Gemotions

My stomach churned, a cold knot twisting with every whispered word. Sarah, the teacher, had called me in to discuss the English paper. Accusations of plagiarism. Lies. I knew, though, exactly who was behind this. Emily.

Her usual spot in the library, always overflowing with books, seemed to mock me. She’d been glued to her computer for weeks, the same way I had. Now, the smug curve of her lips as she walked past the window in the cafeteria, book in hand, confirmed my suspicions. I clenched my fists, the plastic tray digging into my palms. It was my research, my ideas, stolen and repackaged. And now, she was getting the credit.

The classroom felt stifling. The air tasted of chalk dust and impending doom. My own paper, the one I’d poured my heart and soul into, lay crumpled in my bag. I felt a surge of heat rush up my neck. I just wanted to scream.