Bless You

[17.] dye it purple

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EDITED

"I failed?"

I couldn't believe my eyes. The English test that I studied for three entire hours, the English test I laboured with blood, sweat and tears to finish, the English test I thought I did decent on – Failed.

My dream's prophesy has led me astray.

"I'm sorry, Amaya," Mr. Parker said, leaning forward in his desk. "It seems like you are having some trouble with the material."

Way to state the obvious.

"Could I retake the test?" I asked.

Mr. Parker sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm afraid you cannot. You are already behind with the lessons because of your sudden switch to this class, and retaking the test will only add to it."

"Well, what could I do?"

"Excellent question!" Mr. Parker said, clasping his hands together. He smiled brightly, showing his pearly whites. "You see, Amaya, you have an amazing imagination."

I shifted in my seat. "Um, thank you?"

"Your stories are great. The plot lines, amazing," he said while creating a 'perfect' sign with his hand. "But I can barely read them because your grammar is... not the best."

I grimaced.

"And," he said, flipping through my test, "you also need to learn how to read in between the lines. You need to dig deeper." He pointed his index finger to the page. "Like this question, 'Why did the author choose the colour blue for describing the curtains?'"

I frowned. "Because he liked the colour."

"No!" Mr. Parker punched his hand to the table, making me jump. "It is because it symbolizes sadness and despair! The author described the curtains as blue because it foreshadowed the main character's deep sense of loss and sadness because of the death of his pet. Right?"

I blinked at him.

"I don't get it."

"Which is exactly my point!" Mr. Parker said. He pushed the test aside. "Amaya, you need a tutor."

Aaaand he said it.

A sick feeling grew in my stomach. From what Mrs. Hales, my previous English teacher, told me, I would most likely be getting the worst possible person to tutor me.

"I recommend Arnold Smith."

Lo and behold, the forbidden name.

I opened my mouth to protest.

But Mr. Parker stopped me. "You really need this credit to graduate. I understand how difficult this must be for you, but this is your only option."

"Could I get someone other than Arnold?"

Mr. Parker shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Arnold Smith is an excellent English tutor and I already spoke with him. It is all set up."

If I had any form of liquid in my mouth, I would have done a spit-take.

"What?" I sputtered. "He agreed to this?!"

"He said he needs community hours, and he's running low on students," Mr. Parker explained. "He needs you as much as you need him."

I fiddled with one of my braids.

When Mr. Parker called me to speak with him after class, I knew it was going to be bad. I didn't know it was going to be this bad. I could already see Mr. Parker saying even more awful things, like: "May, you are not going to the college you've always wanted to go to because you are awful at English and you will forever live alone with ten cats because you are that awful. Oh, and you will probably die alone, too."