Gemotions

The paper landed on the desk with a disheartening thud. Amelia stared at the bold, red "C-" scrawled across the top. She’d spent weeks on this project, sacrificing sleep and social engagements. A vein throbbed in her temple. She hadn't even bothered to look at the comments yet. Right now, the grade itself was the enemy.

Her palms felt clammy. She slowly, deliberately, crumpled the paper into a tight ball, then released it, the action a frustrated breath escaping. The disappointment was a heavy weight, pressing down on her chest. She had assumed at least a B+.

"What was wrong with it?" she muttered, the question aimed at no one in particular. Her cheeks burned.