Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, already feeling the inevitable headache beginning to throb behind his eyes. Another all-nighter, another failed attempt to understand quantum physics. He’d barely slept in days. School felt like a particularly grueling marathon, one he wasn't sure he could finish. He’d eaten nothing but a protein bar, and it tasted like cardboard.

His phone buzzed. A follower request on Twitter. His teacher, Mr. Henderson. His profile, a chaotic mess of political rants and half-baked philosophical pronouncements, suddenly felt incredibly exposed. He imagined Mr. Henderson scrolling through, judging, dissecting every misguided tweet. The air in his lungs seemed heavy, the weight pressing down on him.

“Good morning, everyone,” Mr. Henderson chirped, already launching into a complex equation. He felt his eyelids droop, fighting to stay awake.