#MeantToBe Read online

  "Brooke?"

  I turned around. It was the TA.

  "Yes?" I asked, wondering if he’d seen me on my phone earlier.

  He came up to me. "This is the third quiz you have failed in this class. Is that right?"

  Hardly able to meet his eyes, I nodded. “That’s right.”

  Embarrassment morphed into annoyance, and I wasn’t sure why. I’d never been the kind of person to get all A’s or anything, but I didn't usually fail my classes either.

  It also wasn’t easy paying this semester's tuition, and knowing I was failing this class made my stomach sink.

  The TA went on. “Have you gone to the study sessions? On Tuesdays, 4 o'clock?" he asked.

  I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “Yeah, I came to a couple, but to be honest, I'm still struggling,” I replied.

  I didn’t want to be rude or anything, but I hoped he understood that it wasn’t just the material I was struggling with but also how fast he flew threw the lessons.

  He sighed.

  “I think I'm just gonna drop the class, and maybe I can take it again next semester,” I said, ready to leave. I had another class to get to.

  But he wasn’t done yet. "Have you tried the tutoring at the student center?"

  “Uh, no,” I said, not sure what he was talking about.

  He made his way over to his desk and grabbed a small pamphlet. He walked back and handed it to me.

  I read through it quickly as he explained, "I know this class is pretty fast-paced, but you can still pass if you try.” He crossed his arms. “I’ll tell you what. Try the student tutoring, see how it goes for you. If it goes well and you decide to stay in the class, I will allow you to retake your quizzes.”

  I looked up at him, surprised. "You’d let me do retakes?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yes. I rarely allow them. But I think if you try you can succeed in my class. So I will make an exception for you. I'll let you retake the quizzes on one condition." He held up a single finger.

  "What's that?" I asked.

  “Whatever grade you get on those quizzes will be your final grade. I will not do what high school teachers do and only replace the grade if the new one is higher. This is college,” he said. “So if you think you can do it, let me know. Otherwise, I wish you luck in the rest of your classes."

  And with that, he went back to his desk.

  "Thanks,” I said, holding up the pamphlet as I turned to go.

  He gave me a small nod, but he was already grading papers at his desk.

  Still thinking about what he’d said, I marched down the hallway, tucking the pamphlet away into my backpack. I needed to hurry, or I was going to be late for my next class.

  Outside, I managed to get on the bus just before it left. After I found a seat, I pulled out my phone again.

  There were a few more messages from Ethan. He got kind of annoyed if I didn’t text him back right away. So I went ahead and let him know I was on my way to my second class for the day. And that I’d failed another calculus quiz.

  Ethan: That sucks.

  Ethan: Pick you up at your dorm later.

  Brooke: Okay.

  When I got to my next class, I got out that pamphlet again. They had math tutoring this afternoon, and it was at the student center.

  I wasn’t sure if I should go or just drop the class after all. Biting my lip, I wondered if I’d be able to re-take these quizzes within a few weeks and pass them. Maybe it would just be easier to drop the class and take it again next semester.

  But something told me I had to at least give this tutoring thing a try.

  So right then and there, I decided to go.

  If it was clear that one of the tutors there couldn’t help me pass the class in time, then I’d have no choice but to drop the class and figure something out next semester.

  But the truth was I’d have to pass it sooner or later.

  Tutoring it was.

  Three

  I grabbed my backpack and put it back on. Then I closed the history book sitting on my desk.

  The sound boomed throughout our tiny dorm.

  My roommate, Tommy, blinked his eyes open, still in bed. “Hey man, you’re heading out already? Didn’t you just get here?” he asked with a laugh.

  Was it me or did Tommy never crack open a book?

  I glanced back at him. “Yeah man, but tuition isn’t gonna pay itself, you know. We don’t all have rich parents like you.” I was joking, but he threw one of his slippers at me anyway. He smiled and rolled over.

  Tommy had it pretty good, but I wasn’t that lucky.

  My parents had gotten divorced a few years back.

  They already hadn’t been in a great financial place, and the divorce only made everything worse. Six months ago, they had straight up told me that they wouldn’t have much to help me with when it came to tuition this year, so the first thing I did as soon as I found out I was accepted here was apply for a work-study.

  I left our dorm and walked down the couple flights of stairs quickly. One of the buses that ran to the tutoring center passed by our building every seven minutes or so.

  But if I didn’t catch one in the next few minutes, I’d be late. And the Ph.D student who was in charge of the program always made this annoyed face if I was even two minutes late.

  So I headed outside and waited on the bench for the next bus. Not too long after, one came roaring up the hill like an old tired animal. I stood up as it approached, and then I got in and found a seat. I was at the tutoring center in no time.

  I glanced at my watch as I walked into the large room full of tables, smiling at Matt because I was a whole two whole minutes early. So he couldn’t make his face at me today.

  Maybe tomorrow.

  He hardly looked up. “It’s just you, me, and Heather until eleven o’clock tonight,” he said by way of greeting.

  Matt was a few years older than us, with facial hair making him look more like a grizzly bear than a student.

  He was supposed to be a tutor too, but he always ended up working on his dissertation instead while the rest of us tutored anyone who came in. If we got swamped, then and only then would he help out, but usually, he liked to stay in his corner.

  I set my stuff done on one of the tables near the entrance and got out some homework, hoping I could go straight to bed as soon as I got back to my dorm later.

  But a short while into reading and taking notes, a voice nearby brought me back to the real world.

  This girl with long caramel brown hair stood in front of me. My mouth fell open like an idiot as I took in her olive green eyes and full lips.

  She looked around briefly and said, “Are you one of the tutors?”

  I started putting my stuff away. “Uh, yeah. Take a seat.” I said, nodding at one of the chairs beside me.

  “Thanks,” she said, not sounding very excited to be there.

  Neither was I, to be honest. I preferred hanging out in my dorm or the library, working on my assignments rather than helping other people figure out basic math, but I needed the money and I was good at it.

  My mom sometimes asked me why I didn’t become a teacher or something, maybe a college professor, but I always reminded her I didn’t know what kind of career I’d end up choosing.

  “So, what can I help you with?” I asked.

  She took out a folder from her backpack and laid out three math quizzes on the table.

  “Calculus?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I hate it. The TA gave me a chance to retake the these quizzes, but if I don’t pass them, I’ll have to drop the class. I haven’t passed a single quiz since the semester started, actually.”

  She wouldn’t meet my eyes as she said it, and I could tell she was kind of embarrassed to admit it.

  I grabbed the quizzes and looked them over. I glanced back up at her. She sat there, obviously anxious and waiting for me to say something. “So do you think you can help me?” she asked.

  I smiled. “Oh yeah
, this is pretty easy stuff. Just the basics.” I paused, knowing I should rip off the bandaid sooner rather than later. “You know you’re just getting started, though, right? No offense, but if you’re having trouble with this stuff, you may have trouble with the rest of the class.” I said, watching her.

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You have got to be kidding me. It’s only been a month, and I hate this class already. But I have to take it because of my major.”

  “What are you majoring in?” I asked as I grabbed a pencil from my backpack.

  She continued staring at the table. “Child psychology, but I swear if I can’t pass this calculus class, I’ll have to change it to something else.”

  “Maybe you should become an elementary school teacher instead,” I teased.

  She scoffed a little but smiled. It was a really nice smile too.

  We finally got to work, and I taught her how to solve the problems on the first quiz.

  I had actually learned this stuff a couple of years ago. Ever since eleventh grade, I had doubled up on math each year. For fun.

  We worked through several problems, and I could see she was starting to get it, but she kept forgetting to do some important steps.

  “Yeah, don’t forget to divide,” I said, pointing to the paper.

  She erased her work almost violently and started over.

  I barely stifled a laugh.

  We’d been at this for a couple of hours now. I glanced at my watch. She noticed what I was doing and looked around. Heather and Matt were also busy tutoring people, but otherwise, it was pretty quiet.

  She turned back to me. “I’m not…hogging you, am I? What time are you supposed to leave?” she asked.

  “I’m all yours,” I replied, and right away, the moment turned awkward.

  I thought she might say something, but instead, she went back to the math problems.

  Hoping she didn’t get the wrong idea, I went on. “I mean I’m here until ten-thirty. So we still have a little time left.”

  A low buzzing reached my ears. It had to be her phone, but despite it going off a few times, she hadn’t gotten it out once while we’d been working.

  She reached into her pocket and silenced it.

  After she worked and re-worked every single problem on the first quiz without fail, she finally put the pencil down with an exhale.

  Then she seemed to remember something. “Oh my gosh, what time is it?” She took out her phone. “It’s ten o’clock already?”

  She muttered something else, looking kind of anxious. “Are you late for something?” I asked.

  Grabbing her stuff, she said, “My boyfriend was supposed to pick me up, actually. And I forgot to tell him I was coming here. I’m so dumb. How did I not remember to tell him that I’d be here, not back at my dorm?”

  Her sudden worry and self-doubt threw me off, and I sat there in disbelief for a moment. “I’m sure he’ll understand,” I finally managed.

  She zipped up her backpack and stood up. “I need to go. Thanks for the help,” she said quickly with the flash of a smile.

  I stood up too. “No problem. Anytime, uh…” That’s when I realized I didn’t even know her name.

  But she was already halfway to the exit. “Brooklyn,” she called over her shoulder.

  She walked through the double doors into the night, and I stared after her for a few seconds.

  “Adam,” I replied, but she was long gone.

  I glanced around. Heather was gone, had probably already left for the night, and Matt was back at his corner, working on his dissertation again.

  Checking the time on my phone, I noticed it was time for me to head home too. I gathered up my stuff thinking about the warm shower I’d take before bed. I had to be up early again for class the next day.

  Then my stomach sank as I remembered the paper that was due for lit class at midnight. And I was far from finished with it.

  Goodbye, eight hours of sleep.

  Nothing like the fire of a deadline under your butt to turn an assignment in on time.

  A few seconds later, I said bye to Matt, who gave me a low grunt in response, and walked out the double doors myself.

  The bus stop was right outside. They didn’t run often this late at night, but hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long of a wait.

  Right away, though, I heard something besides the usual sounds of passing cars or buses here and there.

  I heard somebody shouting, and right away, I recognized the voice.

  Brooklyn.

  Four

  “Oh my God, Ethan. I can’t even believe you right now,” I said.

  I was just glad we were alone out there with no one else to watch. I hated when we fought in public.

  I mean it wasn’t really fighting. Just arguing. But Ethan never seemed to know when to stop or at least put it on hold until we were alone. People usually pegged us as that crazy couple, always on a rollercoaster of ups and downs, but I also couldn’t imagine being with anybody else.

  Ethan fumed. “What, do you expect me to just sit back and wait for you until you’re finally ready? And tell me wherever you are? Yeah, let me tell you. I really want to do that. You tell me to pick you up. I come to pick you up, and you’re not there. How do you want me to be right now, Brooklyn?” Ethan demanded.

  But he didn’t really want to know. He was just trying to drive home his point. And that point was that he was angry at me.

  I blinked back at him. “I told you. I’m sorry, Ethan. What more do you want from me?”

  As soon as I said it, I heard someone come up behind us. We weren’t too far from the bus stop, and someone had just walked up and sat on the bench.

  It was kind of dark, so I didn’t recognize him right away.

  Oh no. It was the math tutor from before.

  I tried to pretend I hadn’t been looking at him, but Ethan had already noticed. He seemed to notice everything, even things that didn’t actually happen.

  Especially things that didn’t actually happen.

  Ethan turned to me. “What? You know him or something?” he asked.

  I stuttered. “No, I mean, yeah. He’s my math tutor. But I swear I just met him,” I tried to explained quietly, hoping the math tutor—whatever his name was—didn’t overhear. That would be really embarrassing. I wondered how much he’d heard already.

  Ethan stood at his car, with me just a few steps in front of him.

  “Can we just go, please?” I begged.

  “Well, if I find out he he came onto you or something—“ he began.

  I took his hand. “Ethan, let’s just go, okay?”

  But he was still staring at him over there on the bench, and now I was annoyed.

  Why did I always have to beg him to just stop? Why was he always so angry lately? It was driving me nuts. “Can we just stop this for once? I just want to go home,” I said.

  Ethan finally looked at me. “I thought we were going back to my place.”

  I sighed, exasperated. But my hands fell by my side. “I don’t care. Sure, let’s just go.”

  “You know what, Brooklyn?” he said. “It doesn’t really sound like you want to be with me right now. So you know what? Maybe you should just go home.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, but he was already getting it in his car.

  I couldn’t believe this. Was this really happening right now?

  I tried to follow him, but it was useless. “Ethan, are you seriously leaving me here?” It was almost eleven o’clock at night, and he expected me to just walk back to my dorm? “Even this is a new low for you, Ethan,” I spat out, hating that I could hear the tears in my voice.

  But I wasn’t sure if he heard that or not because he put his car in drive and sped off.

  I stared after him, wishing he would crash his nice car into something. Nothing serious. Just enough to mess up his car and teach him a lesson.

  What was it about him lately? He kept treating me like he was doing me a huge
favor by being with me.

  I thought about that as I walked back to the bus stop.

  But the truth was I did kind of need Ethan. He had a car, and I didn’t. He drove me places when I needed it. But that’s not why I’d become his girlfriend. He’d always offered me rides. Except now he chose to be a jerk about it.

  I took a seat on the bench in front of the bus stop, not far from the guy who’d just been tutoring me. I gave him a quick glance out of the corner of my eye. He was on his phone, but he gave me the same glance. I bit my lip and looked down, determined not to let him see how much this hurt.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt more mortified and humiliated and angry, and I just hated Ethan so much in that moment. What had happened to the nice guy I used to know?

  “I’m guessing that was your boyfriend?” I heard.

  So he had overheard. Ugh.

  I nodded. “Any idea when the next bus will be here?” I asked.

  He put away his phone.“Well, they only run every fifteen minutes at this time of night. Where are you heading to?”

  “Newman Hall,” I said.

  “That’s not far from my dorm. I think you need to get on the same bus as me. The O bus,” he replied.

  I sat there, not saying anything, still upset. Instead, I gave him a quick nod.

  “Shouldn’t be much longer now, I think,” he said a minute later, but after that, he didn’t say anything else.

  I focused on controlling my breathing and trying not to cry. If that guy hadn’t been been there, I would have already been crying my eyes out.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, breaking the silence between us.

  I nodded again, not wanting to talk. Especially to some guy I’d just met and whose name I didn’t even know.

  We heard the rumble of a bus and then saw its lights come around the corner. We stood up as it reached us and came to stop with a screech.

  He let me get on first. I found a seat in the back and almost sighed in relief when he sat in the very front row and left me alone.

  On the way home, my mind went back to the calculus quizzes I needed to take during the next few weeks, but I was already starting to forget how to work those problems out.