Monster in His Eyes(39)

I wonder if Naz drew another picture of the future, if it would be clear for him yet.

I haven't told Naz. I'm not sure how he's going to take a long distance relationship, even if it is only two months.

I'm not sure how I'm going to take it.

He's been gone twenty minutes now, and I already miss his touch so much.

I head back into the room after I'm clean, and changed, feeling  wide-awake but I don't want to disturb Melody. So I grab the remote,  turning the television on low, and stare at it in the morning light.

Talk shows.

Baby daddy drama.

Cheating boyfriends.

Celebrities in rehab.

I lose myself in everyone else's drama, momentarily forgetting my own  issues. Melody stirs in bed a few hours later, as the clock starts to  approach noon, and rubs her eyes. "Oh God, I feel like ass."

"Long night?" I ask, flipping the channel to find more mindless entertainment. Court shows.

"And morning," she mutters, sitting up. She's still wearing the same  clothes from yesterday, old makeup streaking her tired face. "I didn't  wake you when I got home, did I? I tried to be quiet, but I was drunk as  shit."

"No," I say. "Didn't bother me at all."

She climbs to her feet and trudges toward the bathroom. I flip through  channels again, not paying it much attention, finding something less  dramatic.                       
       
           



       

Game shows.





"Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

The voice shrieks right beside my ear, rousing me from a deep sleep. I  yelp, holding my hands up defensively as someone shakes me. Disoriented,  I open my eyes to see Melody's blurry face right in front of me,  grinning like a maniac. "What?"

"Wake up!" she says again, physically yanking me to a sit.

Groaning, I push her away and blink rapidly. "I'm up, I'm up …  ugh, why am I up?"

"I did it," she says, jumping up and down in front of me. "I got my B in Philosophy!"

It takes a moment for her words to sink in. Suddenly wide-awake, I stare  at her, anxiety brewing in my stomach. "Wait, grades are posted?"

"Yes!" she says excitedly. "Can you believe it?"

"Uh, that's wonderful," I say, rubbing my eyes. I'm trying to play it  cool, but it's senseless. The anxiety makes me want to puke. Standing  up, I push past her to boot up my laptop, logging into my school account  to check my grades. My heart pounds rapidly in anticipation, but as  soon as the page loads, everything in me comes to a stop. My stomach  lurches, my heart nearly stalling.

Philosophy: C

"No, no, no," I chant, scrolling through the page, going back to look up my grade on the final. 88.

Eighty-eight.

Eighty-fucking-eight.

"This can't be happening," I say, shaking my head. Bile burns my throat that I try to swallow back. "I missed it by one point."

I'm dumbfounded. I don't know what to think, or feel, half asleep and  out of it as I scroll back to my final grades. Melody babbles behind me,  but her words go over my head. I don't hear it, nor do I hear my phone  ringing. The sound evades me until Melody thrusts the shrieking object  right in my face.

My eyes shift to the screen as I swallow thickly, pushing my feelings  down. Don't panic, I tell myself. You'll figure something out.

I close the browser on the laptop before answering the phone. "Hey."

My voice sounds meek. I clear my throat and repeat myself, but Naz chimes in before I can finish the word. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing. I, uh... nothing."

A moment of silence. "What's wrong?" I start to say 'nothing' when he continues. "And don't say nothing."

I let out a deep sigh. "I got a C in Philosophy."

"You passed!" He sounds genuinely enthused. "That's great."

"No, it's not. I needed a B to keep my scholarship. I don't understand  why I didn't get it! I studied my ass off for that final. I missed the  mark by one point... just one point. That's it."

The words pour out of me, tears stinging my eyes. One fucking point. It's unbelievable.

I'm kicking myself for not answering the question on the back of the  final seriously. I would've written my entire life story had I known I'd  need just one more damn point.

"Ah," he says. "I see."

The nonchalance of his voice twists me up in knots, anger simmering  inside of me. It's not Naz's fault-it's nobody's fault but my own-but  I'm too upset to be calm about it. I let out a deep groan, shoving my  chair back to stand up. "You know what? Fuck this. I'm going to go talk  to Santino to see if there's anything I can do to change it."

I hear Melody inhale sharply, not a fan of my plan.

"You want me to handle it?" Naz asks.

"No, I'll do it," I say. "It's my problem."

He bids me good luck, telling me to let him know how I make out. Hanging  up, I throw on some clothes and slide my feet in a pair of shoes before  heading for the door. I walk to the philosophy classroom, my nerves a  frazzled mess, as I silently plead to whatever God is listening for a  break.

Just give me this, please.

The classroom is open, the lights on. I expect to find him in his small  office in the back of the building but instead he's sitting there,  papers and books splayed out in front of him. His glasses are low on his  nose as he studies a textbook, taking notes from it.

Carefully, I step in the classroom, knocking on the doorframe to garner his attention. "Professor Santino?"

He glances at me over top his glasses before turning back to his book. "Miss Reed, what can I do for you?"

"I, uh... I wanted to talk to you about my grade."

"What about it?"

"Why did I get a C?"

"You should be asking yourself that, not me."

"But I did everything I could."

"Did you?"

"Yes. I needed a B. I was only one point away."

He finishes writing whatever he's writing and puts his pen down, leaning  back in his chair. He eyes me peculiarly for a moment, grabbing his  pointer stick to tinker with it. He uses it to motion toward the front  row of desks, wordlessly telling me to take a seat. I nervously oblige,  sitting right in front of him.                       
       
           



       

His expression is hard, no compassion, or understanding, before his eyes  flit around the room. "This classroom has two exits. Why do you think  that is?"

Ugh. I thought I was done with him calling me out to answer absurd questions. Is it extra credit for my extra point?

"Because the classroom is so big, and it holds so many students, that  it's logical to have more than one exit in case of an emergency," I say.  "There's probably something in the fire code about it, about having a  certain number of exits per however many people occupy the room, so  whoever designed it had to include them. It holds 100 students so I'm  guessing 50 people per exit?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Is that your final answer?"

I hesitate. "Yes."

"It's because it's safer, Miss Reed."

My brow furrows. "That's what I said."

"No, it's not. You referenced hypothetical fire codes and mathematical  equations. You said it was logical, not that it was safer. And that,  Miss Reed, is the difference between a B and a C. You always complicate  things and miss the entire point."

"But that's what I meant," I say.

"Maybe so, but let this be a lesson to choose your words carefully,  because people will take you at face value and hold you to what you say  and not what you mean."

"But I-"

Before I can get anything else out, he picks up his pen and goes back to his work, cutting me off. "Good day, Miss Reed."

Shoving my chair back, I stand up. I should've known coming here was  pointless. I storm out of the room, tears stinging my eyes again, this  time stubbornly falling down my cheeks. I wipe them away with the back  of my hand as I pull out my phone, dialing Naz's number.

It rings twice before he answers.

"I fucking hate him," I say right away, stepping outside. "He's such a dick."

"I take it appealing to his compassion didn't work."

"No, it didn't, because he's heartless. He treats me like I'm  ignorant... like I'm just this stupid little girl who doesn't understand  anything."

My voice cracks as I try to hold back tears. The line is stone cold  silent for a second before his quiet voice carries through. "You're  crying."

"No, I'm not."

"Don't lie to me."

It's stupid to cry. I feel ridiculous. I wipe away more wayward tears,  trying to pull myself together. "I'm fine. I just... ugh, he makes me so  mad. He's so smug and acts like he knows everything and I just wish  someone would knock him down a peg."