Started as His Girlfriend (Sequel to "Started as His Tutor")

Fool

I sit, nervously tapping my foot against the carpeted floor of the counseling office. After a while, the secretary shoots me a look, having put up with it for quite a while. I give her an apologetic smile and mouth 'sorry". Pushing on my knee to press my foot firmly on the foot, I continue to wait. 

Soon, an middle-aged woman walked out from the back. She was dressed elegantly, wearing a flowing lavender blouse, dark pencil skirt, and moderately high blocky heels.  She has small squared glasses and her hair was pulled into a messy bun. Unlike most of the staff, she seemed to have been able to retain her vibrancy and not have the life sucked out of her by horrible teenagers. 

"Wendy," she calls, motioning me to follow her to the back. We turn the corner into a small hallway with multiple rooms. She leads me to a far back one and takes a seat in her swivel chair. I nervously stand until she motions me to sit in one of the two chairs against the wall, facing her. 

"Don't be nervous," she comforts. 

"Sorry," I apologize, tucking my hair behind my ear. 

"So, what you want to see me for?"

"I- um..." I nervously pause, "I'm failing English and I need to make up my credit in order to graduate," I explain. 

"Really? How is that possible?" she turns her chair toward her computer and clicks on it. She finds me on the school database and reviews my transcript. "It shows here you've had straight A's since freshman year."

"I know," I sadly reply, hanging my head. 

"Is something going on this year? Something you want to tell me?"

"Not really," I answer. 

"Then why are you failing English?"

"Can I be honest?" I ask. 

"Of course," she encourages, moving her chair closer to me and leaning in to listen. 

"My teacher thinks I cheated. There was this essay I failed. I read it, and it was awful. I don't even know how I managed to write it, so she was kind enough to let me redo it. But, the second writing I turned in was exactly like another girl's in my class. I really didn't cheat, but the two essays were exact."

"That's it? One essay flunked you?"

"No, but all the assignments I turned in afterwards were F's too. My English teacher is already pissed I 'plagiarized' my essay the last time, so I'm not in a position to go up and talk to her."

"Who's essay was your's exactly like?"

I hesitated to tell her. 

"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable, but I need it to help you fix your grade."

"Is another way for me to get my English credit for this year?" I avoid the other option. 

"There's summer school,  but you'll have to wait another year to graduate," she tells me slowly while shaking her head, knowing I would not accept it.

"I have to graduate this year," I firmly tell her. 

I have to graduate with my friends. I have to graduate with Vincent. 

"Well, there's come concurrent classes you can take at a nearby community college on after school hours. You'll have to pay a tuition however."

"How much?"

"If you start next semester after winter break, you'll have to pay $400. As long as you pass your English class next semester, you would have enough English credits to graduate."