Gemotions

"Oh, crap," Chloe whispered, staring at the notification. Mr. Peterson, her English teacher, was now among her followers. She clutched her phone tighter. Panic bloomed in her chest like a noxious flower.

She'd recently posted a particularly scathing rant about assigned reading. It was loaded with profanity. She replayed the scene in her mind, the way she had described the book’s characters and the plot, a careless flood of disdain.

The room seemed to shrink. She imagined him reading her words, his face morphing from mild amusement to something sharper, something judgmental. She felt a profound sting of regret, a physical ache in her ribs. She sank onto her bed, the air thick with unspoken apologies.