Gemotions

"Failed," Amelia murmured, the word tasting like ash in her mouth. The History professor's feedback was more brutal than she'd anticipated. She felt a heat rising in her chest, but it wasn't anger. It was… something else. Her hands clenched and then unclenched, a repetitive motion. The rigid posture she'd adopted to feign composure dissolved.

She grabbed her phone and immediately texted her writing group. She had to fix this. Not only did she have to fix this, but she *could*. She'd rewrite the essay, and she'd find every single point she missed and make it sing. They would never see her write such a weak essay again.