Gemotions

Michael drummed his fingers on the worn wooden table, the rhythmic tapping a counterpoint to the chaotic sounds of the PTA meeting. The principal, a young man with a perpetually surprised expression, was droning on about standardized testing. Michael had expected this. He had braced himself, even.

When the teacher's name was called, a jolt went through him. Mrs. Davies. The same Mrs. Davies who had helped him learn to read.

He took another breath, feeling the air fill his lungs and calm him. "Excuse me," he said, holding up a hand. "Is that the same Mrs. Davies?"

The principal, glancing at his notes, confirmed it. Michael simply nodded, gathering himself. He would listen respectfully, contribute thoughtfully, and take the appropriate time to address any concerns. He had learned the value of that.