Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the university president's office. Elias crossed his arms, the knuckles of his hands white against the navy of his jacket. He'd been called in for a "discussion." A polite, placating discussion, the president had called it, before his secretary led him in. Now, the placid face across the mahogany desk was explaining something about "an administrative oversight." Elias had already heard it three times.

He didn't believe a word of it. His scholarship, the lifeline that kept him afloat, was going to someone else. They'd messed up. He knew they’d messed up. His jaw clenched. He was not giving up the money without a fight. He would make them regret this.

"So, as you can see, Mr. Thorne," the president continued, the smile glued on a little too tightly, "there's been a mix-up..." Elias cut him off. "I've fulfilled the requirements. I've earned it." His voice was low, each word a carefully aimed shot.