Page 6 of His Fractured Girl

“An eighty is still a good grade, Sophie. When you said low, I was expecting for you to have gotten a D or an F. There were a lot of students who completely missed the mark. But your effort showed. It just wasn’t quite what we were looking for.”

He doesn’t understand. An eightyislike an F in my mind, especially if I’m striving for honors. “I’m trying to get a perfect GPA, Travis. An eighty will kill me right out of the gate.”

“Wow.” He shakes his head. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself as a freshman, Sophie. You know college is supposed to be fun, right?”

Fun doesn’t get you into grad school. Fun doesn’t get you a decent job and pay the bills. Fun makes you drink too much and end up making the biggest mistake of your life. Fun is dangerous. But getting good grades and being able to rely on myself… Now, that is safe.

“I didn’t come here to party and get wasted.” I’ve vowed to never drink again. “I came here to get my degree so that I can get accepted to a top-tier grad school and can one day get the job of my dreams.”

His smile really is unnerving. It weakens my defenses, and after everything I’ve been through, I don’t like feeling weak.

“You don’t even want to have a little bit of fun?” He holds his fingers up in a pinch.

“Sure, I do.” I nod. I like to have fun with my roommate. Going to the movies. Having girls’ nights. Participating in cooking competitions with our toaster oven to see who can make the most gourmet dish for dinner. “But I also want good grades. Now, can you please just tell me what I need to do to fix this?”

It looks like he doesn’t even know what to make of my response. I guess I’m not the typical student, but I’m assuming he’s a typical guy, and that the way he’s looking at me is meant tomake me believe that he actually cares. When in reality, the only thing he probably cares about is getting laid.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that. Professor Maxwell doesn’t usually give extra credit opportunities, so I’ll have to discuss it with him first. I’ll be able to let you know what he decides by next class.”

Really? That’s it. His stupid grade may actually stick, which means I’m either going to have to drop the class or figure out how to get one hundreds on every remaining assignment from here until the end of the semester—which is going to be impossible with this guy grading them. Awesome. Just awesome.

“Do you know when the last day to drop the class is?”

His brow creases. It doesn’t seem like he likes the idea. If he’s so concerned, he can change my grade. Or at least, give me another chance on the assignment.

“The deadline is next Friday. But why would you drop it? You have As on all the other assignments.”

“I want magna cum laude. And if there’s a chance that won’t happen, I’d rather have to repeat this class in the spring than ruin my opportunity.” Preferably with a different professor and a different TA.

“Why is it so important to you, Sophie?”

Did I not just give him an explanation?

Because I’m never going to be the prettiest, or the most popular, but I can be the smartest. And with smarts brings success. And success brings power. And power keeps the monsters away.

“It’s a goal I set for myself.” I shrug. “Thank you for your time.” I stand from the chair. “Once you let me know about Professor Maxwell’s decision, I’ll decide whether I need to drop the class or not.” I turn to walk out of the office, but his voice stops me at the door.

“What are you doing tonight, Sophie?”

The flutter in my stomach is a dangerous warning.

“Studying.” Working on my personal logo assignment so I can have him take a look at it before I turn it in for a grade on Friday. I definitely can’t afford another B, that’s for sure.

“I’m throwing a party tonight; would you want to come? Have a littlefunthis evening.”

Definitely not. Going to a party is the last thing I want to do.

“Sorry. I’m not a partying kind of gal. Besides, it’s a school night.”

He lets out a sigh, shaking his head. I’m not trying to be a curmudgeon. I’m trying to keep myself from falling into another trap.

“You need to loosen up and live a little. All that studying is going to cause wrinkles. What do you say? A few drinks, a little dancing, a good conversation with your ‘cute’ TA?”

Those dimples are tempting, but there’s no way I’m falling for his charms.

“Thanks for asking, but I’m going to pass. I’m sure there will be plenty of pretty girls there for you to dance with.” Andconversewith. And do all kinds of dirty things with. “I’ll be waiting for your email regarding my grade.”

I turn and walk out the door, feeling raw. A five-minute conversation and the past is at the forefront of my mind. The memories chasing me down as I rush back to my dorm.

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