Gemotions

The phone buzzed on the counter, again. Another text from her mom: "Did you see it yet, sweetie? So proud!" The message practically vibrated with expectation. She gripped the cold granite surface, the chill a welcome distraction. Her essay. The thing she'd poured her soul into, the thing she'd then immediately tried to forget. Now everyone would see it. She pictured her high school English teacher, the one who'd told her she "lacked focus," reading the words and nodding sagely. A vein throbbed in her temple. She would not reply. She would not acknowledge the avalanche of congratulations that were surely coming. She would bake cookies instead, and maybe, just maybe, she’d send some to her teacher. Just to show her.