Failing For You - Gojo x Reader

Chapter 9

"How was your summer? Did you do anything fun with family? Friends?"

I swirl my latte around in my cup, messing up the little cat made out of foam. It starts to resemble some sort of monster. I distinctly remember telling my advisor that I don't speak to my mother, I don't have a father, and my brother and I aren't close. I swear I've told her.

"Um...my summer was fine. I stayed here in town and I worked a lot. It wasn't anything crazy," I look up at the woman, at the cheerful smile plastered on her face. She's always so happy that it feels fake.

"Okay! Very nice," she nods encouragingly. "It's always nice to save a little in the summer. It was warm too, wasn't it? Did you...travel at all....see friends...go swimming? Anything recreational?"

Her smile is a little wolfish as she stares at me expectantly. 

I glance around the coffee shop, uncomfortable. "No. No traveling this year. I really just...worked."

Her eyes narrow a little as she nods again, like she's trying to unlock some hidden meaning in my words. There is no hidden meaning. Nothing fun or interesting happened. I barely even got to save any money because most of it went to rent or food or necessities. A little even went to my brother, who swore he would pay me back. I'm still waiting for the money. 

As if she could read my mind, my advisor asks, "How's your brother doing?"

I guess she does remember after all. 

"He's...alright. I saw him the other day. Seems like he's doing the same as ever," I grimace. 

"That's good to hear!" She smiles. 

Is it?

There is no place I want to be less than this advising meeting right now. It's so awkward and makes me feel like a loser. She wants to be supportive and I hate it. If I can just get through this, she'll leave me alone for a while. 

"Yeah," I smile. "It was good to see him."

Yeah, right. 

My smile seems to put her at ease and marks the end of the polite formalities and updates.

"Alright, Y/n", she reaches into her bag and pulls out a file, mine presumably. "I've been looking over your transcripts and classes you've signed up for, and it looks like you're in really good shape to graduate."

I nod, relieved. I knew this myself as well, but it's always affirming to hear it from an advisor. 

"You're getting your last general education credit done this semester," she reads over my transcript. "It looks like it's an English literature course. How is that going so far?"

"It's been going well. Easy, too," I tell her. "It should boost my GPA a little."

My advisor sets down the paper and takes a sip of her coffee, nodding at my words. "Amazing. You know, if you want to redo your economics class from last fall, I can work something out and add you to that course this semester. If we did that, you would probably get another GPA boost and you still wouldn't be above the credit limit this semester."

Ah. The dreaded economics course.

Last fall when I took it, I had been going through a particularly rough time. My brother had relapsed and had moved in with me in lieu of going to rehab. He'd shown up on my doorstep, high and regretful, and I let him in. I had also invited in an immeasurable amount of stress. I had tried to call my mom and convince her to fly out to help me, but she never returned my calls. Alone, I tried to help him and I pleaded with him to get professional help. I was completely unequipped to get him through something like this and I was drowning in the fear that I'd lose him. He refused. I was so scared that he was going overdose that I refused to eat until he checked into a rehab center. Calling my bluff, he refused again. And again. And again. Eventually, I could barely function and was essentially starving. I stopped going to class, stopped taking care of myself completely, and couldn't stand up without blacking out.