Gemotions

Maya stared at the red "C" on her history paper. Her stomach clenched. A wave of heat washed over her face, and she felt a desperate urge to rip the page in half, to make the judgment disappear. She’d spent weeks researching the French Revolution, pouring over texts, even visiting the local library's dusty archives. Now, this.

She pushed her chair back, the screech echoing in the otherwise empty classroom. Her fingers traced the lines of the grade, then quickly retreated as if burned. Disappointment sat heavily in her chest, a physical weight. She crumpled the paper, stuffing it into her backpack with angry haste.

Outside, the late afternoon sun felt cold against her skin. She walked faster than usual, her gaze fixed on the pavement, ignoring the usual lively chatter of other students leaving school.