FAKE IT UNTIL YOU MAKE IT

Cross Academy

I'm back, back back..

Back agaaaaaaaaaiiiiiinnnnn..

And this is the SECOND time I've written this. Wattpad isn't saving!

. . .

"Ms. Strider, I will not tolerate these grades. You are attending CROSS ACADEMY. As I'm certain you're aware, this is an elite private school. You cannot afford to slip up."

I stared down at my paint flecked Vans, the tips of my ears burning with hot with embarrassment.

"You're one of our best pupils. So you'd have no reason to know about the red line, right?"
Red line?
What the fuck is that?
And after being in the school for two years,  how exactly have I NOT heard of it?

"Grades are posted in the main hall every two months, and the ten students with the lowest scores are automatically unenrolled from the academy. You see, we only take the best."

His stern expression narrowed.

"And THIS," he waved my scores dramatically in the air, "is certainly NOT your best. For your sake, I hope not."

I felt my mouth dry imperceptibly.

"Which brings me to another topic. As aforementioned, this is an Elite Private Academy."

He paused, and I leaned forward.

"And.."
And what?

"You still need to pay off your enrollment fee. Your mother and I had worked out a.. temporary.. deal.."

He shifted uncomfortably and swallowed.
He better NOT be hinting at what I think he's hinting at.

"Until she stopped coming by my office. Good woman, she is. How is she? Doing well?" He propped his elbows on the desk, resting his chin in his hands.

I blinked. "She's doing fine."

He coughed, seemingly dissatisfied. "Ah, very good then. Do tell her to pay me for a vist. We have payment issues to discuss. Her last check bounced."

Dread pooled in the depths of my stomach. Shock coursed through me, followed by fear.

"No, no. She's busy of late. Any business you have with her, you can discuss with me." I intoned flatly, trying to keep my voice from trembling.

He tilted his head curiously.

"As you have it. Well, no point beating around the bush. You still have over two hundred thousand dollars to pay off, not including further fees."
Holy shiznut.

He cleared his throat. "That is, unless.." he hesitated.

"Unless?"

"If you were to, for instance, continue the deal your mother and I had.. just between the two of us, of course."

Disgust and utter rage filled me as I had to use all my will to resist from slapping him. I bit my lip until I could taste the metallic on my tongue.
That bastard.

"I can pay."

. . .

I pulled into a vacant parking space, tires screeching as I popped the door open. I hopped out, not bothering to close it, letting my music blare from the shitty speakers for the entire apartment complex to hear.
Fuck them, anyway.

I speed walked to our flat, fingers hurriedly  dialing Jake's number as I rushed up the steps. "Hey, I need you to cover my shift. I have a parent teacher conference and I'm about," I checked the cracked watch face adorning my wrist,"ten minutes late."