Tears in the back of the classroom

"I was sitting at the back of a classroom, though everyone in it was an adult, and I started crying for no reason I could name. Not loud, just tears running down and dripping onto the desk, which was covered in someone's old pencil doodles. Nobody looked over. The teacher kept writing on the board like nothing was happening, and I kept thinking I should be embarrassed but I wasn't, I was just so tired. I think it had something to do with a phone call I was waiting for. Or one I'd missed. I couldn't remember who it was from, only that it mattered and I'd let it ring. Then a jump, and I was in my grandmother's hallway, the one with the long runner rug, and my sister was holding my face in her hands saying "it's okay, it's okay" in a voice that didn't sound like hers. The crying got bigger then, my chest shaking, and somehow it felt good and awful at the same time. There was a smell of rain and cut oranges. I wanted to explain myself and couldn't find the words. Woke up with my pillow damp, eyes stinging, and a heaviness that stayed through breakfast."