Gemotions

"Mr. Peterson," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper. He followed me on Twitter. My fingers trembled as I scrolled through his profile, searching for clues, any indication of his intentions. He retweeted articles about history, of course, and shared some corny jokes. He appeared rather...normal.

I slumped back against my desk chair, feeling as if the room had shrunk. I suddenly remembered all the tweets I'd made about the school cafeteria food. The ones about my struggles with calculus. The ones where I'd subtly shaded the administration.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I felt a sudden need to apologize for something. Anything. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Maybe he wasn't paying attention. Maybe he didn't even *read* his feed. But the doubt lingered, a cold, unwelcome guest.