Catching Feelings | Bwwm

1| Nala

There were two things I prayed would never happen to me while I was in college. Getting drugged and finding myself naked in the bed of some total stranger was the first. I didn't drink or go to parties, but it was still scary to think about. Losing my financial aid was the second thing.

Out of state college was beyond expensive.

I was here on a scholarship, unlike most people in this state who were smart enough to stay close to home to save money.

I didn't have that luxury.

That's why I spent the last half of high school setting myself up to have a smooth transition from South Florida to California once I graduated. I had all the necessary paperwork and signatures to make sure that I wouldn't have get a loan during my first year.

2,000 dollars given.

But 15,000 was needed to cover classes and books.

I even applied to miscellaneous scholarships just to have extra money for a rainy day.

What I didn't plan for was the financial aid department not receiving the revised and updated information, because God forbid they actually have an effective system, or the fact that I would have an anal professor who failed me on our final research paper because it was too good. I had explain my sources to him once I saw the grade I received but he still didn't believe me.

"I don't know how you did it miss Henderson, but I find it hard to believe that a first time college student is able to write a paper of this stature. " Professor Hartley words intrudes my thoughts as I step onto the bus, out of breath after I ran across the school to catch it.

As angry as I was with my English professor, I had to admit his words were a bit of an ego boost. I wanted to be like him one day- not an arse of a professor who graded unfairly, but an English teacher, preferable in high school though. So even though I was beyond upset over my failing grade, at least I knew I was a good enough writer that someone who obtained a degree felt threatened by me. Grades were closed for the semester, so instead of pitching a fit I accepted my grade and made a note to never take Professor Hartley for any other classes in the future.

My final grade was acceptable but the lowest grade I've ever received for an English class. That "C" dropped my GPA just a smudge and now I was screwed.

Why am I paying for your education if you're just gonna fuck it up, is what I'm assuming my adviser really wanted to say to me when we talked.

But now I was regretting my small act of rebellion, because as I hurried out of the warmth of the city bus and back into the cold, wet afternoon, I had no idea how I was going to come up the rest of the money to continue to attend my expensive ass college and why did I go out of state?

Maybe because the idea of living with my parents for another 2-4 years was enough to make me go mental.

As much as I wanted cry and let the stress of where I was going to find that type of money settle, I couldn't afford to breakdown. Looking both ways before crossing the street, I hurry across and hope that I make it to work on time. The last thing I needed was to get fired. That would be the icing on an already crappy day.

Racing through the entrance reserved for staff members, I barrel through the double doors and crash right into something hard and wet.

Stumbling backwards, I flail my arms out wildly. My travelers bag slips off my shoulder, and my hair falls in front of my face. A cloud of dark curls obscures my vision as I try to stand my ground.

There's a crash sound, maybe broken glass and visions of scrapes, cuts, and blood enter my mind. Shit, this was going to be painful. I cried like a baby whenever I got a piece stuck in my foot as a child. I'd probably be a sobbing mess if broken glass was sticking in all kinds of places. And the wetness on the floor wasn't helping either. I was going down. There was no stopping it.