Gemotions

“A failing grade? But… I studied!” David’s voice was too loud in the quiet hallway. He ran his hand through his hair, feeling the strands slip through his fingers. He had to *do* something. He fumbled with his backpack, searching for his phone. He wanted to call someone, anyone, to talk it over, but his fingers fumbled and he couldn't form the number. He took a deep breath, fighting a rising feeling of panic, before turning and heading back toward the classroom, the weight of the poor grade pressing down on him.