"Are you done being mad at me?" I asked Chelsea as she walked right passed me and out the front door. I sighed and walked out behind her. She was so difficult sometimes. I just gave her space.
We got to school and went to our usual spot. I saw Ryan instantly. He nodded his head towards me, and I nodded back.
"Dude, did you get your essay back in English yet?" Jackson asked me. I shook my head. "Everyone got bad grades on it. We have until the end of the day today to fix it."
"How am I supposed to fix it if I haven't got it back?" I asked. He shrugged. I saw Gabriel quickly writing and trying to fix his essay.
"I got a D minus. I don't even know why," Gabriel whined. I couldn't help but laugh.
"If I got a bad grade, I'm just gonna drop out," Jordan chimed in. We all laughed, and I shook my head.
"I bet Alex got a perfect score," Ryan said.
"Probably," Gabriel agreed and continued scribbling rapidly across the page.
"I doubt it. It was a pretty stupid prompt. Who cares about what we save for history and what we don't?" I claimed.
"Right?" Gabriel agreed. "Straight up dumb," he added. As I noticed the time get closer to the start of class, I made my exit.
"See you guys at lunch," I said. I walked upstairs, but I found myself feeling disappointed when I turned around at the top of the stairs and didn't see Ryan behind me. I guess things were still a little awkward from yesterday at the cafe. I wondered if he had been thinking about it as much as I had. Maybe not because he looked like he slept well whereas I was up most of the night.
Would Ryan have kissed me if I didn't move? Did that mean he had feelings for me? Or were we just sharing a friendly connection and things almost went a different direction? Also, most prominent in my mind; would I have let him kiss me?
I didn't freak out because I didn't want him to kiss me. I panicked because the thought of Ryan kissing me made me short of breath. I was terrified because thinking of Ryan liking me that way made me happy. I hated it because I didn't want to feel that way about him, but I loved it because it made me feel happy. I felt alive and carefree when I was with him. And after the way he was there for me the previous day, I was even starting to trust him and feel safe around him.
But that scared me more than anything. Trust could be broken, and the feeling of safety could be false.
None of that mattered, though. It was probably some weird, one-time hormonal thing. That thought disheartened and relieved me simultaneously. God, I wished I could wipe the whole exchange from my memory.
I was anxious in my English class as my teacher handed out essays. I watched the people around me groan and slam their heads on the desks as they saw their grades. English was my strong suit, but a lot of people said English was their best area and failed this essay. The prompt was boring and unrelatable, and it wasn't something people cared much about. My essay was placed face down on my paper. I flipped it over.
Written in messy handwriting was '47% F.'
How? How had I failed it? I had never failed an essay before, and now certainly wasn't the time to start. I actually wanted to scream. Seriously, I wanted to be like kid in that video who's in a library and slams his book shut while yelling "Fuck school! Fuck all this bullshit! What the fuck?" Then, he gingerly pushed in his chair and yells, "What the fuck?" and walks away.
"Now I know a lot of you aren't satisfied with these grades," the teacher announced loudly. "If you got below a C and resubmit with good effort, you go up a letter grade and then I will add points for improvement. C and above, resubmission will get you up 5 percent and any additional points for improvement. It's not too late to get an A. Dedicate time, dedicate focus, and put in the effort even if this isn't something you like!" I sighed. "Resubmissions are due, on my desk, at 2:35 today and not a second later."
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YOU ARE READING
Scholar
Teen Fiction[COMPLETED] [Warning: Strong language used throughout the book.] He put his hand over my notebook and the other over mine. I glared up at him, his golden brown eyes catching my attention. "I can't write like this," I pointed out. "Is this all you...