The Golden Couple

Chap. 48

I slowly rotated my pencil around in my hand, chewing my bottom lip.

Why hadn't I studied harder?

I glanced up at the clock, feeling my heartbeat pick up in my chest.

Fifteen minutes to complete my final. And then my Junior Year was over.

I would officially be a Senior.

If I passed this English final. And at this rate, I'd be retaking 11th grade English.

Our final for my English class was divided between two apparatuses. This God forsaken essay question. And a research paper, which I'd made a 98 on.

But I couldn't afford to make a B in the in the class. That could ruin my Valedictorian status. That could ruin my dreams of getting into Duke, of studying medicine. That could ruin everything.

So I bucked up and finished what I started writing, even though I'm not even sure what the question's asking.

I finished writing right as the bell rang, and my teacher stood waiting by the door to collect our finals.

I handed her my final, and she flashed me a smile. "Have a wonderful summer Sophie."

Evil bitch.

I hiked my backpack up over my shoulder, heading out into the hallway where kids were screaming and yelling as though they'd just been released from prison.

And essentially we had.

But I wasn't exactly in a partying mood.

I headed out to my car, letting out a long sigh as I massaged my temples.

"What time is it?" I heard a voice call out behind me, as two arms wrapped around my waist.

"Not now," I muttered, disengaging myself from Bryce.

"Summer time," he corrected. "The correct answer is summer time."

"Are you ready to go?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, pouting his lips as he stared at me. "Did something happen on your English final?"

"I'd just like to go home."

He wrapped his arms around my neck, biting back a smile. "My love, it's over. Done. We're seniors."

"Maybe."

"I promise that you passed English."

"I needed an A."

"And I swear to God that you got it. You tutored me for that final." He reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Babe, it's one test. One final." His eyes flickered around. "Don't let it ruin your day."

I buried my head in his chest, letting him wrap his arms around my waist.

This one final could ruin my GPA.

"I know you're still thinking about it," he chastised.

"I can't help it."

He took my hand, dragging me back towards the school.

"What are you doing?" I whined.

"You do this to me every year," he called over his shoulder. "And this year I'm going to do something about it."

I let him take me back inside the school, curious as to what his plan was.

And then he opened up our English teacher's classroom door, where she was seated at her desk, grading finals.

"Mr. Harrison," she greeted, a half-smile on her face. "Can I help you?"

"I need to you talk to about the Final."