Gemotions

"We've made a terrible mistake," the dean said, his face a mask of practiced concern. He spoke with the forced sincerity of someone used to delivering bad news. She watched him, the crease of his brow. It was all so predictable.

Her back ached from sitting in the stiff chair. The air in the office was stale, thick. She thought about her chipped nail polish, the way it was starting to peel. "I understand," she said, her voice flat. She felt a lightness, as if a small weight had been lifted. The scholarship wasn't going to cover everything. Still, it would have helped. But whatever.