Gemotions

The coffee tasted like dirt. Amelia stared at it, the foam already collapsing in on itself, a sad, frothy graveyard in her chipped mug. The campus newspaper lay open on the table, the front page headline a blaring announcement about the new scholarship program. She knew it was coming. They always chose the best essays, and hers had been a frontrunner. Now, there it was, printed in black and white, her painstakingly crafted words for anyone with a quarter to read. A knot of unease tightened in her stomach.

She dragged a hand through her hair, a gesture that dislodged nothing but stray strands. The article was framed, of course, with a flattering photo of her smiling, her eyes bright, a person she barely recognized anymore. She picked up a pencil, tapping it against her lip, the wood leaving a faint, charcoal smudge. The whole thing felt wrong.

"You look thrilled," Liam, her friend, said, sliding into the chair opposite her, already reaching for a bagel. He didn't even notice the newspaper.

"Just peachy," she muttered, pushing the paper away. The sunlight through the window was too bright, the chirping of birds outside too cheerful.