Storm {BWWM}✔️

Chapter Twelve: Testing

George tapped his pencil against the packet lightly. The answer was coming to him, just not fast enough. He bites down harder on his lower lip. He knows the answer. Evelyn drilled him only a hundred times two nights ago about this question. Why can he not get the answer now?

"Oh, my fucking gosh..." He grumbles tightening his grip on the pencil.

George hates quizzes that are not multiple choice. Multiple choice questions gave him hope. If he chose an answer he had a luck that it could be wrong or right, but the right answer is always there.

Not this time. His professor, professor Moore does not believe in multiple choice questions. His reasons was that it "defeats the purpose of studying.", that is bull shit according to George.

If anything, multiple choice questions help George jog his memory. Again, out of the four answers given, one of them is correct. This helps the person that studied.

George could type up an entire argumentation essay on why answer choices are better than fill-in-the-blanks, but he can only wish he was doing that instead of doing this dumb ass quiz.

"What the fuck does this even mean?" George groans, this time a little too loud.

"Is there a problem?" The man standing at the bottom of the steps speaks up.

George glances up at the premature balding man and shakes his head, no. The man nods as well and continues surveying the row of students. He has a lot of ground to cover and has no tolerance for disruption, especially from a potty mouth like George.

George sighs heavily for what feels like the millionth time this morning. He has thirty minutes to finish twenty questions. The test has fifty questions in total. George was able to knock out the first thirty question without breaking a sweat.

Those questions were mainly based on the current chapters vocabulary and the main ideas for each of the three chapters the professor went over in class. That section was so easy.

When George saw that the last twenty questions would require him to rack his memory for the procedures to solve equations or whatever else this test is asking of him, George instantly froze. His brain went into automatic hibernation and refused to respond to him.

George does not remember what acid will almost completely be deprotonated by NaOh. It is such an easy answer, George is well aware of this, but he cannot find it.

George squeezes his eyes shut cringing at the sight of his father's scowl. Every time George feels like he is going to fail, visions of his parents pop into his head. The visions are not motivating. No, those visions are reminders of why George is here, taking Organic Chemistry for the third fucking time.

The visions of his parents are a damn warning of what will come if he decides to give up now. George does not want to see a frown on his mother's face again. He does not want a half-assed motivational speech from his father either. He just wants them to be proud of him.

"You got this, come on George." He whispers to himself, inhaling a deep breath. "I got this." He exhales with a smile.

January may just be the coldest month for George this year, both physically and metaphorically. The snow and constantly dropping temperatures are relentless and his ongoing loneliness is starting to take its toll.

It has been nearly a month since George last spoke or even contacted his family. February is knocking at the door and the season of love only taunts George's somber state. He wants more than anything to turn back the hands of time and rectify his manmade disaster, but he knows that it is impossible.