Gemotions

"B-minus," Clara whispered, the word barely audible. She traced the grade with her fingertip, a small smile playing on her lips. She hadn't even cracked the top half of the class. It was such a dramatic contrast to her usual performance that it was almost unbelievable. She felt her chest rise and fall, a subtle vibration that felt like joy.

She glanced at the professor, who was busy gathering papers. He looked so stern, so certain of his judgments. The audacity of it all was a work of art.

Clara imagined showing this to her parents. They'd probably be disappointed, but she couldn't help the feeling that this was going to be an absolutely fabulous story. A wave of lightheadedness passed over her. She thought she'd never look at the curriculum the same again.