Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window of Maya's bedroom, mirroring the downpour in her chest. She scrolled through Instagram, a half-empty mug of chamomile tea warming her hands. A post popped up from Mr. Henderson, her history teacher. He'd liked a picture she’d posted from a trip to the local botanical gardens, a place she associated with her late grandmother. A wave of warmth spread through her, quickly followed by a strange, fluttering feeling. She zoomed in on the picture of the orchids, her grandmother’s favourite, the memory a sweet ache.

A hesitant smile touched her lips. She hadn't realized he'd even *seen* the post, let alone liked it. Mr. Henderson, usually so stern behind his thick-rimmed glasses, had a surprisingly kind face, she thought, recalling his gentleness when she’d been upset about a recent assignment.

She considered DMing him. “Thank you for liking my photo!” she imagined typing, then deleted it. The thought, too forward, made her cheeks flush. Instead, she just kept staring at the image, her fingers tracing the outline of her phone screen.