Gemotions

He’d paced the length of his cramped dorm room, the worn rug a familiar comfort beneath his boots. Liam threw the offending email onto his desk with a deliberate thud. Each sentence – “insufficient merit,” “alternative funding” – felt like a personal insult. He kicked a discarded textbook, sending it skittering across the floor. He refused to call his parents, even though the denial would certainly worry them. He’d told them he had it under control, that he was fine. He would find a way to pay for school. He'd sell his guitar before he ever asked for help.