P.O.W.E.R.S.

The Offer

AN: Oh yeah, time to get things started!

Two weeks before bank robbery

I stared at it. The big red F on my paper, signaling the inevitable end of my fantasies of securing a safe, secure job away from people. I was doomed to become a cashier at a rundown gas station, where I would have to get used to being mugged every other weekend by someone desperate for cash. Because I had failed my first paper in my P.O.W.E.R.S. course. The one that was worth almost a third of my grade, excluding participation points which I knew I also bombed at. The one on the section that I was supposed to be good at, the section I actually agreed with for the most part. The one that was supposed to make up for the certainty of mine failing the next section of this class. How? How could I have failed? I thought in sheer panic, the F seeming to grow larger until it took up my entire vision. What the hell happened!?

In numb disbelief, I glanced down at the inked letters below the evidence of my failure: "come see me in my office after class." Why was is that a summons to a meeting with a college professor suddenly felt like a summons to the gallows? I tried and failed to swallow around the nervous lump in my throat as I searched for a way out of this scenario I found myself in. I began scanning my paper in sheer desperate panic, but there was nothing. No indication of why I had failed. No more red markings. Just the damning letter grade and the bright red demonic summons. What the hell am I going to do?

That question continued on repeat in my head for the rest of the class, drowning out the world around me. It wasn't until I felt a tap on my shoulder that I realized class was over.

"Is something wrong Will?" Jenny asked, friendly concern practically oozing out of her pores.

I looked up and tried to put on a smile, although I think the shakiness probably gave me away. "I'm...I'm fine. Why?"

"You've been wringing your paper in your hands for this entire class. Are you sure you're okay?" I looked down in shock. I didn't even realize I had grabbed the paper, but sure enough it was now a wrinkled mess from the movement of my hands.

"I...," I was a second away from spilling out all my worries when I stopped myself. This was my mess, and I was going to fix it. "I will be" I finished, the words ringing false in my ears.

Jenny had skepticism written all over her face, but she backed up to give me some space. "Alright. Just...I'm here for you if you need me, you know?"

"Yeah Jenny, I know. Thanks."

...

"Thank you for waiting, Mr. Banks. Please, have a seat."

Dr. Shurke had been delayed talking to students after class, leaving me skittering outside his office like a pig trapped in a lion's den. By the time he opened the office door, I all but collapsed in the chair across his desk, drained of energy for all of a second before my nervous foot tapping and fidgeting with my paper returned.

Dr. Shurke's office was as dull as it was stereotypical. The walls were covered in massive bookcases overfilling with books and binders straining to contain the sheer mass of papers trapped inside. His bland grey metal desk contained nothing but typical office equipment and a single photograph in a plain black frame. I wonder if it had a picture of his family in it. I wonder if he had a family, or if he spent all his time staring keenly at the panicked fidgeting of college students.

"Do you know why you are here, Mr. Banks?"

"Cause you want to apologize for accidently failing my paper and give me an A?" I inquired, my nerves making my speech both squeaky and broken, ruining the effect of my joking question.