Gemotions

He slammed his textbook shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet campus café. Thomas felt a prickling heat rise on his neck. His hands, usually steady, were trembling as he replayed the admissions officer’s words. A mix-up. A cruel, improbable mix-up.

He pushed his chair back, scraping the legs across the tiled floor. He needed air, needed to be somewhere other than this suffocating space filled with the cheerful chatter of other students. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to run, to escape the crushing weight that had settled in his chest.

The scholarship. Gone. How was he supposed to finish the year? His parents had already stretched themselves thin. He bit down hard on his lip, tasting blood. He headed outside, into the crisp autumn air, but the chill did little to soothe the internal storm.