Lessons Learned, Healing Hearts

Pity Party, Table for One (Chapter 12)

Hopping back into the car after spending the entire day in the Blue Light studio, Piero was surprised not to be greeted by his usually cheerful Marlow. Instead, she stared straight ahead, her hands strangling the steering wheel.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"It's nothing," she muttered, keeping her head down.

Catching the distressed tone in her response, all eyes looked at her.

"Marlow... tell us. What's wrong? Did something happen at school?" Ignazio inquired, sitting forward in his seat.

Shaking her head, she refused to answer. Then, reaching to put the key in the ignition, Piero pulled her hand away, holding it in both of his.

"Don't tell me it is nothing because I can see you've been crying," Piero insisted, "and I want to know why."

Marlow exhaled sharply and looked past Piero, out the side window, and offered what she hoped sounded like a reasonable excuse.

"I'm just tired. Yesterday was a really long day."

"I don't believe you," he flat-out said, his tone and expression echoing his disappointment that she hadn't told him the truth. Pulling away from him, the image of her reacting to Jinn flashed across his mind. Receiving that same forced smile as he had back then, Piero softened his tone.

"I get that you are tired, and I'm sorry we kept you out so late, but this is more than just needing some sleep."

"I'm sorry," Marlow said, swallowing hard. "I'm just beating myself up over a course I am taking."

"What course?" Gianluca asked.

"It's nothing. This isn't anything you can fix, so don't worry about it."

Dropping her gaze, a single tear slipped onto her cheek.

"Marlow," all three boys called out at the same time.

"If you don't want to talk about it, then we understand," Ignazio said. "We just want you to know that we're here for you."

Feeling a second tear drop, Marlow quickly wiped it away.

Having spent the past week together, Marlow appreciated the warm acceptance into their circle. Knowing their concern was coming from a place of comfort rather than judgment, she turned to face them and let it all out.

"It's just a stupid math course. I have what they call dyscalculia. It's like dyslexia in reading but with numbers and problem-solving, etc. All throughout school, I struggled and have had countless hours of tutoring and extra help from teachers just to pass." Inhaling a stuttered breath, the floodgates opened, and Marlow's frustrations poured out unchecked.

"I get that our education needs to be well-rounded, but understanding math has nothing to do with what I want to be, so I delayed taking a course for three and a half years. This semester, I had to take it. On the advice of my councillor, I enrolled in the easiest math class they offered. It probably was easy for most people, but it's been four months of absolute hell.

Today, we had a practice final. I couldn't even get through half the questions. Monday's real exam will have more questions, be timed, and account for 45% of my final grade. I know I am smart. I have excellent grades in everything else. It's..." Her constricting throat choked her words. "If I don't pass, I don't graduate. If I don't graduate, I can't apply for my masters."

Turning back around to face the steering wheel, Marlow rested her head on the headrest. Closing her eyes, it took both hands to wipe the flowing tears from her face.