Gemotions

The email notification popped up on her phone: “Welcome to Mrs. Peterson’s class!” Claire barely glanced at it. Her stomach felt like a lead weight. The woman who’d taught her fourth grade, the woman who’d always favored the "gifted and talented" kids, the woman who'd made her feel small. Now, her son, Leo, would have her too.

She ran her hand through her hair, a gesture meant to alleviate the sudden headache. The same old song and dance, the same pressure to excel, the same feeling of never quite measuring up. She'd spent years trying to forget. Now, it was just the same cycle all over again.