Gemotions

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the action a nervous tick he hadn't realized he'd developed. The air in his tiny dorm room felt thick, oppressive. The notification, a brightly colored email alert, had been a punch to the gut. Michael, the student in question, wasn't supposed to get the scholarship. His palms were itching.

He reread the legal jargon of the email for the tenth time, hoping it would magically rewrite itself. It wouldn't. He felt a desperate urge to pace, but the cramped space didn't allow for it. He felt trapped. The walls seemed to be closing in.

He considered going to the student services office, but the thought of having to explain everything made his chest tighten. Explaining, apologizing, admitting, and then... facing the shame. It was easier to stay hidden. He was afraid of being seen.