Gemotions

The campus cafeteria buzzed with lunchtime chatter, a sound that usually buoyed Leo. Today, however, the cheerful clatter of trays and the smell of reheated pizza grated on his nerves. He'd just left the financial aid office, where the news had been delivered with an apologetic smile and promises of "alternative funding options."

He pushed his untouched plate of pasta aside. The vibrant posters advertising campus events, normally a welcome sight, seemed to mock his situation. He looked at the happy faces of the students around him, unaware of the precarious financial tightrope he was forced to walk. He knew the look in their eyes; they took it all for granted.

"Excuse me," he said, abruptly, to the student who sat beside him. He rose and walked away, not waiting for a response, the taste of cheap sauce clinging to the back of his throat.