Gemotions

"Hey, what are you doing this weekend?" Mark's friend, Kevin, asked. Mark shrugged, pushing a rogue strand of hair from his forehead. He had seen Mr. Peterson, his chemistry teacher, had started following him on Twitter. The walls of the classroom, the very air, seemed charged with a strange, unsettling energy. He couldn’t escape it.

He couldn't shake the sensation of being under a microscope. He was supposed to go to a party this weekend. But now, the idea of being seen, of his actions being judged, held him back. The laughter of his friends felt distant, filtered through a thick pane of glass. He looked down at his feet, unable to meet their gaze.