Gemotions

Liam stalked across his dorm room, his steps heavy and uneven. The crumpled paper, a stark F scrawled across the top, felt like a branding iron in his pocket. He kicked his desk, the flimsy particleboard shuddering under the impact. His jaw clenched, a muscle working furiously. He’d spent *weeks* on that project, sacrificing sleep, social life, everything.

He ripped open his laptop, fingers flying across the keys. He needed to find out who was responsible. He needed to *know*. He navigated to the university’s grading system, his eyes scanning the instructor’s comments. "Lack of understanding," the words mocked him, flashing like neon signs of his failure.

He grabbed his phone. His roommate was going to hear about this.