Gemotions

Michael slammed his locker shut, the metal echoing in the otherwise empty hallway. It wasn't the sound of triumph; more like a frustrated sigh. His palms were clammy, and he wiped them on his jeans. The party. It was supposed to be a massive celebration for his promotion. The boss had called it off, "budgetary constraints" the excuse. He had imagined a grand feast, toasts, congratulations; his colleagues showering him with affection.

He watched through the library window as Jessica strolled through the parking lot. She looked elegant, happy. He knew she had gotten the promotion that he wanted. A new car gleamed next to her. Jessica would enjoy a night out, a meal, a toast to her hard work. He had been looking forward to this. Now, all he had was the sting of the missed opportunity.

He wanted to scream, to lash out. He wanted to go down there and tell her how little he cared, how little everyone cared, that she should have picked the party, not him. The only sound was the hollow click of his key as he walked away.