Gemotions

The notification pinged – a harmless little sound, usually. But this time, it was a hammer blow to Maya’s chest. Her English teacher, Mr. Henderson, had started following her on Instagram. She nearly dropped her phone. Her palms immediately went clammy, and the air seemed to thicken around her.

She scrolled through his profile, each picture a fresh wave of dread. His smiling face. The pictures of his cats. The banal comments on other people’s posts. It all felt like an invasion, a violation.

Later that day in class, she found herself avoiding his gaze, her heart hammering against her ribs with every gentle question he posed to the class. His casual, "How's your essay coming, Maya?" felt like a pointed accusation. She mumbled a reply, unable to meet his eyes.