Chapter 11

CANDACE

By the second week, avoiding History had become a routine.

I knew exactly which paths to take across campus. I knew what time Elias’s class ended, and I made sure I was nowhere near that side of campus when students started pouring into the hallways.

It was pathetic.

I knew it.

But it worked.

Or at least I thought it did.

Until my phone vibrated during my Psychology lecture.

Academic Advising Office

Please report to Student Academic Services today before 2:00 p.m. regarding your current academic standing.

I read the message twice.

I ignored the message the other week but it looks like it wouldn't be possible anymore.

The advising office was in a quiet corner of the administration building.

The waiting room smelled faintly of coffee and printer paper. A few students sat scattered across the chairs, each wearing the same anxious expression.

I checked in at the front desk and took a seat.

Five minutes later, my name was called.

“Ms Winters?”

I stood and followed a middle-aged woman into her office.

She smiled politely as she gestured toward the chair opposite her desk.

“Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Mrs Alvarez, one of the academic counsellors.” She said as she smiled. “I promise this isn’t as frightening as students imagine.”

“I hope not.”

She opened a file on her computer.

“You’ve had a strong academic record so far this semester.”

My shoulders relaxed a little.

“However…”

There it was.

“…we’ve noticed a sudden change over the past two weeks.”

She turned the monitor slightly toward me.

Rows of numbers stared back at me.

Attendance.

Participation.

Assignment grades.

Missing submissions.

“You’ve missed several classes across different subjects,” she said gently. “Your participation has dropped significantly, and your recent grades are beginning to reflect that.”

I looked down at my hands.

“I know.”

“Is something happening outside of school?”

The question caught me off guard.

“No.”

It came out automatically.

She waited.

The silence stretched long enough for me to realise she didn’t believe me.

“I’ve just… been overwhelmed.”

“That happens.”

There wasn’t a hint of judgment in her voice.

“We’re not here to punish you, Candace. We want to make sure you don’t fall too far behind.”

I swallowed.

“I understand.”

She clicked through another page.

“Most of your lecturers have noted reduced engagement, but one course stands out.”

I didn’t need her to say it.

“History.”

The word settled between us.

“Your attendance there is currently the lowest.”

Of course it was.

It was the only class I’d completely abandoned.

Mrs Alvarez folded her hands on the desk.

“Based on university policy, you’re still in a position to recover your grade.”

Hope lit up inside me. “Really?”

“Yes.”

I sat up a little straighter.

“But you’ll need to act quickly.”

“I will.”

She nodded.

“Several lecturers are offering make-up opportunities or extra credit assignments for students who have fallen behind.”

I let out a slow breath.

Maybe this wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined.

She continued scrolling through the report.

“English has already closed theirs.”

My heart dipped slightly.

“Sociology isn’t offering one.”

Okay…

“Psychology’s is limited to students with documented absences.”

The hope shrank a little more.

She clicked once again.

Then stopped.

“It looks like…”

Her eyes scanned the screen.

“…History is currently the only course still offering an extra credit opportunity.”

Every muscle in my body stiffened.

No.

Please, no.

Mrs Alvarez looked back at me.

“You’ll need to speak with your History lecturer after class this week to discuss the assignment and your attendance.”

I stared at her.

The room suddenly felt warmer.

“I have to… meet with him?”

“Yes.”

She smiled reassuringly.

“Office hours or immediately after class should be fine.”

She had no idea.

No idea why those words felt impossible.

I cleared my throat.

“Is there… another option?”

“I’m afraid not.”

She frowned slightly.

“Unless you choose not to recover the marks, and extra credit isn't ideal in college,” she air-quoted her words as she spoke. “But…we’re doing what we can to help.”

I closed my eyes for the briefest second. That wasn’t a choice. History carried too many credit hours, so failing it would follow me far beyond this semester.

“I understand.”

Mrs Alvarez softened her tone.

“If you’re nervous because you’ve missed so many classes, don’t be.”

She mistook my silence for embarrassment.

“Your lecturer’s notes indicate that students who genuinely want to improve will be given the opportunity.”

My lecturer.

Elias.

The irony almost made me laugh.

Instead, I nodded.

“I’ll speak to him.”

“Good.”

She handed me a printed sheet listing the academic recovery requirements.

“I’d also encourage you to attend your remaining lectures. Missing any more will make this much harder.”

“I know.”

“And if something personal is affecting your studies, my door is always open.”

I managed a grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

The afternoon sun felt blinding as I stepped outside the administration building.

I stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the paper in my hands.

Academic Recovery Plan

The words blurred together.

I folded the paper and slipped it into my bag.

“Candyyyy!”

I looked up.

Bridgette was hurrying across the courtyard toward me.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“I just came from advising.”

Her smile faded. “Uh oh.” We started walking together toward the student centre.

“What happened?”

“They called me in because of my attendance.”

“I figured they would eventually.”

I sighed.

“My grades are slipping.”

She gave me a sideways glance.

“You know that’s not really surprising.”

“I know.”

“Candace…” She stopped walking. “I’ve tried to be patient because I know something’s wrong.”

I looked away.

“But you can’t keep disappearing every time you have History.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

“I know.”

“No.” She shook her head gently. “I don’t think you do.”

I frowned.

“You’ve been avoiding one class, and now it’s affecting every other class too.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“I can’t go back.”

“You have to.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I don’t know how.”

Bridgette’s expression softened.

“You don’t have to tell me why you’ve been acting like this.” She reached over and squeezed my arm. “But whatever happened…” She held my gaze. “…don’t let it ruin everything you’ve worked for.”

I felt tears sting my eyes.

“I don’t know if I can face him.”

The words escaped before I could stop them.

Bridgette blinked.

“Him?”

My heart skipped. “I mean…” I scrambled for another explanation. “…the lecturer.”

She studied me carefully.

“You’ll survive one conversation.”

If only she knew.

That evening, I spread my course outlines across my kitchen table. For the first time in weeks, I actually looked at what I’d missed.

Lecture notes.

Reading assignments.

Announcements.

Discussion posts.

A growing list of overdue work.

I opened the History portal last.

There it was.

A notice pinned to the top of the page.

Students seeking extra credit should speak with me after class this week.

No exceptions.

No alternatives.

No escape.

I leaned back in my chair and covered my face with both hands.

Returning to class meant seeing Elias again.

Speaking to him meant standing close enough to remember everything I’d spent nights trying to forget.

But staying away wasn’t an option anymore.

Not if I wanted to stay in university.

I reached for my planner.

With slow, reluctant hands, I wrote one sentence across Friday’s page.

Go to History. Stay after class.

I stared at the words for a long time.

Then, before I could change my mind, I closed the planner.

I had made my decision.

Now I just had to find the courage to keep it.