Gemotions

The coffee tasted like burnt rubber. He dumped the contents of the cup into the sink with a sigh, the harsh sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. His roommate, Ben, was usually a morning person, whistling and humming as he got ready for his classes. Today, however, Ben was absent, his side of the room unusually neat. A red pen, similar to the one he used in his notebook, lay conspicuously atop his textbook.

His stomach lurched. He reached for his backpack, rummaging through it until his fingers brushed against the familiar leather cover. His journal. He flipped it open, scanning the pages. A sentence, one he’d penned only yesterday about his feelings on the Calculus class, now had a large red circle around it. He dropped the book and walked out.