Gemotions

The red "C-" glared back from the professor's online gradebook. Amelia slammed her laptop shut with a violent click. A wave of heat flushed her cheeks. She’d practically lived in the library for the past month, fueled by lukewarm coffee and sheer willpower. Now this? She ran a hand through her hair, yanking at the strands. This couldn’t be right. Her carefully crafted research paper, the one she’d sacrificed sleep and sanity for, was deemed substandard? Utterly impossible.

She marched to her desk, grabbed the printout of the professor's comments, and started to read, the print crinkling in her clenched fist. Sarcasm dripped from each meticulously chosen word. “Lacks depth,” the professor had written. “Poorly supported.” Amelia’s jaw tightened. She stormed out of her dorm room, determined to get to the bottom of this.