Window

10.

Although the sun was shining, her day seemed dark. Although the day was young, her day seemed over. It was only the beginning, and she had no idea how bad her day would grow to be. 

Emma sighed heavily as she dropped down into her seat, slapping her physics folder down on the desk in front of her. "Well hello there" Dean greeted cautiously, watching her shoulders slump as she settled into the chair. 

"Hey" Emma exhaled heavily with a weak attempt at a smile. A soft groan escaped her lips as she ran her hands over her face.

Pursing his lips, Dean studied her for a few moments. He studied the glum expression, the teary eyes and the physics folder that sat on her desk. "What'd you get on the physics quiz?" Dean ventured, watching disappointment flood Emma's face. 

"I did awful" Emma muttered softly, keeping her eyes focused on the desk where they could hide the tears. 

"You look like you're gonna cry" Dean pointed out, earning an angry glare from Emma. 

"Shut up. I'm not gonna cry. It's just a stupid quiz"  Emma snapped back, crossing her arms over her chest as she sunk down farther in the seat. 

"C'mon, what'd you get?" Dean prodded, curious as to what grade was causing such a great attitude shift. 

"A 72 okay? God, I bombed" Emma groaned, slamming her hands down on the desk. Dean stifled a chuckle, pressing his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. A long, drawn out whine escaped Emma as she proceeded to drop her head into her arms. 

"I got a 68. That quiz was fucked from the start" Dean replied with a soft smile, wishing that the girl would just lighten up. Emma didn't move from where she hid, a sad sigh escaping Emma. Leaning forward, Dean propped his elbow up on her desk. "Em, why are you so upset?" 

"Because," Emma groaned, her voice muffled by her arms, "I knew it. I knew all the material. And I just- I did so bad. I can't- I knew it. I knew it better than most people and then bam". 

Dean breathed a laugh, shaking his head softly. "Emma, it's just one quiz. An eighteen point quiz, so really, that is not gonna change your grade. It's not going to get your acceptance to college revoked. In fact, it's not gonna change your life at all. So you, my friend, have to stop being so damn hard on yourself."

Taking a deep breath, Emma pulled her head up from her arms. Her tired eyes studied Dean's, a thankful smile eventually tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yeah, I know. I don't know why I get like this" Emma admitted with a small shrug. 

"Do your parents pressure you?" Dean wondered, attempting to search for the root of the immense pressure Emma had riding on her shoulders. 

Emma shook her head slowly before she answered, "No. They're very supportive, no matter what grades I get. I think it's self imposed. Something to do with the part of me that's a wee bit of a perfectionist." 

Dean laughed at that, because the part of her that was a perfectionist was much greater than a wee bit. Emma attempted to suppress her grin, but it broke through, leaving her smiling. "Thanks. Really" Emma said softly, tracing her finger over the worn surface of the desk. "Sometimes I need a bit of a reality check." 

"Anytime, sweetheart" Dean winked, earning a laugh from Emma who rolled her eyes. But it didn't bother Dean, because at least she was smiling again. 

...

"So we're going to the weight class Friday, right?" Charlotte asked as she finished pulling her long hair up into a high pony tail. 

Emma stood next to her in the mirror, running her hands through her wavy hair that tumbled down to her shoulders. Staring into her golden brown eyes, Emma gave herself a nod. "Yes. Seven o'clock. It's our favorite instructor, so we have to go" Emma grinned, lifting her backpack off of the floor before swinging it over her shoulders.