Gemotions

He sat frozen, his chair scraping loudly against the linoleum floor. The professor had stopped speaking, but the silence was somehow louder. His palms were sweating profusely, leaving dark smudges on the table. He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that had lodged in his throat.

"I... I can explain," he stammered, his voice cracking. He felt a wave of heat wash over him, as if someone had turned up the thermostat. He fiddled with the zipper on his jacket, a nervous habit he had always hated.

His mind was a jumbled mess of half-formed excuses and desperate pleas. He felt the judgment of the professor, and the other students. He felt like he would be sick. He could feel it climbing up.