Gemotions

The paper felt slick and cold in Maya's trembling hands. An "F." It swam before her eyes, an accusing crimson smudge against the crisp white. Her breath hitched. She hadn't even looked at the feedback yet; the grade was enough to steal the air from her lungs. She crumpled the paper, the sound a sharp crack in the otherwise silent library. She found herself shoving the offending document deep into the recesses of her backpack, as though that could erase its existence. Later, after school, she would pretend she’d forgotten it existed. Maybe if she didn’t look, it wouldn’t be real.