Page 100 of Bonding with the Beta

Tears gather in my eyes, and I slap my hand onto my forehead.

This cannot be happening.

My paper is due in six hours.

Six fucking hours.

Bile rises in my throat. The essay I’ve been working on for weeks.

I stare numbly at my laptop and then calmly stand from the desk and begin to pace. It doesn’t help the tsunami of nausea that creeps through me. I try my damn hardest not to letthe tears fall, but it’s inevitable—they charge down my cheeks without even blinking.

The heaviness in my body begins to give way. My eyes flutter at the sleepless nights I’ve been forcing myself to have, all for this damn essay that has disappeared into thin air.

My fingers knot into my hair as I look up at the ceiling and exhale a distressed cry. “Why the fuck do you hate me?”

I bury my head in my hands and wish I could bury myself in the ground instead. This is not happening. This isn’t my life. This must be some kind of sick joke.

My shaky fingers raise to wipe the tears from my eyes as I reach for my phone. I don’t think. I call the only person I know who could even try to fix this situation. I lift the phone to my ear as I slump against the wall, my knees almost giving out.

“Kayleigh?” Kayden’s voice croaks.

I clamp my eyes shut, guilt swarming me. “Oh my God,” I choke out. “I-I shouldn’t have called you. It’s two in the morning, and you were asleep. I’m so sorry, I–”

“Kayleigh.” Kayden’s tone changes, sounding awake and alert. “What’s wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have called, I–”

“Tell me what’s wrong. Right. Now.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “My work,” I murmur. “My whole laptop has been wiped, and I don’t know what to do. My essay is due in six hours, and it’s gone, and I need it back. I’m not going to be able to finish it in time.”

“Okay, okay,” he says loudly. “It’s fine. We can fix this.”

“How?” I sniffle. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m coming over.”

My heart stammers at those three words. “Wait,” I whisper. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I’m just–”

“Blondie,” he says, and I can hear rustling in the background as if he’s putting on his clothes. “I want nothing more than to be the person you call when you need help.”

I chew on my lip, my stomach flipping like a rollercoaster. “Even at two in the morning?”

“Even at two in the morning. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I end the call and pack up my belongings before heading out of the library and dragging my limp body back to my dorm room. There is a glimmer of hope in my gut that he can fix this, but what if he can’t?

This essay was the one to help bring up my grades.

When I open the door to my room, I almost cry again at the state of it.

Who have I become since being a student? Some days, I despise myself.

I tidy up the mess to distract myself from overthinking and wondering if my work will be salvageable or if I’m totally screwed.

At the knock on the door, I leap off the bed with unleashed energy. I open it to find Kayden wearing a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants.

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