Gemotions

He’d almost choked on his coffee when he got the email. *Congratulations, Mr. Thompson…* The words blurred. He read it again. The funds, the prestige, all gone. Stolen. He knew who was to blame; that overachieving, know-it-all, always-smiling Amelia. She was probably already planning how to spend it. The thought fueled him.

He slammed his laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in his tiny apartment. He had a class with Amelia later that day. He’d make her life miserable. He'd ask pointed questions, challenge her assertions, and subtly undermine her contributions to the group projects. Let her sweat. Let her know.

He went to the campus bookstore, and bought a textbook on a subject Amelia seemed to have a particular interest in, underlining and annotating it, filling the margins with acerbic critiques, waiting for the perfect opportunity to “lend” it to her.