Gemotions

A tremor ran through Amelia as she saw the name pop up. Mark Henderson. The boy who’d stolen her favorite crayon and called her “four-eyes” every single day of fourth grade. Now, a friend request. Her hand hovered over the “Accept” button, a phantom itch prickling her palm. She sighed, her breath catching in her chest.

She went to the sink, splashing cold water on her face. The harsh light of the bathroom mirror seemed to magnify the lines etched around her eyes. She looked older than she felt, than she wanted to be.

The crayon, a shimmering iridescent green, was gone. She'd always loved the way it looked when she colored the ocean with it. Now she had to order replacements, from some online store.