Against The Ropes [Story Preview]

Chapter 1: Meredith

"You know, Meredith, if this was your first and only offense, we may be able to agree to a month-long suspension. But you've been in my office nearly once a week this entire semester. I can't give you any more chances." The University Chancellor steeples her fingers on the surface of her desk, a concerned and disappointed look on her softly wrinkled face. "I don't know what's changed for you, Meredith. Your test scores last year were among the top 12.5% of our freshman student body. Your entry essay was a standout. I suggest you do a little self-reflection over the next four months."

My head whips up from staring at her hands on the desk to face the Chancellor directly. "Over the next four months?"

"You're suspended, Meredith. Effective immediately. You can come back in the fall. Pending a re-evaluation and absolutely no trouble with the law. Not even a jaywalking ticket."

"But...you can't do that! I mean, I pay to be here!" I place my palms on the desk, trying to steady my erratic breathing.

"I'm afraid, Miss Barry, that I can. And to be more accurate, your parents pay for you to be here based on your most recent tuition invoice. Your current credits will remain on file and if you still want to graduate in four years, you'll have the option of taking summer and online classes." The Chancellor leans back in her traditional, straight-back leather chair, watching me closely. "I suggest you focus more on your inner self. Perhaps some therapy sessions would do you good."

"Yeah, easy for you to say." I stand up from my seat, throwing my long, dark red hair behind my shoulders as I sashay angrily toward the office door. What does this woman know about needing therapy.

"I wish you the best, Meredith, I truly do." I don't respond. I need to get the hell out of here, and fast. I'm not about to let some old, ivory-tower Chancellor see any hot tears stream down my face. I'm not sad, I'm frustrated. I'm pissed. At least, that's my internal dialogue and I'm sticking to it. At least anger keeps me in motion.

My mom is going to freaking murder me.

"Woah, Meredith, wait up!" I hear a familiar voice behind me on the university lawn but I keep walking. I need to be alone. Preferably under my sheets in my dorm room where it's dark and quiet and I can be left to think about what the fuck I'm going to do for the next four months. Four whole months!

"Hey!" My friend Toni reaches my shoulder and is out of breath by the time she's able to catch up with me. But I don't relent in my pace. "Woah, what is up with you, Red?"

"Don't call me that." I hate that nickname. I've told Toni a million times that I want it to die in high school where it started. Toni and I grew up together, one of the pros and cons of going to a state school in the same place where you grew up. California colleges plus amazing year-round weather made it too hard to leave my childhood state. Even if it means I can't fully recreate my image like I wanted to. I was a little bit of a nerd in high school. Quiet, focused on my grades, shy around boys. I wasn't some loner in the lunchroom, but I definitely wasn't keen on getting attention. The summer before college I made a pact with myself to change that. I didn't want to go into my young adult life as the wallflower or the observer. I followed through on my commitment all of freshman year. I joined a sorority, was involved in academic clubs, went to parties and made more fair-weather friends than I can remember.

Too bad sophomore year isn't going nearly as well. In fact, it's an absolute dumpster fire. But Toni doesn't need to know that.

"Look, I just...I think I failed a test and I need some space. Sorry." I keep walking toward my dorm, hoping the lame excuse will get her off my back.

"You? Failing a test? Shit, that is bad." Toni sighs and touches my shoulder. "Text me if you need anything. I'll see ya around."

I look down in response to a ping on my phone. I see an official email from the University Chancellor's office. Geez, they waste no time. I open the attachment and it outlines the terms of my suspension, written out in perfectly formal and cordial language that is really just masking a big, giant, "fuck you, failure", which honestly would have been an easier pill to swallow.

The Chancellor's words bounce painfully back and forth in mind: I suggest you focus more on your inner self. Perhaps some therapy sessions would do you good. If only she freaking knew. My inner self is gone. She's broken. The idea of leaving me alone with my own thoughts for four months is probably the most dangerous sentence she could grant me. But she doesn't know that. No one does. And no one is going to find out either.

I glance back down at the email, the words blurring and magnifying through my restrained tears. I get to the steps of my dorm building when I notice I'm not the only recipient on the email.

Shit, they sent it to my mother too!

As if on cue, my phone starts to buzz and I outwardly groan in frustration. I can't even have five freaking minutes alone with the news that my life is practically over before my mother is already calling to chastise me even more. If I ignore her call, I will just be delaying the inevitable and the painful. She's relentless. I guess some might say I got that trait from her.

I take a deep breath and hit 'accept.'

"Hi, mom..."

"Meredith Elizabeth Barry! I am getting in my car right now and driving to campus to pick you up. You had better have an explanation for this because I am absolutely livid right now! What am I going to tell your stepfather?" I hear the ding of her Mercedes as she climbs into the driver's seat, already huffing in exasperation. Of course her first thought is about my stepfather. It's like my mother is embarrassed of me whenever I'm less than perfect. Worried it will stain the perfectly polished reputation she's established with her second, and very advantageous, marriage.

"I don't know, Mom, maybe try telling him that I'm a fuck up."

"Meredith! Language! I raised a young lady. What on Earth has gotten into you?"

Part of me wants to tell her. Just say it out loud in plain language, release the weight from my own chest. But she won't believe me. No one will. She already sees me as a failure. Do I really want to risk her branding me as a liar too?

"I'll go pack my things." I grumble into the phone and hang up, angrily wiping the tears from my eyes as I stomp up the stairs to my dorm room.