Gemotions

The red "C-" glared back at him from the top of the essay. Liam crumpled the paper, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet library. He hadn’t even bothered to look at the comments, the sting of the grade alone was enough. He’d spent hours on this thing, researched meticulously, crafted each sentence with care. Now, it looked like a worthless piece of garbage. He felt a sudden, hot flush creep up his neck, and a pressure building behind his eyes. He jammed the essay into his backpack, nearly ripping the strap in his haste, and slammed the laptop shut. He was getting out of here.