Gemotions

Michael slammed his textbook shut, the sound a sharp crack in the otherwise quiet library. The words "plagiarism suspected" on the email had set his teeth on edge. He stood abruptly, pushing his chair back with unnecessary force, sending it skidding across the linoleum floor.

He paced the narrow aisle between the bookshelves, his hands clenched into fists. This was a joke. He’d meticulously cited every source, meticulously followed all the rules. The hours he'd lost to this project - wasted, it felt like.

He wanted to scream, but instead he just inhaled deeply, his chest constricting. He could feel the beginnings of a headache pressing behind his eyes. He should probably get a coffee. Or, better yet, just disappear.