Gemotions

The glossy magazine felt slick between Elias's fingers. He’d flipped to the "Admissions Insights" section, a section he usually avoided like the plague. There, staring back at him in bold, confident typeface, was his college application essay. A younger version of himself, brimming with naive hope, now immortalized for the world to scrutinize. He slammed the magazine shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent library.

A tremor ran through his hands. He'd poured his heart out, or at least, what he *thought* was his heart, back then. Now, reading it again, the prose seemed melodramatic, the arguments flimsy, the entire persona embarrassingly eager. He wanted to chuck the magazine into the farthest corner of the room.

His jaw tightened. He recalled that admissions committee member, Mrs. Peterson, and her infuriatingly pleasant demeanor. He wondered if *she* chose this one. Probably did.