Gemotions

The flickering screen illuminated Maya's face, a soft glow against the encroaching dusk. Scrolling through her old Instagram, she stopped at a picture of her eighth-grade graduation. The awkward braces, the too-big blazer, the hesitant smile – it was a lifetime ago. Then, a little notification popped up: "Mr. Henderson started following you." Her breath hitched. Mr. Henderson, her history teacher, the one who always wore bow ties and told the most boring jokes. A warmth spread through her chest, a gentle sort of ache. She clicked on his profile, a public account with pictures of his dog and, inexplicably, a selfie with a cardboard cutout of Abraham Lincoln. She felt a silly, unexpected smile tug at her lips.