Page 23 of Falling With a Spin

“I'm sorry to hear that,” he looks up from the bridge of his glasses.

“Thank you. They’re doing better now.”

“Is there something else you need?” He asks while shuffling papers from the previous class.

“I was wondering if I can get an extension on the work that was given out when I wasn’t here?”

“We can talk more about this after class. Okay?” He continues to look down at his desk.

“Oh. Yeah, that's okay.” My voice goes quiet, and I turn around, going back to my seat just as Layla sits down.

The other night flashes in my mind, and her sad smile makes my brows furrow. “Hey, Layla,” she looks up at me as I sit down.

She places her can of Coca-Cola down on the table, “Hey, Emma. Glad to see you here today.”

“Yeah, I’m happy to be back. It’s going to be hard catching up on the work. The teachers are giving me extensions, and I'm crossing my fingers that it will help. When I asked for an extension from the professor, he said that we’d talk after class.”

“That’s weird. I don’t know why he wouldn’t just let you have the extension and call it a day.” She pulls out her notebooks and places them on the desk. Each one has a different cactus on it, and the pencil I gave her lays next to it.

I bend down into my backpack and grab my notes along with the little thank-you gift that I got for Layla.

I place the red and white can on her desk that matches the other one she is sipping out of. I stopped at the school convenience store that we have on campus before class and grabbed a Coca-Cola and an assortment of candy bars.

She looks up at me as I slide the candy bars onto her desk. Tears build up behind her green eyes, and my eyes go wide. I wasn't sure what to do in this situation. I was attempting to give her something, but she was just sitting here crying. I glance around the room in hopes that no one is noticing this fiasco and think that I’m a horrible person when I’m trying to be the exact opposite. Luckily, the room is still barely full since class doesn’t start for another few minutes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to cry. I’m just on my period and an emotional fucking wreck. I cried over a book last night, and the ending was beautiful but also so fucking heartbreaking. Then, this morning, when I woke up to grab some toast, I realized that I’m all out of bread. Then proceeded to cry even more.” She wipes the tears from her eyes that have not yet fallen. “Thank you for this, but you didn’t have to.”

I just sit there, stunned at the rambling that comes from her. I never knew someone could be this emotional in the span of a few minutes.

“Um, that's okay. I hope these help with cravings. I just want to say thank you for grabbing the schoolwork I missed. I really appreciate it.” I give her a small smile as she shoves a Rollo in her mouth, swallowing the whole thing in one. Oh my fucking god.

“Oh, it's no problem really. I just didn’t want you to get super behind in the schoolwork since it can pile up. I asked your roommate about your class schedule so I could grab the assignments.” She continues stuffing her mouth with pieces of candy as if she hadn’t eaten for days while washing it down with the rest of her first soda.

I turn towards the front of the class, reading the board that Professor Mikens was currently writing on. It’s the lesson we are covering today, except in extensive, bold letters. REVIEW OF CHAPTER 4-6. Didn’t we just finish those chapters and take a test on them?

Anxiety shoots through me as he turns around once the class is filled. Did we all fail the test? Is the class average that bad? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Hello, class!” He yells. “I have your tests graded, and the average score as class was a C.” The entire class erupts in murmurs. “Settle down everyone. I know that this might be shocking, but with that being said, I’m going to be very generous and let the ones who got a D or lower retake the test.” Chatter erupts again, and all I can think about is whether I'm one of those who got a D. “You have one week to sign up for a day that I have available during my office hours to retake it. The new grade you get will replace the one that you scored first with. Any questions?” He finishes. The class goes silent instantly, more than half of us anxiously waiting to see our grades.

I stayed up late every night leading up to the day of the test, but hearing the results caused my confidence to dwindle. I’ve never been great at math, even in high school. I was lucky enough to pass that with a B, and I thought that was hard compared to this. I’m too scared to see my grade. If I could I would be in every tutoring session that Crestview offers. Except, I barely have enough time in my schedule; my hours at the coffee shop are long, and I have classes three days a week and tutoring on the opposite days. On top of that, trying to find some sort of free time for the people around me.

“Alright, class. Please turn to page 394 in your textbook. Today, we will be discussing differential equations and how to verify the solutions.” He explains while writing it out on the chalkboard. I sigh, lean back in my chair, grab my pens and highlighters, and begin writing the notes down.

This is going to be a long day.

After an hour and a half and an extremely sore hand, the class finally comes to an end. Professor Mikens stands in front of his desk, handing out the tests and by the look of most of the students, I know what he said was not an exaggeration. I walk down the stairs and up to the Professor to grab my test.

“Hi Professor, about the extension. I understand if you aren’t able to give it to me.” He holds out my test, and I see a D in red ink at the top. My stomach immediately sinks to the floor. How am I going to be able to make up this test on top of all the other assignments?

“I won’t be able to give you that, I’m sorry. But I do have a proposition for you,” he explains. “The test brought your grade down from sixty-seven percent to forty-eight percent. I’m willing to give you an extra week to make this up since you are relying on the scholarship the school gave you. If you get a B or higher on your retake test, it will count towards the missing assignments. I know you work hard and put effort into your studies. That's why I'm helping you out here. You’re smart, Ms deKanter. You just need to put more effort into this class.” He says, finishing off with a small smile.

“Thank you so much, professor!” I yell, jumping in one place on the balls of my feet. I want to give him a bone-crushing hug, but by the looks of it, he’s rather staple his finger to the board than be given a hug. “I will study every day for the next two weeks. You won't regret it, I promise.”

“I hope not, Ms. deKanter.” He responds with a smile. “One more thing, here is a list of tutors that I highly recommend. The top one was an A+ student of mine last year.” He hands me a piece of paper, and I glance over it, debating on messaging any of them. The person he mentioned, Hunter Beckett, sounds familiar.

I look up from the paper and give him one more thank you before walking out of the classroom towards the coffee shop to start my shift. I continue to look over the list of tutors, chewing on my bottom lip as I decide who to call when I crash into a very hard surface.

I fall flat on my ass, and all of my papers scatter across the hallway. I close my eyes, hoping that this embarrassing moment never happened.

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