by Nella Tyler
“I know, sweetheart,” Mom told me. “But at the end of it all, you’ll have your degree and you can get a good job, have some real security.” I smiled, feeling terrible for not coming out and telling my mom the truth. I didn’t know if I would actually have a degree—not in four years, at least. I wasn’t even sure that I would make it through the end of my freshman year.
“I’ll keep working,” I told her, trying to keep my voice even and cheerful. “In the meantime, what’s going on with you and Dad? I’ve missed you both so much.” I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more about my classes—I knew that if I kept talking about them, I’d eventually just start crying and tell my mom everything.
“Oh we’re so boring,” Mom said, laughing. “I did run into Dillon’s mom the other day at the grocery store—she said he’s been partying it up and trashing his grades in the process.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling an even deeper lurch in my stomach at the mention of my boyfriend.
“You broke up with him just in time, Nicki my girl. Just think—if you’d stayed with him, he would probably have you partying it up too, ruining your grades.”
“I’ve met someone a lot better than Dillon,” I said, remembering Ty. But I remembered too the sight of his ex-girlfriend grinding on him at the club. “He’s a senior, and he wants to become an accountant when he graduates.”
“A senior!” Mom’s voice was full of approval. “And an accountant is a pretty solid job to go for.”
“He’s got the CPA exam after he graduates, but he’s been working at his father’s firm during the breaks and stuff.”
“Well that does sound promising! But sweetie, don’t be too serious about him. You’re just a freshman. You should play the field a little bit, especially after such a serious relationship with Dillon.”
“I’m happy,” I told my mom. “And if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. But I like him a lot. He’s really good to me.”
“Well I am happy that you’re happy,” Mom said. “So you are coming home for winter break, right?”
“Oh, definitely,” I told her. “But now I need to go. I’m meeting with some friends for a class project.”
“All right, honey. We’ll talk again soon, and I’ll get more details about you coming home for the holidays once you’ve got some finals behind you.”
“I love you, Mom!”
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
I said goodbye, and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to get the rabbit-quick beating of my heart under control. I hated the fact that I had essentially lied to my mom about my grades. There were a couple of classes—American History and English Literature, along with the basic freshman courses—that I was doing all right in, after struggling all semester.
But in more of my classes I was barely passing. I wasn’t sure if I wouldn’t end up getting academic probation by the time the grades came in; and if that happened, I was going to be screwed for finding classes for next semester. I would have an uphill battle for even finishing the year out, and I still had no idea what I wanted to major in. If I didn’t figure it out by the end of next year, I would possibly be expelled.
“Hey baby, are you okay?” I opened my eyes and looked up to see Ty coming to a stop a few feet away from me. He looked down into my face and I saw the concerned smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Oh yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” I said, taking another quick, deep breath. “I’m just stressed because it turns out I have to get an A on my Psych final just to make a C in the class.” Ty sat down on the bench next to me and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“Well that won’t be too hard,” Ty said, kissing me on the cheek. “And you’re doing okay in History, right? And in English?” I nodded slowly.
“I’m okay in those classes. I just…” I shook my head. “I knew it was going to be stressful, but I guess I didn’t count on it being this stressful.”
“We can do more study sessions if you want,” Ty suggested, giving my waist a squeeze. “Haven’t those been helping you?”
I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. In spite of my lingering doubts about the situation with his ex-girlfriend, I had to admit that Ty was a great boyfriend. The study sessions we’d done together had helped—but I didn’t think that they’d helped me enough.
“They have,” I said. I pressed a kiss to his neck. “I just don’t know how many study sessions I can realistically cram into my schedule—and you’ve got your own stuff to try and get through.”
“I’m solid in most of my classes,” Ty said. “I’ve got high grades in three or four of my classes, so even if I just get a C on the finals I’m basically still going to do well. I want you to stop having to stress so much, babe.”
“That’s sweet of you,” I told him. I turned his face toward mine and kissed him quickly on the lips. “I’ll definitely think about it. In the meantime, let’s get dinner tonight?”
“Let’s get some takeout, how about that? I’ll order from that Chinese place you like, and we’ll double down on the dumplings.” I giggled, shaking my head even as I continued to smile.
“You’re going to make me fat like this,” I told him, poking Ty in the ribs. “Do you really want a fat girlfriend?”
“You are not going to get fat,” Ty insisted, shaking his head. He kissed me on the forehead, then on each of my cheeks, and then on the lips. “In the meantime, I am going to do everything I can to spoil you rotten. I’m going to miss you so much during break!”
“I’m going to miss you too,” I said, cuddling closer to Ty on the bench. I buried my face against his shoulder and breathed in the smell of his cologne. “Maybe we can spend some time together during break.”
“That would be awesome. And we’ll have our phones, so we can call each other every day.”
“Yes!” I smiled, feeling, for the moment, reassured. I kissed Ty again and made myself stand up. I knew that he was busy, and I also knew that I needed to get more studying under my belt if I was going to have any hope of getting through Finals Week.
“I’ll call you in a couple of hours and come over for dinner, okay?”
“Okay, babe,” Ty said, giving my hand a squeeze. “Look: don’t sweat this too much. Freshman year is always tough.” I nodded, taking a deep breath.
“I am going to go bury myself in the library for a while,” I told Ty.
“Good call,” he said. He brought my hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss onto my palm. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I walked away and tried to keep myself as composed as possible. I felt like I was being ripped into shreds. I kept trying to focus on the fact that I was actually doing well in a couple of my classes, after struggling all semester, but all I could think about was the fact that I was in very real danger of getting a D in Psychology. I might even get an F in Statistics—that was a very, very real worry.
I hadn’t told any of my friends, or my parents, or even Ty how little I was managing to understand the subject. I couldn’t let myself admit to anyone other than myself that I felt completely and totally out of my depth.
I strode across campus with my face forward, my shoulders back. I hoped I wouldn’t run into anyone else that I knew well enough for them to want to talk to me; I just wanted to go to the Library, borrow any open study room, and bury myself in it for an hour at least. I wanted a private space to cry and get the panic out of my system, and figure out what I was going to do to try and eke out a GPA that wouldn’t get me in trouble with the school and my parents alike.
I got to the Library and all but one of the private study rooms were taken. I took the key from the girl at the front desk and hurried to the tiny little room, walking past the people on the computers, the groups talking quietly at the tables, the rest of the people who had taken the other rooms.
I fumbled with the key in the lock but I finally got the door open and stepped through it, remembering to close it quietly behind me at the last mome
nt. I didn’t even bother to turn on the lights at first. I just sank down and began to cry, burying my face against my knees, trembling all over.
I had all but lied to my mom about my grades, and I had all but lied to Ty as well. I had no idea if I was going to even make it through finals, and I didn’t know if I was going to be able to get through the rest of college.
If I can’t even scrape through my first semester, how am I ever going to get to graduation? Even more importantly: what if Dillon had been right about me? What if I was just stupid, and not motivated enough, and there was nothing that I could do with myself?
I shook and cried for what felt like an hour, feeling completely and totally helpless, miserable at the fact that I couldn’t even manage to succeed at being a college freshman.
What kind of woman was I? Why would Ty—successful, smart, driven, and wonderful—want to stick with a girl who could barely keep her GPA up? I started to take a deep breath as my panic finally started to ebb away from me. I would just have to keep going.
Chapter Two
I knew that I should probably be focusing on final exams, but I had been so stressed out by my first practice CPA exam that I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax until I re-took it. Instead of stressing myself out throughout the winter break, I would give myself another shot at the practice test.
Instead of keeping it secret the way I had the first time, I told Alex, and I told my Dad. I was too proud to admit to him that I’d taken a practice exam and gotten a low-average score on it; instead, I told him that I was going to take the practice test for the first time just before finals, so that I could have a good idea of where to focus through spring semester until graduation and the real thing.
Dad had been excited to hear that I was taking a practice test, and had emailed me a few resources—study guides, strategy guides, and test breakdowns—that I hadn’t managed to find on my own, which helped me to start to feel a little more confident in myself.
I sat in my room, alternating between watching TV and going over one of my exam prep books. I was going to take the test the very next day—the day before Reading Day, and only two days before final exams—and I wanted to both be as prepared as possible, and relaxed at the same time.
I heard my phone ringing from across the room where I’d plugged it in, and set my book aside to hurry and get it. I knew that Nicki was studying with some of the other kids in her American History class, so it wasn’t likely to be her; the name that flashed on the screen was Dad. I grinned and picked it up.
“Hey, Dad! I’m guessing you remembered I have the practice test tomorrow.” My dad laughed on the other end of the line.
“I had it in my calendar, so it’s no virtue of mine,” he said. “How are you feeling about it?”
“Nervous, a little,” I said. I had decided that I was never going to tell anyone about the first practice test unless I absolutely had to. As far as I was concerned, it would be between me and the practice test company. “I mostly just want to know where I’m weak still, and what I can kind of relax about.”
“Makes sense,” Dad said, and I could picture him nodding. “In fact, it’s a great idea for you to do that before break—though I’m hoping if you don’t blow it out of the water that’s not going to make you go crazy trying to cram all break long.” I chuckled.
“Well, I can’t promise anything,” I told him. “If I get a really shit score I probably will lock myself up and make myself do flash cards and problems all hours of the day and night.” Dad laughed again.
“Don’t do that,” he told me after a moment. “If you get a low score, we’ll go over the areas you performed poorly in, and we’ll come up with a solid strategy to build you up.”
“Have you got any words of advice for me going into the practice test? I liked those articles and strategy guides you sent.” I sat down on the couch and grabbed one of my notebooks to take notes.
“Auditing tends to shake people up a lot more than they expect,” Dad said slowly. “Another thing to keep in mind is that the test itself is a marathon; don’t feel like you have to rush through everything as quickly as possible. Give yourself time to think through the questions.”
He paused for a moment and then added, “Diligence is more important than intelligence. You need to make sure you fully understand the question, and you completely get the answer right in your own mind before you commit to it.”
I wrote down what he said in shorthand, nodding my head even though I knew Dad couldn’t see me over the phone. “Anything else?” I grinned to myself.
“Get a good night’s sleep tonight,” he said, his voice serious. “Stop studying at least an hour before bedtime—preferably two hours before. If you don’t have it by then you’re not going to get it in those two hours. Stop two hours before bed and watch TV or just relax however you need to do.”
“Two hours?” I raised an eyebrow at that.
“Two hours,” Dad repeated, speaking firmly. “And no caffeine after eight tonight. Get a good breakfast in the morning, and if you can get some decent fish for dinner tonight have that. You want to be at the top of your game when you sit down to take the practice test—and that stands for the real exams, too. But go into this as prepared as possible, and you’ll get an honest score.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, setting my notebook aside. I felt a little bit better about the practice test—and about the real exam that would follow in a few months. “How have you been?”
“Great,” he replied. “Ready to have you home. What are you up to over there in school other than studying? You mentioned a girl a while back, I think.”
“Nicole,” I said, smiling. “Yeah, I’m still seeing her.”
“Tell me about her.” I considered.
“She’s great,” I told my dad. “She’s a smart girl, a freshman. Working hard to adjust to the harder workload here, but she’s keeping her head above water.” I grinned to myself again. “She and I have actually been studying together a lot lately—both of us getting ready for finals and all that.”
“Studying?” Dad’s voice was full of disbelief. “College kids are way different from what they were when I was in school.” I laughed out loud.
“Well we do that too,” I said, skirting the accusation. “But she’s really working hard to find her area of study, and to get the best grades she possibly can. We actually do study together, and she’s been really good about helping me stay focused.”
“She sounds like a good influence then,” Dad said.
“I think we’re both good influences on each other,” I told him.
“I’d love to meet her, if you think there’s really something there. She sounds about as different as a person could possibly be from Kelsey.”
“No argument there,” I said. I shook my head; Kelsey had continued to try and text me for days after I’d driven her home, until I’d finally had to block her on my phone. I couldn’t get her to understand that things just wouldn’t ever work between the two of us.
“I’m sure your Mom would love to meet her too, then,” Dad said. “Why don’t you see if she’d like to go out to dinner with us during break sometime, if she doesn’t live too far away.”
I was relieved. If Dad wanted to meet a girlfriend and he thought that Mom would want to meet her, she was already halfway to having their approval.
“I’ll see what she’s got going on during break,” I told him. “I don’t think she lives crazy far away from us. We were talking about getting together at some point anyway, so that would be a good reason for it.”
“If she’s willing and able,” Dad agreed. “I’m glad you’re getting some fun into your life; I was starting to get worried that you do nothing but study or go to class.”
“Alex makes sure I leave the dorms occasionally, and Nicole and I go out once or twice a week—dinner, or a movie, something like that,” I said. “So no, I’m not keeping my nose to the grindstone all the time.”
“A balanced life is a
good life,” Dad said. “I’ll let you get back to prep work for the practice test tomorrow. Remember: a good night’s sleep, a good dinner, and a good breakfast.”
“I will keep those all in mind.” I told my dad goodbye and hung up, plugging my phone back in. I decided to take a quick study break—even though technically my chat with Dad had already been a break—and watch a little bit of the TV show I’d put on.
He was right about not letting myself get too stressed out about a low score; I couldn’t help but believe that just by having taken a practice test before, I was already a little more prepared. I would—I thought—almost certainly score better the second time, and that would give me a good idea of how to prepare during spring semester, so that I’d be 100% ready for the real test after I graduated.
I thought about Nicole; I could tell that she was even more stressed out about finals than I was about the exam. She wouldn’t admit it, but I had seen the panic in her big, dark eyes from time to time when she talked about the tests she had coming up, and her state of readiness for each of the tests.
I had told her over and over again that in the worst case scenario, even if she went on academic probation for a semester, she would be fine; I had a few friends in my major who had nearly flunked their freshman years, but who had come back sophomore year to retake a few classes, regroup, and get their GPA up; most of them had managed to stay on track to graduate in four years.
It was worse for Nicki because she was struggling to figure out which area she wanted to major in, and I knew that—she had admitted it to me while we were in bed together, after we’d finished having sex for the night, when she was at her most relaxed. She felt like she was years behind everyone we went to school with.
“I don’t even really know what I’m good at,” she’d told me the night before, cradled in my arms, curled up against my body. “I came in here without any real plan and now I feel like I’m not going to be able to put a plan together in time.”
“You’re fine,” I had told her, kissing all over her face slowly, letting my hands wander over her body. “You have plenty of time to figure it out, and you have lots of friends and people who think you’re awesome to help you. It’s going to be all right, Nicki-babe.”
