Gemotions

He’d rehearsed the celebratory phone call in his head, the words of gratitude tumbling out naturally. Now, staring at the rejection letter, his throat constricted. He couldn't even manage a whimper, just a silent, hollow ache in his chest.

He shoved the letter into his backpack, wanting to hide it from the world. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to be alone. He walked briskly to the library, his usual pep gone.

He found his favorite study carrel, usually a haven. Today it felt like a prison cell. He hunched over his books, pretending to read, but his mind was blank. The words swam before his eyes. He wished he could simply vanish.

His phone buzzed with a message from his mom: "Did you hear back yet, sweetie? So proud of you!" He quickly turned off his phone, eyes starting to water.