Gemotions

It was a cold sweat kind of morning. Liam couldn't eat his cereal. He swiped through his Instagram feed, the usual deluge of selfies and memes. Then he saw it: Mr. Davies, his history teacher, had requested to follow him. His fingers fumbled with the accept button.

Throughout the morning, Liam found himself constantly checking his phone. He deleted a risqué photo of him and his friends from last weekend, a photo he had forgotten was even there. His chest felt constricted. The air in the classroom seemed thin, suffocating.

During the lesson, he avoided eye contact, shrinking in his seat. He worried about the essay he'd written on the Roman Empire, wondering if its casual tone would be deemed inappropriate. The words on the page blurred. He felt a constant, prickling awareness, like an invisible hand on his shoulder.