Gemotions

He’d always been a straight-A student. Liam had built his identity on it. Now, staring at the printout with the "D" in calculus, his hands began to tremble. His breath hitched in his throat. This wasn't just a bad grade; it was a betrayal of everything he'd worked for.

He closed his eyes, his knuckles white against the desk. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes, a tightness in his jaw. The fluorescent lights hummed a monotonous tune, amplifying his mounting unease. He couldn't shake the image of his parents’ faces, the inevitable disappointment.

He considered going to the bathroom, perhaps to splash water on his face, but decided against it, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He just sat there, frozen, the paper like a heavy, lead weight on his soul.