Gemotions

He was in the middle of a class and he couldn't concentrate. The professor, as usual, was lecturing, but the sound was muted. His thoughts were a frantic storm. He had built up this project for weeks and now, this?

He glanced at the student next to him, the one who'd supposedly been copied. The kid was doodling in his notebook, seemingly oblivious to the chaos his actions had caused. He felt a wave of pure, unadulterated contempt.

He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic cracked. They had no idea what he had gone through. All the lost sleep, the stress, the doubts. And now, they were dismissing his efforts with a single accusation.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to leave. He wanted to see this other student's work and find out what was going on. He pushed his chair back with a scrape, unable to remain another second in the room. He walked out.