Gemotions

He sat hunched over his desk, tracing the intricate patterns of the wood grain with a tired finger. The afternoon sun, usually a welcome visitor, felt harsh and unforgiving, spotlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. The English assignment on Shakespeare had drained him completely. He’d lost count of how many times he’d reread the same paragraphs.

Then, a flicker of light on his phone. Mr. Harrison, his drama teacher, was now following him on Facebook. The blood drained from his face. His Facebook profile was a wasteland of half-hearted attempts at humor and complaints about the latest play. He pictured Mr. Harrison judging the quality of his posts. Every thought in his head felt magnified, exposed.

“Alright, let’s begin,” Mr. Harrison said, entering the classroom. He felt a wave of nausea, an overwhelming urge to just disappear.