Just So I Could Call You Mine

Chapter 8

Jess

"Jess, I think you can do better, this essay is not your best work." Mrs Kenny plucks my essay off her desk and hands it to me. "I know fiction is your strength, but maybe focusing on other aspects will be beneficial to all your exams."

My stomach twists in worry about my grade and all I can manage is a small nod to her criticisms.

I gingerly take the paper from her and gape at the bold C+ in taunting red ink. The ink starts to blur on the page.

My shoulders slump and I fight back annoying instinctual tears with a weak smile.

I don't get Cs in English Lit! It's one of my strongest subjects and this result is like a jab to my worth.

I wrote about 'Witchcraft in Macbeth' and as I scan my paper for all her corrections, one sticks out most.

At the bottom of my paper, written clear as day, "not your usual paper, has no heart." Them seven words are a knock to my self esteem that I don't think it's able to take. It's a blatant indication that I'm not as good as I once thought I was.

No heart.

Okay that's fine. I know I can do better. I have to prove I can.I have to prove that I can write, that I'm a worthwhile person. Without good grades I feel worthless.

My grades feel like the only thing I have. I'm not pretty like everyone else seems to be, I'm not popular, I'm not on the track team anymore. My academics are the only thing I have to offer to the world, and what if I don't even have that?

I feel sick to my stomach as I shakily walk back to my seat. Mrs Kenny has a remainder of a sympathetic smile on her face, but it's not enough to comfort what my brain is feeling right now.

I once got an 80% on my algebra test and I wasn't too upset. but my parents told me that I didn't try my best and that it wasn't good enough.

I now crave the feeling I get when they tell me I did good on a test, or when a teacher notices I studied and I got an A.

My brain is flooded as I leave class. I trudge through each class until lunch, my mood soured.

I float through the schools halls planting a fake 'I'm ok, I'm  totally not having a mini existential crisis' smile on face.

I'm very good at schooling my emotions so no one notices. If I can't be anything, I can be the 'happy' girl.

Taylor and Aubree don't like it when I'm not happy all the time. They don't seem to mind when they are moping though, and I think it's because they know they have my whole attention, pity, and care.

When I told them grandpa was sick, I was just telling them normally and they said "Aww Jess! Don't bum us out with your sad stories," but I'm sure they just meant that they didn't like seeing me sad.

When I arrive outside with my lunch, the bench we sit at is empty and every other one is full with other juniors. I stand like a loser for a minute until I decide that maybe they are in the cafeteria.

The cafeteria is bustling with people when I walk through it's yellowing white doors. I scan the big open room, struggling to see or pinpoint Aubree and Taylor, when my eyes finally settle on them in the corner, at one of the popular tables.

But that's not the first thing I notice about them.

Aubree is sitting on Taylor's lap. Her long, lightly tanned legs dangle over the side of his, contrasting against his dark skin.

As I near closer, the whole table of people quieten awkwardly.

"Hey," I say warily, approaching their table cautiously.