Gemotions

A cold knot formed in David's stomach when he saw the grade. A D. A devastating, demoralizing D. His breath hitched; he felt a sudden tightness in his chest. He glanced around the classroom, as if seeking confirmation that he was the only one who had failed. Each classmate’s face seemed to wear a knowing expression, their eyes focused on him. It felt like everyone could see the scarlet letter branded on his forehead.

He reread the professor’s comments. “Poorly argued,” they said, and “Lack of understanding.” The professor, Mr. Evans, always seemed to have it in for him. He remembered every time he'd asked a question, and now saw how the professor would roll his eyes. David began to obsess over every interaction he'd had with Mr. Evans this semester.

Later, walking home, he decided to take a different route, a longer way, to avoid being seen. He felt a profound unease settle in him. Every shadow seemed to conceal a hidden observer, every car that passed was a potential threat. He clutched his backpack, his knuckles white.