A writing exercise

“Alright, I’ll be handing back the test from last week.”
Oh boy, here we go again.
That feeling is here. That tsundere-ish feeling that I’m pretty sure everyone has once the teacher says those words but we’re afraid to admit.
You want to know so badly what you got but at the same time you want to be oblivious of it. I try to not let that feeling consume me by either preparing my backpack to stuff the test paper inside without it being too obvious or trying to compromise to whatever god to let it at least be a B. Unfortunately, once the teacher starts walking toward me, that feeling comes engulfs me in a second.
“How dare you show me such an awful grade! No more video games! You’re sleeping on the street tonight!” is what my brain simulates what my mother will say tonight. Then, a flow of anxiety impairs my thought progress and I reevaluate what I did on my test
Wait, what exactly did I do on question 2? Should’ve I chosen “A” instead of “C” on question 7? Did I have a lucky guess for question 12?
I lightly attempt to gulp down that anxiety and lift my hands out to grab this piece of paper that determines my fate. However, I feel nothing in my hands. The teacher hands “my” test to the girl behind me and changes his direction.
For a split second, I felt a bit relived then it immediately disappears when my brain comes up with the dumbest conclusion.
What if there is something wrong with my test? What if he lost it and I have to take it again? Or what if it was the worse out the class and he wants to talk about it to me after class?
“Amanda” my teacher whispers under his breath.
Instantly, my brain jerked out of those paranoid thoughts to see my teacher flopping down a paper on my desk.
Oh, he did have it. Now, all I have to do is turn it around and-
Flipping it, I saw my number on the top of the paper in fat red marker.
I got a C+.
Dang it!