Chapter 3

An F. I got an F on my first paper. That wasn't right. I spent a lot of time on it. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Could I have really screwed up that badly?

Maybe I should have checked my e-mail for anything Daisy sent me. This was bad. If it were any other time it might be fine but this was bad. We were maybe two months into the school year, and this was seriously going to weigh down my mark. A mark in a class where I needed a 70 or above, no questions asked. This was not the start I wanted to have with my junior year.

I was used to fooling people that I'm fine when I'm not, so getting around even a good actor like Chris was no problem for the whole time we were at the gym. I may not have been the studious nervous-to-fail two-steps-from-nerd type like Molly, but I cared a lot about my marks. The F ate away at me something fierce. I had to get an 80 on the three papers left in the course to break even, and knowing my prof, that was going to be very hard. One slip-up meant a mistake that was going to cost me an extra year. And more money than I had.

I trudged back to the house, the backpack weighing me down more than usual. Chris, as peppy as ever, practically skipped behind me.

"You alright, sweetie?" Chris piped up as we neared the house. "You're not normally this silent."

I chuckled. "Chris, you're always so concerned about others. Relax, my back just hurts."

Chris huffed. "Told you you should have just stuck with 140." He told me. "You pushed yourself too far. Jerome gives the best massages if y-"

"Really, Chris." I interrupted, my smile probably losing its warmness. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"Okay." He said hesitantly as he opened the door. He held it for me and I walked in, sighing as I dropped my backpack down near the door.

"We're ho-ooome!" Chris sang to Guess Who.

Jerome emerged from the living room, the beginnings of a smile on his face. Chris leapt towards him and hugged him. "Hey, baby." He greeted him sweetly. "We all set for tonight?"

Jerome smiled enthusiastically as he picked up a bottle from a nearby table. Smirnoff. "All set!" He announced.

"This looks like a celebration." I joined in casually.

"It sure is." Jerome said happily. "Everything got cleared up. Chris is moving in."

"No shit?" I asked happily. "Way to go!" I hugged Chris supportively.

"It won't be today, or even in the next week, but it's all straightened out." Chris told me, still in the hug. "It's up to the landlord to give Jer Bear a date for me to move my stuff in. I'll just have some difficulty getting my bed up the stairs."

I scratched my head. "There's only one room upstairs, and it already has a bed." I told Chris slowly.

He looked at me with one eyebrow lowered. "And it's not yours or Molly's, genius." He quipped.

"It's time you knew. Chris and I are in a relationship." Jerome chimed in with his own sarcasm.

"Yeah yeah, I know all that." I replied, waving my hands around. "Don't get jokey. But, why don't you just get one king-size bed?"

Jerome and Chris looked at each other, then back to me. Chris shrugged. "We're just not that kinda people, I guess." Chris suggested.

"Okay." I shrugged. "I'll help with the bed. Keep in mind I can apparently only can bench 140."

"Oh, you." Chris smirked, then looked at the bottle. His eyes lit up. "Hey! Maybe you should have some! It might help your back."

"Uh, no, it's fine." I mumbled, my head turning stormy with the news of the F resurfacing in my head.

"Oh, come on!" Chris begged. "It'll be fun. Jer has another whole bottle! You should unwind."

"Please, no." I said seriously. "Maybe another time. I got stuff I should do."

"You've got tomorrow off. Can't it wait?" Chris begged.

"Chris, don't pressure him." Jerome gruffly ordered.

Chris sighed annoyedly. "Fiiiiine." He moaned. "More for us anyway. Go do your work, stiff." He sauntered into the living room. Jerome joined him.

"You wish I were stiff." I remarked dryly as I walked past them.

"Ooh, highlight the homosexuality. Good one. Haven't heard that a million times today." Chris sarcastically called after me as I walked down the stairs. My slight smile I put on for them disappeared, as did any need to pretend to act happy.

I sighed as I sat down at my desk. Well, I thought to myself, I don't want this to be a repeat performance. I threw my phone onto the bedside table to make sure it wouldn't distract me, then I booted up my computer and began to work diligently on other assignments, not even bothering to stop and think until they were all done. Chris was right, failure was a powerful motivator.

But I didn't need this failure. I didn't need the pressure. Not just academically - I felt worthless. An F was a sign you didn't know what you were doing, and I was confident. I fucked up, plain and simple. I wasn't as good as I thought I was. I hated how that was a running theme in my life.

I came back to the world of the living once my assignments were done. I didn't even want to look at the clock - I probably toiled hours away removing any excess stress from the next week. But those are small projects in small classes, I thought to myself. You fucked up.

Out of habit, I opened up my email. Still thinking about the assignment, I saw an email from Daisy. I opened it to see my paper's text, with criticisms and notes jammed in every corner she could fit. At the bottom sat a footnote.

'Given what the professor asked of you, you misunderstood the topic. Rewrite IMMEDIATELY - I can't see this getting anything better than an F. Bye, Aaron.'

No words hit me. I just read. And reread. I was standing up. I was raising my hands. I was slamming them down on the desk, roaring out my fury before retiring to my bed, sitting down on it, collapsing into the best imitation of a ball I could muster.

A timid knock on the door was the next thing I heard. "What?" I barked. The door slowly opened, and yet no one said anything. I didn't want to look up from my stomach. "What?" I repeated.

"A ... are you okay?" Came the timid voice of Molly. She was home.

"What time is it?" I asked, my voice probably muffled considering my mouth was practically in my chest.

"10:32." She answered quietly. I didn't respond, and I could tell she let herself in when I felt someone sit down next to me. Molly's hand snaked her way up my back, and began to rub it sympathetically.

"You want to ask me what's wrong, don't you?" I asked her after a while.

I could hear her smile sweetly. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want."

I sighed and uncurled. "Nah, it's really no big deal." I replied. "I'm just a b-"

A loud text tone stopped me in my tracks. Most teens wouldn't care and would just finish their sentences, but I really wasn't one for texting. It was unusual for anyone to text me.

Molly looked over at the phone, still on the bedside table. "Want me to get that for you?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure, why not." I replied in a defeated tone. She looked at me then, hesitantly, picked up the phone and gingerly put it in my outstretched hand.

I turned on the screen and opened the messages. It was from my dad.

Hey. How's your mom? I need you at my place this weekend, no negotiations. You need to do some work for me. I'll want to hear about your grades when you're here, and I expect to hear good things. You know what will happen if I don't. Dad

Molly read my expression as I read the text. "It's your dad, isn't it... ?" She timidly asked.

My grim scowl turned into a happy grin as I faced Molly. "What, are you kidding?" I merrily chanted to her. "I love hearing from him! He's my daddy after all! The guy who raised m- oh, wait, that's not right." I sarcastically pretended to be deep in thought as Molly's expression turned to scared. "Well, at least he provided for me so I didn't have to work throughout high school to - oh wait, that's not right either. At least he believes I can achieve my dre- oh, right. Dang. Well, he loves mom. Oh wait, he doesn't." My voice picked up heat while keeping up the happy facade. "At least he loves me! Oh wait, he doesn't! Well, maybe he can just GO TO HELL THEN!!" I yelled the last words at the top of my lungs and threw my phone at the wall with as much force as I could muster. I collapsed into a ball again and began to breathe heavily. After a minute, Molly's arm returned to its sympathetic rubbing circle, but she was now shaking. I could feel her.

"I did not need this today." I sighed as I tried still to regulate my breathing.

"W-what happened?" Molly asked shakily, bravely still trying to support me despite being downright scared herself.

"It seems stupid when I say it out loud." I remarked, uncurling myself again. "I failed a paper. Like, straight F. I guess I misunderstood the content. It's for my main class."

Molly understood. I told her a lot. She understood what that meant to my average, and more importantly, what that meant to my dad. "I'm sorry, Aaron." She mumbled, and I moved in for a hug. She gladly accepted.

"It's okay. It's okay." I soothed her. "I'm fine. I just ... I need to think of something."

She broke off the hug. "You could lie." She suggested shyly.

"Lie?" I repeated. "Dad knows when I'm lying. No, that's not even an option."

"Well, what else are we going to do?" She asked me sorrowfully.

"We?" I repeated again. "Molly, there's no 'we' here. I'm the one in deep shit. I'm the one that fucked up here."

"You don't have to visit your dad." She offered quietly.

"Oh, really?" I asked her, my anger still abundant within me. "And what else am I going to do? You know what he does if I disobey him."

"Why are you shouting?" Molly asked me timidly, her body shrunken back. "I don't like it."

"Welcome to my fucking world!" I shouted. "This is what my family did to me. Maybe I'm shouting because I'm learning from daddy! Or maybe even mommy! Who's your family, Molly? Oh right, they fucking love you. I'm sure it would be great to have a family like that, and a childhood free from shouting, but I never got treated to anything like that! If this is the worst amount of shouting you've ever experienced, count your fucking blessings! What do you have to say to that?!"

Molly never said another word. With lightning speed, she got up and bolted out of my room, her face in her hands.

My anger and guilt had their swords pointed at each other for a long while. As soon as I saw Molly run out, they began their battle. "Yeah, that's right." I weakly attempted to shout. "Leave."

Guilt won the higher ground as time slipped by and what I had said in the heat of the moment sunk in. My own words crushed me as I fell back onto the bed, and began to cry. I would spend the remainder of the night there, not even bothering to stop either the tears or the thoughts that swirled around my head.

It felt pretty darn weird, coming into school on a Tuesday. Normally I never would have, but I had a pretty powerful reason to break tradition. On the way to university, I made a stop, and I was all prepared to face the day.

I checked my watch as I approached the lecture hall and sat back on a nearby bench. Soon, I thought as I nervously played with my hands. Very soon. I couldn't recall being this nervous before. I never really had to be vulnerable before, and I wasn't ready to lie to myself again - it was a little bit scary.

Suddenly, the classroom doors burst open, and out flooded a torrent of students. I eyed them carefully, but knew I could take my time - I was waiting for a certain someone, someone who was noticeably shy and reserved, someone who waited until the crowd was gone until she bothered to leave the classroom.

Every second made me more nervous than the last. If I wasn't already hopped up maybe I might think she was on time, maybe even early, but when Molly finally emerged out the doors of her classics lecture hall I breathed a sigh of relief to myself. She shyly glanced around, her shoulders slightly hunched inwards, and began to walk down the hallway.

Swallowing my pride, I jogged after her, eventually catching up to her, matching her pace. When enough time had passed, I cleared my throat nervously. "Hey." I piped up.

Molly turned to see me and stopped. I followed suit. "Hey." She softly said.

"I did a real stupid thing yesterday." I began. "I yelled at my best friend when she was only trying to comfort me. I lost myself. I let anger get the best of me."

"Yeah, you did." She mumbled, still a little uncomfortable.

I sighed. "I let my past get the better of me sometimes. I get caught up in the past a lot. I wish I had a better childhood. I wish I was a better person. I wish I was a better person for you."

"You know that I didn't have the best childhood either." She reminded me, still a little distant.

"Yeah, I know." I admitted grimly. "And I'm sorry. I wish I could change that. I wish I could go back and rewrite yesterday. Or all those other times I yelled at you."

"I don't like it." She told me quietly. "I can forgive you when you yell at me. But I don't like knowing it's going to happen again and again."

"I guess it's like you said." I said. "It's something we're both going to work on. Like it or not, we're living under the same roof for the whole year, whether we're friends or awkward enemies. I just hope we can be the former. You're important to me and you're a reminder of why I want to become a better person." I got down on one knee, smiling, and reached back to a compartment of my backpack to retrieve a single lilac flower, Molly's favorite. "I was an idiot, but I'm going to change that. I'm selfish sometimes, so I'm here to selfishly ask you if you'll stick by me and be my friend. I promise in return that I'll work towards making you happy and avoiding these events in the future. Your feelings matter to me, and I promise, I promise, I'll be a better friend from here on out."

By this point Molly was blushing, but if I knew her, not for the reason I'd hoped. Her index finger was nervously tapping by her side and she was looking left and right nervously. "You're making people stare." She shyly whispered. I looked around and sure enough, students were pointing and smiling at us as they walked by.

My smile got bigger as I stood up again. "Well then, perhaps I should go somewhere a little more private to have this conversation. Care to join me?"

Molly pretended to give it thought. "Well, it won't be much of a conversation if it's just you." She told me, giving me a shy smile of her own. I happily gave her the flower, and she admired it in her hands.

"Cafeteria?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "Okay." She agreed, and we walked down together and quickly found a table.

We didn't say anything for the first few seconds. " ... So?" I asked nervously.

She looked at the flower instead of me. "I still need to think about it." She told me uneasily.