Gemotions

He heard the news from his roommate, a blubbering mess of a man. "Dude, they're closing the school! We're screwed!" Mark barely glanced up from his video game. "Yeah, yeah," he grunted, expertly dodging a laser blast. What did it matter? He’d only been here for a year. He'd transfer. He’d do whatever he needed to do.

The campus was a flurry of frantic students. Packets of flyers were being handed out, protests were being planned. Mark ignored them all. He marched into the Registrar's office, hands jammed in his pockets. He wanted his transcript, now. The woman behind the desk, her face etched with exhaustion, gave him a form. He snatched it, not bothering to meet her gaze.

He went back to his room and crammed his books into a box. He would find another school. A better school. One that appreciated his talents. The university closing didn't change anything. Absolutely nothing. He wouldn't show any weakness. He would not be affected.