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Failing and Football Players

Caitlin

'What am I going to do? If mom sees another bad grade from me, I'm grounded until I'm eighty.' I mouthed to my best friend, Kyle, when I saw the failing test paper fall on my desk.

That’s the third one this month, and tests are weighted far more than just the daily grades. If I fail my homework assignments, which trust me, I have been, then they don’t count as much, but if I keep failing all these tests then I’ll fail this class. Failing this class means I’ll lose a credit, losing a credit means I’ll have to take the class again, having to retake a class will disappoint my parents, disappointing my parents means I’ll feel really bad, and if I feel really bad then I will die. So that’s why I cannot, under any circumstances, fail this class.

'Look on the bright side, your mom won't live until you're eighty, so you'll get off early.' I threw him an exaggerated glare then put my head on my desk.

“Miss. Mason,” There was a light tap on my shoulder, and my eyes met the eyes of Mr. Pass, “please see me after class.” He gave me the stern look he uses to intimidate us, and I have to say that it never fails.

‘Ooh, Pass is going to get you.’ That little screw-head thinks this is funny? How does a girl taking AP classes, with high A’s in them, manage to single-handedly fail Algebra over the course of eighteen weeks? Not only does it seem impossible, I think it’s illegal. One person cannot be gifted in every subject area of school except one; it kills the whole smart vibe that radiates off them.

‘Sometimes I really, really hate you.’ I threw the note on his desk, and watched in amazement at how the people acted once the bell rang. Some fled straight out the door, while others waited around a few minutes to talk to their friends. I stayed in my seat though, as Mr. Pass sifted through the papers on his desk, occasionally glancing back at me.

“Miss. Mason,” He shook his head without looking up from his papers, “I’ve seen you in your other classes, and you’re spectacular. So why are you failing my class? It couldn’t be because you want to stay with me another year.”

I awkwardly cleared my throat, “I’ve never been good at math.”

“I know a lot of students who aren’t, as you say, good at math, but they still find a way to pass. Whether it’s studying every night, or getting a tutor. I think we’re going to try the latter with you.”

“What? Mr. Pass, no, you said that some get by on just studying, can’t I try that first?” My eyes were about to fall out of my head, the sweat on my palms grew more, and I could feel my face heating up in frustration. I could not get a tutor, its social suicide. I pride myself on being smart, but now I don’t have that anymore.

“Studying is something done on your own, Miss. Mason. You didn’t take it into your own hands, so I’m taking the matter into mine,” He voice was soft, calm, but his meaning was chilled, “I want you to take this packet home with you. This will be your tool. I’m not sure if your tutor will want to do things the way I planned, but here’s everything you need to know to pass my exam. You know that that exam is weighted very heavily.”

“Who’s my tutor?” I sighed in defeat, and the ends of his lips twisted up into what was almost a smile.

The door creaked as it opened, and it shut with a soft bang. The school’s football jock walked in with a look of disgust on his face mixed with a hint of cockiness. His dirty-blonde hair was soaked with sweat, and his football jersey was in his hands, “That would be me.”

I actually laughed out loud, but quieted when I saw the serious expression on Mr. Pass’ face, “You’re kidding me right?Bryson Avery? But he’s an idiot!”