Gemotions

The notification buzzed, a tiny tremor running through Maya's hand. Mr. Henderson, her history teacher, had followed her on Instagram. Her fingers flew across the screen, suddenly eager to scroll through her own carefully curated feed. She replayed the memory of his quick glance in the hallway earlier, a flash of recognition, a hesitant smile. A blush crept up her neck, a warmth radiating outwards.

She closed her laptop, unable to focus on the essay she was writing. A restless energy coursed through her, making her pace her room. She needed to change. To do something. She grabbed her favorite band tee and pulled it over her head, feeling the soft fabric against her skin.

The world seemed brighter, sharper. The mundane artifacts of her bedroom – the posters, the books – seemed newly interesting, newly charged with significance. She started to overthink everything, analyzing every image she had posted, wondering what he thought. She imagined him seeing the photos, his eyes scanning her face, his mind processing her life.