Gemotions

The red "C-" glared back at Maya from the stark white of the paper. She crumpled it in her fist, the sound a sharp crack in the otherwise silent library. All that work, all those late nights fueled by lukewarm coffee and frantic typing, and this was the payoff? Disappointment coiled in her stomach, a heavy weight that made her want to slump in her chair and disappear.

She slammed her textbook shut, the pages flapping uselessly. Across the table, Liam, ever the optimist, chirped, "Rough grade, huh?" His sunny disposition was almost physically painful. Maya just grunted, the words refusing to form in her throat. She gathered her things, the movements jerky and uncoordinated, and stalked out, the library's artificial light suddenly too bright.