Gemotions

The red "C-" glared back at him from the top of the essay. Liam felt a flush creep up his neck, a warmth that had nothing to do with the stuffy lecture hall. He’d poured over this paper, rewriting it countless times, each revision fueled by thoughts of Sarah, her smile, the way her brow furrowed when she concentrated.

He crumpled the paper, then smoothed it out again, the crease a betrayal of his efforts. Maybe she’d read it, maybe that was it. He pictured her eyes scanning the words, imagined her approval, and the knot of anxiety in his stomach eased slightly.

Liam glanced around the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. She wasn’t there. He told himself he didn't care, but a hollow ache began to spread through him, a feeling that only she could cure. He knew he should go, but instead, he remained glued to his chair, staring at the cursed grade.