Glamoured: A Modern Fairy Tale

4. A Good Grade is Hard to Find

Eleanor's stomach did backflips off the high dive while she watched Ms. Stevenson pass back the economics tests. She wouldn't be getting a gold star, that's for sure, but she at least was hoping to not get a big, fat F. When the paper was on her desk, Eleanor tentatively flipped it over as if expecting a wolf spider to jump onto her.

68—almost as bad. She frowned and turned the paper back over, not wanting to look at the abysmal grade again. It wasn't quite an F, but it sure as hell wasn't going to rescue her from C territory this semester. Her phone pinged, and she pulled it out of her bag and looked at the text message

Virginia: E! Coming home next weekend! Let's hang out!

Great. She'd have to face Virginia and the fact that she'd, you know, not been facing Virginia. What's wrong with me? she thought. Virginia was her best friend since kindergarten, and they'd stayed close for so many years, even as they both started to want different things in life. That was a bit of a lie: Virginia wanted things in life, and Eleanor started to drift.

Eleanor dropped her phone back into her bag and tried to pay attention as Ms. Stevenson went over the answers to the test—or all the ways she'd screwed up. There's always the final, she reminded herself and suppressed a groan. That's right—she had to pass that because there sure as hell wasn't anything else to keep her from failing this course.

After class, Eleanor tried to rush out of the room, but Ms. Stevenson said, "Did you get a tutor yet?"

Eleanor turned around, trying to force a lie through her lips. "Y—no," she said, her whole body deflating like a balloon being popped.

"You need a tutor or else you need to drop the class," Ms. Stevenson said, her tone suggesting those were the only options. Eleanor nodded and shuffled out of the room. She was sure that her mom was behind this, which caused a little cauldron of hate to start bubbling in her gut. She knew her and Ms. Stevenson were in the same book club together. Of course they talked. Her mom just couldn't let her be a grown up, could she?

Not that you're doing a great job at it, that niggling little voice told her. She stuffed it down and went into the cafeteria. It was raining outside today, so the courtyard wasn't a seating option. Brandon wasn't around, so Eleanor ate by herself and caught up on reading for her web design class. She wasn't going to fail this class, but she wasn't acing it, either. She hated the readings, so she never paid attention in class and did poorly on the written tests, but she got good grades on the projects themselves. There was hope there, anyway.

After lunch, she plodded to the academic advising offices, where someone would help set her up with a tutor for economics. She stood in line, waiting for the woman behind the desk to pay attention to her. The woman with a Jersey shore tan and French manicured nails looked up at her and, in a bored tone, asked, "Can I help you?"

She almost said no and walked away. Swallowing her pride, she said, "Yeah, I need an economics tutor."

"Let me see," the woman said, punching keys and clicking on the computer screen. "Hmm...I think Daniel Silverton's free. He's new, so he has time to take on late comers like you. Thursdays at five work for you?"

"Umm, can I get two days a week at least?" she asked.

The woman gave her a stare that went right through Eleanor like she was a ghost. "You'll have to discuss additional times with him. We provide one day a week tutoring. So, Thursdays at five?"

"Sure," Eleanor said, waiting just long enough to snag Daniel's contact info before bolting from the office. Away from that woman, Eleanor took a breath and gave David a text, letting her know that she was his tutoree tomorrow.