Miss XXX-pendable♡

Ch. 2: C is for College, D is for Debt

"What do you mean I won't be able to make up the practicum?" 

My stomach felt absolutely sick and I started to feel something like fire spread up towards my face. I tried to maintain my voice at a calm, composed level and I took several deep breaths. Dr. Howard looked up from his desk, lowered his glasses, and squinted at my audacity to ask such a question. 

"You heard correctly and know well what I mean, Miss Lange. You will not be able to make up the practicum." 

I looked away from him and turned to the green rug that lay on the floor. Saying nothing, I sat down in the chair in front of his desk. Dr. Howard, a tall and thin man who looked to be in his late 40's, has to be one of the quirkiest professors I've ever had. His awkward and bashful demeanor didn't make it seem like he was being condescending towards me in any way. 

"Look, Miss Lange," I did as I was told and slowly found his eyes, "I'm sorry"-and he genuinely looked it, "but there's no way I can convince the chemistry department to allow you to make up the practicum without a reasonable excuse. We only have lab once a week, which means we only have 15 sessions a semester. So practicum evaluations like this really impact your grade. I only have our lab for our respective time-slot and there's no way I can just have you "make it up" because you slept in. Now, the highest grade you can get in the class right now is a C or D until the next and final practicum at the end of this semester. " 

I nodded and took a deep breath. "You're... you're right professor. I'm sorry. I'll just, I'll do better next time I guess. Sorry for wasting your time." I got up and left Dr. Howard's office, knowing he felt bad for me being stuck in this predicament. 

Now I had to suffer the consequence and get a C-or God forbid, a D- on my grade report in the class until the end of the semester, which will not change unless I get a perfect score on the next practicum, which is nearly impossible. This would never have happened if I didn't sleep in; if I was't tired of hooking up at 6 am. And all for what, a boy who won't even look at me when we crossed paths in the hallway? That's right. I saw him again, when I turned the corridor to the bathroom. He saw me and immediately averted his eyes and walked right passed me as if nothing ever happened between us. Some guy. 

Two weeks passed without further incident between us. He didn't text me or hit me up anymore, and my guess is he's found some other unsuspecting freshman to plow and bury his dick into at 4 am in the morning. Whatever, I'm just glad now it isn't me anymore. 

I'd still see him though, since I have the privilege of having classes at the same time he had his classes in the same building. In a way, it's sad, having to pretend he's dead to me and having to accept that I'm mutually dead in his life as well. I gotta hand it to him though, he still looks good. Almost good enough to make me swallow my pride and text him to hit me up. But no. 

And just like that, I began to rebuild my self-respect and my own sense of worth. Until a call came in and on my phone read three dreaded letters that spelled out a word most college kids unlike me would love to hear from: mom. 

I waited for three rings until I picked up. "Hello?" 

She hesitated, like a killer waiting in a dark corner, ready to pounce. Then she spoke, her voice dark and full of ice it made my own heart freeze. "Are you kidding me, Stacey? What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Mom," I stuttered, "wwwhat, I... I don't know what.. I'm, I don't know-"

"-cut the shit, Stacey. I accessed your school account looked at your current grades right now. Really? A C- in chemistry lab? Are you stupid? My God, I didn't know the Lord gave me a retarded daughter too-" 

"-mom, please!" I always hated the way she incorrectly used the word "retarded". Before she had me, she had a son. He was born retarded, and she couldn't bare to have a child like him be a part of her oh-so perfect family. She gladly gave him up for adoption and told her family and friends he got kidnapped while they were in Cancún. I only found out when my father told me about my brother-I think his name's Jessie, I can't remember- at my high school graduation. "Mom, calm down. Please, let's talk about this-" 

"There's nothing to talk about, Stacey. Your father and I have talked, and we no longer wish to support you financially." 

"Mom what the fuck!"  I was glad Elizabeth and Melissa had class right now because I almost started to cry over the phone. "Mom it's not even my final grade, you can't just do that!" 

"Watch me, Stacey. We're done paying for your stupidity. Good luck finding a way to pay for your tuition. And if you drop out, don't even think about coming home." 

And with that, she hung up, leaving a broken heart and a grand-total debt of $50,000 that I magically have to come up with in her wake.