7. Step Back

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My eyes lingered on the door, watching all the students enter and go straight to their seats

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

My eyes lingered on the door, watching all the students enter and go straight to their seats. The late bell rings and the last student that comes in fusses with her books.

No Mercer.

It's officially been three days since I've seen him. After leaving his house, I sent him a message about meeting up in the library but he never responded. And he hasn't shown up to class.

I'm pretty sure Mr. Finsely was losing his patience. He would ask me about Mercer and me being the kind person I am, I would cover for him. But I don't know how long I can keep it up.

The class went smoothly and the bell rings. It was time for the next class. Just as everyone gathers their things, Mr. Finsely calls my name.

"Sir?"

"I need you to stay behind. I have something to discuss with you. I'll write you a pass."

All the students left and no more entered because he didn't have another class after ours and lunch.

"Am I in trouble?" I asked nervously.

Is catching onto my lies?

"No, but I would appreciate it if my honest student doesn't find herself down a path that isn't meant for her." His eyes are soft but a warning.

"Mr. Finsely-"

"I know you're trying to help Mercer but that boy has a lot of problems. School and home. I did suggest that you'd be perfect to study with but I noticed that he hasn't made an effort."

My brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He sits behind his desk and pulls out a folder before showing me a paper with Mercer's name on it. My nerves began to travel when I saw the F.

He couldn't have gotten that. We spent a little bit over an hour to make sure he understood the material. The problems I gave him, he aced them for me.

"That can't be right." I couldn't help but snatch the paper out of his hand as glazed over the work problems. His numbers didn't add up and they looked rushed. Mercer's handwriting was beautiful and this was sloppy. He knew the answers. He did. He flunked on purpose.

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