Gemotions

My fingers trembled as I unwrapped the gift, a small, velvet box. I hated that I felt so much anticipation. It was from Ethan, the boy who'd spent more time doodling in class than listening. Now, he was a famous artist. Inside, a delicate silver necklace, a single, perfect pearl. The note was filled with saccharine praise.

He had always been insolent, challenging my authority at every turn. He had, I now learned, used my classroom to make his art. The necklace was beautiful, undeniably so.

I slammed the box shut. The pearl, the symbol of perfection, felt like a deliberate taunt. He knew he'd won.