“Why don’t you get a tutor?” My Uncles voice crackled through my phone speakers. I’d managed to placate Miss. Gray by saying I wanted to speak with my guardian to discuss our options before making any decisions, but I already knew I wasn’t gonna be doing any of it, I just wanted to get out of there. 

Uncle Rory did however insist I called him after the meeting to tell him about it.

“I don’t have the money to pay for that.” I scoffed, hoping he would read into the ‘I’ in that statement as the ‘we’ I meant it to be.

“Your school does it for free, you know. A lot of kids do it after school because it counts as volunteer hours for them. One of my coworkers has a daughter in the program.” He explained.

Of course they did. Just my luck.

“I don’t need a tutor. I just need to try a little harder. I’m probably just not used to being here yet. If I just really put my mind to it I’m sure I can get it done.” I sighed, back pressed up against the wall like I was trying to slip through and disappear.

Class hadn’t started yet, but students were already beginning to flood in, so I had slipped away and hidden myself in a corner by the music room to take this call.

“Jet, sometimes we just can’t do everything. It’s not a bad thing to need help, everyone does. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Don’t push yourself too hard.

Don’t push yourself too hard.

Don’t push yourself too hard.

I’ll tell you how hard I can push myself!

If I was just a little bit stronger, a little bit faster-

If the lights in these classrooms were just a little bit dimmer and I was a little less tired and the teachers spoke a little bit slower, in a way I could understand- 

If the gym teacher stopped rolling his eyes at me when I walked over towards the bench every day, if the other students didn’t glance at me as they ran past with those scrutinizing, pitiful gazes of theirs-

If I was just a little bit stronger, a little bit healthier, a little more like everybody else, I could do this!

And it infuriated me!

Because I remembered when I was like everybody else.

When I could run and I could walk without pain and I could sit in a classroom without having to cover my eyes and I could walk and I could make it through a day without nearly collapsing from exhaustion and I could walk and I could stand and I could do what everyone else could do and more and I could WALK! 

I missed it more than anything!

My Uncle drilled into my mind that I couldn’t push myself too far because if I did then I’d break, but I think I’m not pushing myself far enough!

I want to do this.

I want to do this so badly.

It hurts so horribly to do this, but if I just bite my lip and keep pushing, maybe I can make it to the same place everyone else is!

I can handle a little bit of pain, I’ve handled it nearly every day for two years.

I can do this, I can do this, I can do this if I just-

-

-try harder.

The nurses office was always so cold. I hated that.

The ice pack pressed against the back of my neck probably didn’t help, but both things together would probably fix whatever was wrong with me today.

I’d nearly passed out in Gym class today.

After nearly collapsing in History.

After barely making it to Music class.

I hadn’t even been actually running. I wasn’t even walking! I was just there on the sidelines and suddenly my heart was pounding (or felt like it was pounding) and everything was so bright and I was so dizzy…

I already felt like the unfortunate victim of a hit-and-run, the poor deer turned red mist by the massive truck with blinding headlights going twice the speed limit down a country road, so all I could really do now was lie there pathetically while I waited to either stop feeling like I was two seconds from meeting whatever higher power was up there or for me to become so overwhelmed I threw in the towel and called my Uncle to pick me up.

I’ll tell you which wasn’t going to happen.

I’m not going home.

I need that scholarship!

My grades may not be great, but I can get them up! I need that scholarship because if I don’t…what are the chances I actually get into college?

If I do this, I can get into a good enough school, and eventually get a good enough job where I can work to repay Rory for everything he’s done for me. My Uncle would never again have to worry about his finances. He would never have to leave his home and move back to his shitty hometown in the middle of fucking nowhere, Illinois to stay on his feet.

I’d take care of him like he’d done for me.

But I couldn’t get that scholarship if I kept going home because I was too weak to stand!

How was I meant to get my grades up when I felt like this?

My head throbbed indignantly, and I pressed a cool hand to my forehand in hopes it would help the pain dissipate.

And I just laid there, pathetic, weak…worthless…

Maybe my Uncle was right,

Maybe I did need help.

…but I didn’t want it.

-

The next two weeks sucked.

I spent what little time I had awake and not either too tired to think or in too much pain to move playing guitar or listening to music. My homework and makeup classwork went untouched.

I couldn’t even bring myself to open my bag and pull it out to look over.

I didn’t go to school for most of those two weeks, sometimes not even because I was in pain but because sometimes it just felt…so pointless to. 

When I did show up, I barely did my classwork. Papers gone empty of words, pencils went unused and promptly lost in the mess that was once an organized backpack, and I was losing myself down the spiral of indolence.

Not even for lack of trying. I just felt like I…couldn’t make myself move to do anything, no matter how much I tried, no matter how much I wanted to.

And I did want to. 

I’d never liked school. But I still wanted to try, I had to try! 

It wasn’t like this last year…I’d gotten at least okay grades then…

But I wasn’t this sick then….

So I began to doubt, not just myself, but everything I’d ever believed in myself.

I couldn’t get this scholarship, I couldn’t even get a C in math class!

Who was I to think I could do this? I wasn’t like everybody else, I was just a failure who wasn’t even strong enough to walk to school without having to sit down halfway there to rest!

Maybe I was just being over dramatic about what I was experiencing and I really wasn’t trying hard enough. 

What if it got so easy to lie back and use my pain as an excuse that I became lazy? 

Maybe this is all my fault-

No. No! I know that’s not true…I can’t make up how much this hurts…

But…what if this is all I am now? 

Falling down the steep pit of worthlessness, never being able to do anything ever again, never having a future or being able to live my life and never being able to do anything?

What if I wasted my entire life and this is all I will ever be?

What if I have no future and I did waste it all because I was too busy taking everything I had for granted?

What if I lost my chance to have a life, a real life like everyone else does, like everyone else will when they graduate?

What if I never find out what’s wrong with me and I die like this and I-

-

So…I joined the tutoring program at school.

It felt like a surrender, like I was the commander of a great battle finally raising the white flag rather than someone just…giving in to what I probably should’ve done two weeks ago.

Miss. Gray was very happy when I barged into her office a few days ago and exclaimed that I was joining the program. I completed the arduous task of filling out all the paperwork (the one sheet of paper), and then she told me that she would find someone in the program she deemed a good fit for ‘my personality’ to meet with. 

Then two days ago I got a slip of paper sent to me by one of the TAs from her office, claiming that Wednesday, 3:30 PM, right after school in the Library I would be meeting with the person assigned to help me. Nowhere on this note specified who it was. I silently hoped that it would be someone I’d never met before. 

What are the odds anyway of me getting assigned to someone I used to know well? Slim, right?

But still, despite the fact I decided to give in and join the program of my own free will, walking to the library after school that cool September afternoon, it felt like I was walking to the gallows. 

I trudged like I was walking through mud, head low and blasting music through my headphones to try and drown out every nervous thought that invaded my mind the moment the bell rang dismissing us, though they’d been swirling in my head since I decided to speak to Miss. Gray and made all this official. 

But it…it was fine it was fine it was fine it-

I shoved the door to the library open with my shoulder and stepped in. It was mostly empty; what few tables were taken were either occupied by groups who I assumed were likely also a part of the tutoring program, or solo students working on their own projects who looked too busy with their work to be there to help someone else.

Would it be so wrong to hope my tutor forgot?

I ended up choosing one of the tables all the way in the back end of the library, by the dusty books nobody ever touched and behind most of the shelves. Far away from anyone else so nobody could see me back here, and even if I talked at a regular volume it would probably be hard to hear.

I checked the time. 3:17. Shit, I was early.

Tossing my bag to the floor, I pulled my phone out and scrolled for a while, tapping my foot on the ground and trying to ignore the suffocating sensation of my heart pounding.

The moment I heard footsteps coming back in my direction, I shot up, spotting a girl with light brown hair walking towards me. Was that my tutor?

No, she stopped halfway down the aisle and grabbed a book then walked the other way.

I sighed and dropped my phone, nervously picking at my nail polish. 

The whole point of this year was that I’d be able to do this myself. I wouldn’t need to talk to anyone here! I didn’t want to. This was only temporary, and then next September I’m out of here.

Getting a tutor didn’t mean I was like, socializing I guess, not to me, but it still felt like a failure on my part. I wasn’t even good enough to do this myself. I had to get help from someone else. Someone I don’t know. Someone who’s gonna need to talk to me and be around me and- ugh! 

By the time I’d picked almost all of my nail polish off, flakes of black paint scattered across the table from where I’d tried to clean them up and failed miserably, I just let myself slump forward onto the table, hoping whoever came back here would assume I was asleep and just head home- that is if they come back here to see me at all.

And then I began to feel guilty.

Why didn’t I even want to give this a chance? How bad could this even be? I had to at least try.

Rory wanted me to, and I couldn’t let him down, not after how proud of me he said he was when I admitted I was doing this. I didn’t even want to imagine the look on his face if I told him I quit before it even started. He’d try to hide it of course, but I’d be able to see it in his eyes, in the slight twitch of his lip as he forced his face to remain neutral. I had to try, or I’d let him down.

…yeah. Yeah!

I was doing this for my Uncle. For Rory! 

I had to at least give it a try, for him.

Everything was gonna be fine, I’d get everything in order and then I’d-

A familiar voice met my ears. Though it was deeper than when I last heard it, my heart still dropped down into my stomach and leapt back up again. I still recognized his voice immediately, even after four years.

“Ellis Thomas?” He said, and I shot up so quickly I nearly knocked myself out of my chair. As I did, I caught a familiar pair of beautiful brown eyes.

…because of course it would be him.

Why would I ever think it would be anyone else?

This was just my luck.

“I’m Sebastian Hayes,” He smiled softly, extending a hand to me. “I’ve been assigned as your tutor. It’s nice to meet you!”