“That’s not really any of your concern.”
They exchange knowing glances.
“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to fuck up at the game tonight.”
“I’m not,” I tell them, and I push past the guys so I can enter the classroom, but Timothy places a hand on my shoulder.
“I know you’re not,” he sneers. “Just like I know you’re not going to keep fucking little Miss Riley after today.”
“Excuse me?”
“She bombed the last test, man. You really think she’s going to be passing the class?” He chuckles. “She’s not going to have any time for you now, man. That test was worth half of her grade.” He shakes his head. “Nice move on sharing that picture the day of the exam. I didn’t think you had it in you. I definitely wouldn’t have. It was cold blooded.”
He turns and walks away. Jared looks at me with a shocked look on his face.
Shit.
How had I forgotten what I did to her?
I am such a fucking idiot.
I peek into the classroom and see that Emilia is already inside. She’s sitting by Karen and they’re talking to each other. Nobody seems to notice me at all. Mr. Wilson is walking down the hall to the classroom, so I leave my “friends” and hurry to him.
“Good morning, Mr. Reynolds,” he says politely. “And how are you today?”
“I have a problem,” I tell him.
Something in my voice must tell him that it’s urgent because he doesn’t tell me to wait until after class. Instead, he looks at me carefully.
“What’s your problem?” He glances over my shoulder where Jared and Timothy are still loitering, obviously trying to eavesdrop, but we’re too far away. They can’t hear us.
“I did something pretty horrible to Emilia Riley on Tuesday morning,” I tell him. “It caused her to do poorly on the exam.”
“Mr. Reynolds, you know I can’t discuss the grades of other students with you.”
“She shouldn’t have gotten a poor grade,” I tell him. “It was my fault.”
Mr. Wilson looks torn, but he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry,” he lowers his voice. “But we both know I can’t change a student’s grade once it’s in the system, and I can’t make exceptions when a student has a bad day. Her grade is her grade, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
I punch the locker beside us, completely pissed.
“Not good enough.”
He raises an eyebrow and sighs. I know he doesn’t want to send me to the principal’s office. I can see it in his eyes. Mr. Wilson is a kindhearted person who really goes above and beyond for the brats of Crescent Academy.
We don’t deserve him.
I know that more than anyone else, but right now, I don’t need kind.
Right now, what I need is for him to change Emilia’s grad to something good, or to let her retake the test so she’s not flunking out of school in her last semester. What if she doesn’t pass? I don’t even know what they would do to her. Would she go to summer school? Would she come back next year and just take one class?
Even if she didn’t drop out of school, I know for a fact that she’s trying to get scholarships to colleges for next year. Having a horrible grade isn’t going to reflect well on those applications, especially if she wants to major in something related to writing or literature.
“Please,” I whisper, but he shakes his head.
“Not good enough,” I repeat, and I start marching down the hallway.