Oh fuck math!
“Ohhhhhhh noooo not again!” The goth girl bent far over the sink and Bailey was sure she was going to puke and shrank back against the stark white tile, hoping to stay away from any splash. But the goth girl just moaned and rocked and held her belly.
“Are you okay?” Bailey put a hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“Fine.” The girl snarled, shrugging her hand away. “Fuck off.”
Okay then. Bailey picked up her backpack and left the bathroom. She stood at the crossroads of the hallway. If she went left, it was back to chemistry. Right, home. Bailey sighed, made up her mind and turned left, trudging down the hallway. Professor Jacobs was amusing the class—they were all laughing and in a good mood when she slipped back into the classroom and tiptoed toward her seat.
She didn’t look up to see if he noticed she was back. Instead she pulled out a notebook and pretended she was writing notes while all the while her pen insisted on writing the number “7” over and over and over again. It was the scurry and bustle of students filing up the aisles toward the exit that broke her magic-seven spell. Time to go.
Then she remembered.
See me.
There was a crowd around his desk already. She could just slip out. But then what?
“Bailey.” His voice stopped her at the door. Again. Déjà vu. She glanced over her shoulder at the students parting like the red sea at his desk so he could see her more fully. He crooked his finger at her and she felt her belly sink. He wasn’t going to let her go.
She walked slowly toward his desk, bypassing the throng of students and sitting at an empty desk when he asked her to. It was another half an hour before the last student had left. Bailey just sat there with something gnawing in her belly looking for a way out. Then he got up and went to the door, closing it and shutting out the noise of students with it.
“So you wanted to see me?” Bailey chewed on her lower lip as he approached. She expected him to sit down at his desk but instead, he came around the front to lean against it, looking down at her.
“So…” He took off his glasses—somehow his eyes seemed even bluer when he did that—and pulled out the tail end of his button-down shirt to clean them. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, feeling a lump growing in her throat at her denial. She couldn’t tell him the truth—that she was a complete idiot and couldn’t handle anything past fifth-grade math. “I guess I didn’t study hard enough.”
“If you were another student, I might believe that.” He put his glasses back on and they brought his eyes into sharper focus. “What really happened?”
“I don’t know,” she said again, feeling helpless. “I just… froze. I guess.”
“Not a good test-taker?”
She shook her head, teeth shredding her lower lip—she actually tasted blood—not able to admit the truth.
“I was going to offer you the opportunity to re-take it.” He met her eyes, searching. “Do you think it would help you to take it alone? Maybe a little less pressure?”
The kindness was too much. The lump in her throat kept her from swallowing around it.
“Listen, Bailey, I want to help. With a seven percent on your exam, even if you got a hundred on the final, I’m afraid you still wouldn’t pass.”
She nodded, blinking back tears. I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. Willing them back almost worked.
“Is this class a prerequisite for you?”
She nodded again. Of course it was a prerequisite for nursing. Why wouldn’t it be? But she still couldn’t fathom how she was ever going to need or use it as a nurse-midwife. Why couldn’t she just skip all the nursie-things she wasn’t going to need and focus more on the midwifery things she would, she didn’t know!
“So you have to pass?”
Another nod. If she could keep not speaking, she could keep from crying. And she couldn’t cry in front of him. Wouldn’t. That would just be the cherry on her humiliation cake.
“Look, I’ve done everything I can think of to do.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve stayed after and worked with you on problems. I’ve given extra credit at every opportunity. I even decided to grade on a curve this semester…”
“For me?” Bailey’s voice came out as a mere squeak. Had he really graded on a curve… for her? That wasn’t possible. Was it? They’d spent a lot of time together after class, going over problems again and again, until she was sure she had it down pat. Until the next time she tried to do them on her own and all the information flew out of her head.