STUDY BUDDIES // Miles Morales

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EDITED; 11th Aug, 2024

...

"Miles Morales," the teacher's voice cut through the classroom's hum, drawing his attention back to reality. She slid a math paper across the desk, her expression a mix of disappointment and concern. In bold red letters, the number '20%' was scrawled across the top.

Miles took the paper in his hands, feeling the weight of that glaring failure settle in his chest. He stared at the grade, the disappointment gnawing at him. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last, but each time hurt just a little more.

"Both you and I know that your guardians won't be pleased with this," the teacher continued, her voice gentle but firm. She leaned forward, her eyes searching his for a sign of understanding. Miles nodded silently, turning to face her fully, bracing himself for what was to come.

"Are you going to have me kicked out?" he asked, his voice low, almost resigned.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair as if weighing her words carefully. "If I recall, during your first few days here, you tried everything in your power to fail—purposely bombing every test, refusing to engage in class, all in an attempt to get expelled. But something changed, didn’t it? Over time, you accepted that you weren’t going anywhere because I wouldn’t let you." Her gaze softened as she spoke. "You're a bright boy, Morales. I won’t deny that. But this," she tapped the paper lightly, "this isn't you faking it anymore. This is something different."

Miles shifted uncomfortably, feeling the truth of her words settle in. She was right. He had tried and failed, not just in school but in pulling himself out of this downward spiral.

The teacher continued, her tone becoming more determined. "However, despite everything, you’re still one of this school’s brightest pupils, and I’m not ready to lose that. That’s why I’m assigning you a tutor."

Miles blinked, his shock evident. "What—wait—I don’t need a tutor. I can improve on my own—"

She cut him off, her tone unwavering. "That’s exactly what you said the last twelve times we’ve had this conversation. So, tell me, what improvement have you made since then?" Her question hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

Miles couldn’t answer. He knew the truth—his grades had been on a steady decline.

70%

62%

48%

36%

26%...

And now this. He was slipping, fast.

Seeing his silence, the teacher softened again. "Don’t take it too hard, Morales. I know you, which is why I asked a student to tutor you instead of one of our teachers. I think you'll find it easier to connect with them. Trust me, she's perfect for you."

Miles raised an eyebrow in confusion. "She...?"

"Yes, she. I've already informed her about your situation. You two will meet here tomorrow, same time, same place," she explained with a hint of finality.

...

Later, after being dismissed, Miles trudged back to his dorm room, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him. He climbed into bed, the exhaustion catching up with him all at once.

"You okay?" his roommate asked, glancing up from his book.

"Yeah... I’m fine," Miles replied, though his voice was weary, lacking its usual conviction. He barely had time to think before sleep overtook him, pulling him into the darkness of a restless slumber.