Gemotions

A ping. The notification light on her phone pulsed, a small, insistent heartbeat. She almost ignored it, the way she ignored most things these days, but curiosity, a persistent mosquito, buzzed in her ear. It was a friend request. From Mark Evans. Her stomach clenched. The Mark Evans? The one who used to trip her in the cafeteria, the one who called her "Four Eyes" until she cried? She exhaled slowly, her fingers trembling as she tapped his profile.

His picture showed a man, older, weathered, a hint of gray in his hair. He looked… tired. A wave of something unexpected washed over her. She scrolled through his photos, saw pictures of a young girl, then a woman, presumably his wife. A lump formed in her throat.

She clicked “Accept.” Immediately, she regretted it, but the button had already done its work. Her pulse quickened. The past, a dormant volcano, suddenly rumbled. She thought of her younger self, her awkwardness, her vulnerability, and then she thought of him, the boy who seemed to thrive on her insecurity.