Chapter 38
Lisa
Formaldehyde hangs in the air, the dead rats on the tables covered with wet paper towels to prevent them from drying out, making this look like a weird episode of CSI or some shit.
"Class, I have your tests from yesterday. When I call your name, please come up and I will hand them to you." Irene instructs, pulling a large stack of tests out of her colourful tote bag. Irene begins reading off names and I glance at Jennie, who looks nervous.
Chairs scrape against the floor one-by-one as students go up to collect their tests. Jennie's name is the seventh one to be called, and she stands to go grab her test from Irene, followed by rat boy and Rosé shortly after.
"Douma." Irene calls, and Somi stands to go grab her test. As soon as Somi's hands grasp the paper, Irene calls out my name. I stand up, slowly walking to Irene to try to avoid Somi. But Somi deliberately walks slower, forcing me to walk pass her. She purposefully brushes up against me, sending me a flirtatious smile. You'd think after dodging all of her texts and calls that she'd finally give up, but no.
I don't react, breezing pass her to grab my test, my heartbeat nervously kicking up a notch. I take my test from Irene, quickly glancing at my grade, and my heart sinks. No fucking way.
My shock, disbelief, and disappointment quickly bleed into anger. Fuming, my hands clinch, wrinkling the paper a bit. I turn on my heel and trudge back to my seat, avoiding Jennie's stare. I take a seat, shoving my test under my lab manual so no one can see, and try my best to keep my temper in control.
"Lisa?" Jennie asks softly, hesitantly.
"Not right now, Finch." I state blatantly, refusing to look at her, and she immediately backs off. I don't mean to be so rude and abrupt, but I know if I don't have a minute to cool down I'm definitely going to lose it.
For the rest of the lab session, Jennie lets me simmer in my sour mood. She lets me be, and as soon as Irene dismisses the class, I'm packing up my stuff and leaving in record time.
"Lisa, wait!" I hear Jennie call after me.
Eventually she catches up, rounding me and placing her hand on my chest to stop me. I stop, not wanting to bulldoze her over. She looks up at me, her warm brown eyes questioning and vulnerable. "Talk to me. What was your score?"
My eyes bore into hers, and for a moment I see a glimmer of hope behind them. I can tell that there's a part of her that thinks I'm faking her out, like I did the last time. Silently, without taking my eyes off of hers, I shrug off my backpack and reach inside, handing her my crinkled up test. She takes it, hesitantly tearing her gaze away from mine to look at my score. I watch as a dozen emotions scroll across her face, her expression morphing from shock, to disbelief, to excitement, finally landing on confusion.
"Lisa, you got an B+! That's amazing!" she exclaims excitedly, showing me my score, as if I misunderstood.
"Yeah, a B+." I reiterate bitterly. "Which means it's not an A."
Wow, who would have thought six months ago I would be the type to get this upset if I didn't get the grade I wanted. Half the time, I didn't even care if I passed or failed. Just as long as I could keep my grades afloat, high enough to play football, that's all I cared about. And to miss the mark by one tiny bit. A part of me thinks I would be less mad if I absolutely failed.
Her face falls into realisation, and she stares back down at my paper, as if the score will somehow magically change. She quickly flips through my test, scanning my answers. "You still did really well." she says, trying to be encouraging, but I see the disappointment on her face. It kind of surprises me.
