Page 33 of Before I Deserved You
I cringe at her words and sag into my chair, bringing a shaky hand to my forehead. We’re roughly four months away from graduation, and even though I appreciate Mrs. Wood giving me a heads-up, I’m already stretched so thin I can’t possibly do more than I already am.
“Now,” she continues, leaning forward and resting her forearms on her desk. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I’m aware you’re helping your father after school most afternoons, but you can’t let your education suffer. It’s imperative that you improve your grades and focus on getting the credits needed to graduate. Maybe we could set you up with a tutor? I could also talk with your dad to let him know you’re struggling. Maybe I can convince him to cut back on your work hours until you manage to get back on track.”
Yeah, that would go over really well.
“What do you think?” she prompts when I don’t reply right away.
“I think it wouldn’t make much difference.” I try not to squirm under her scrutiny. I hate the way she always looks at me. Head tilted, eyes searching, like she’s trying to solve a frustrating puzzle in her head. Like she can fix me somehow if she can just figure out how to work the problem.
“Jake.” She offers me a sympathetic smile. “This is about your future. About the rest of your life. If you don’t graduate, you won’t be able to go to college. You know that, right?”
I snort with bitter amusement. “I won’t be going to college either way, Mrs. Wood, so who the fuck cares?”
“Language, Jake,” she scolds.
“Sorry.”
“And to answer your question, I care. I care because I know how smart you are. You’re a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I just feel like you’re not reaching your full potential, and frankly, I’m a little concerned. You’re exhausted, Jake. You’re struggling to stay awake during my classes, and you’vechanged from this boisterous, funny kid who loved to laugh to this sullen and serious version. I know the death of a parent is hard on a child, but I’ve gotta ask. Is there something else going on at home that I should know about?”
Straightening in my chair, I lift my chin and do my best to look unaffected.
“I thought this was about my grades. If I wanted to do a deep dive into my private life, I’d see a therapist.”
Mrs. Wood takes a deep breath, frustration written all over her features. I know she’s most likely heard the rumors, but I’ve realized over the years that people tend to question you less if you can manage to look them right in the eye when delivering your lies. I don’t enjoy the deception, but my circumstances have forced me to become quite proficient at it.
“Fine. I’ll let it go for now. But I need you to know you can trust me to keep anything you tell me confidential. I want to help you, Jake, and I would like to see you succeed. As I’ve said, I see a lot of potential in you, and I’d hate to see that go to waste. I hope your father agrees that school should be your priority. I believe it’s in everyone’s best interest not to have you repeat senior year.”
Fuck. I couldn’t let that happen. The thought of Tessa, Carter, and Megan graduating and going off to whatever college they choose while I’m stuck here for another year without them makes me want to vomit. I’m burning the candle at both ends and I’m aware I can’t keep this up much longer. I need to be done with school so I can stop this insane juggling act and focus on work and work alone. Mrs. Wood is right. I am exhausted, and I’ve become a shell of myself over these past few months. Everything is just … too much. I have to graduate. Anything less is unacceptable.
“I’ll get a tutor if that’s what it takes to get me out of here.”
This must’ve been the right thing to say, for Mrs. Wood’s concerned expression morphs into a blinding smile.
“Great. I’ll talk it over with your other teachers, as well as your dad. I’m sure we can come up with a plan together. I don’t want you to worry too much. There’s still time, and I believe in you. I know you can make it work.”
She seems a lot more confident in my abilities than I am. Then again, she isn’t the one having to face my father. My shoulders drop, and I give her a tight smile while I gather my things and leave the room with a heavy heart.
Twenty-Two
Tessa
I’m huddled against the wall just outside the main entrance of our school, shielding myself from the strong winds. Not expecting the storm brewing on the horizon, I failed to bring a sweater and am now forced to shift from foot to foot in order to keep warm. I’m tempted to abandon my position and head to the newsroom, where my friends are currently working on the layout for the latest edition of our school paper, but worry and curiosity keep me rooted to the spot.
Knowing I wouldn’t be any good to my team if my mind was otherwise occupied, I informed Sophie I’d be a few minutes late and went to wait for Jake. I still have two articles to edit and one of my own to finish by the end of the day, and I know I’ll never be able to concentrate without first finding out what’s happening in that classroom. So, here I am, on the brink of catching pneumonia, wondering what’s taking my boyfriend so long. Suddenly, the double doors explode open, and Jake storms past me like a bat out of hell. He hasn’t seen me pressed up to the building, and before I can make my presence known, he strides up to the nearest tree and drives his fist into its trunk with so much force it makesme wince.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he roars, cradling his hand against his chest and doubling over from the pain. “Motherfucking, cock sucking, son of a bitch,” he adds for good measure before he straightens and delivers a series of kicks to its base. When he notices movement out of the corner of his eye, his head snaps around, and his wild gaze snags on me. His chest heaves with heavy breaths. “Shit, Tessa. You scared the life out of me.”
“What’s wrong?”
Jake gives a derisive chuckle, opening and closing his hand to test the severity of the damage caused. His knuckles are raw and angry-looking, but judging by the way his fingers move, nothing appears to be broken.
“What isn’t wrong? I’m failing the majority of my classes, and Mrs. Wood said if I don’t improve my grades, I most likely won’t be able to graduate.” He rakes both hands through his disheveled hair and starts pacing in front of me. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” he admits. “What do I have to do to get a fucking break? I’m tired, Tessa. Where does it end?”
I keep quiet, giving him a chance to get it all out before I take a tentative step toward him. Slow and steady, like one might approach a wild animal.
“If you need someone to study with, I can help. My grades are good, and I have the time—”
“I don’t!” he snaps, looking at me with heart-wrenching desperation. “When are we supposed to study? After school, when I’m rushing home to make sure the kids are fed and cared for before heading to work? Or after work, when I barely have the energy to take a fucking shower, let alone sit and study textbooks for hours? I guess there’s always the weekend. Oh, wait. I forgot. That’s when I’m working overtime to catch up on the jobs we’re running behind on.”
