Page 28 of Fighting Spirit

“I’ll catch you later,” Clara whispers. “Let me know if you ever want to study together.”

“Yeah?”

“For sure, I want to hear more about this guy.”

The throat clearing over my shoulder has me snatching up my bag, giving Clara a parting smile as I follow Professor Melville into the room.

We settle into seats on either side of the desk, her attention on the paperwork in front of her. “I’ll keep this brief. I have other students waiting to see me.”

Wasn’t she the one who asked me here?

“I’m sure it won’t come as any shock to you, but as things currently stand, you’re set to fail my class.”

My stomach twists. I knew things were bad, but failing? “I know I’ve missed things, but I can make it up if-”

“We’re rather beyond that.”

The twist becomes a stab. “But I can-”

“Ruth, I don’t know if you realize the gravity of the situation.” She temples her fingers, resting her forearms on her desk. “The way things are going, you’re not going to hit the minimum requirement for this course. I need you to take a long look at yourself and what you want because if things don’t turn around, then we’re going to be having a very different conversation.”

“What kind?” It’s hardly more than a whisper.

“Well, firstly, the school would need to review whether or not you’re academically eligible for your extracurriculars.” My heart plummets and by her face, she knows the exact conclusion I’ve come to.

I might not get to be the mascot anymore.

“What can I do?”

Her lips tip up at the edge, like she’s been waiting for me to ask. She reaches into the drawer next to her and with a flourish, a single sheet of paper emerges.

“I’ve outlined three extra credit assignments. This’ll help you catch up on what you’ve missed. If you get those done, on top of anotableextra commitment in class, we can re-evaluate.”

I stare down at the list, the words blurring together as my head spins. I just about hear myself being dismissed and I stumble out of the room on shaky legs.

I know she’s trying to help; this is more of a chance than I probably deserve. But when I look down at what she’s given me I just feel so overwhelmed. Like I’m being buried by everything I need to get done, and the only thing that feels right is crawling into my room and hiding under the covers.

Things would probably be easier if I came clean and asked for help. As soon as I think of it all I can remember is the day in my first semester when I first reached out to academic support. I’d tried to get a meeting set up with a counsellor but after five minutes looking at the forms, all the hoops I would have to jump through, I couldn’t bring myself to start. I’d felt so tired, sohollowed out at the prospect, it was easier just to try and handle things myself.

Chapter Eleven

RUTH

Peeling off the damp fabric clinging to me might be the best feeling in the world. I have to stifle a moan as the cold air prickles my skin, chasing away the clamminess that’s been invading my senses for the last four hours. Stumbling into the shower, I sigh as the cold water hits me. These showers take forever to heat up, but today I’m thankful for the way it clears my brain and eases some of the fatigue. I rest my head against the tile, it’s probably filthy, but my neck muscles have completely checked out, so I’m just going to try not to think about it.

I’ve always had trouble winding down after games. In my first season as Gunther, I used to lie awake at night, the adrenaline slowly filtering out of my system as I ran through every moment of the day, picking apart my performance. I’ve gotten better at letting things go and now I let my mind go blank, scanning my body from head to toe and slowly easing the tension out of each muscle. I relax my shoulders, shake out my elbows and wrists, and unclench my stomach and thighs until I’m practically boneless against the cubicle wall. We may not have won the game, but I did a damn good job.

It was a tough crowd out there, Allbreck were down by ten at halftime and the referee made some harsh calls against us. It’shard to make people care about a toad doing gymnastics when they’re watching their championship hopes teeter in front of them.

I turn the water off and step out, pausing to make sure the changing room is empty before I cross to my gym bag and dig around inside for my hair stuff. My hands knock against my phone and the screen wakes up, Rowan’s name appearing.

I’m hit with a bolt of nerves. I haven’t spoken to him since I finally plucked up the courage to talk to the school admin about what happened. Despite Clara’s offer, I decided to go it alone and talked to the dean last week. He was surprisingly great about it and promised to get in touch with Beaufort to have it dealt with. I don’t know what ‘dealing with it’ looks like, but if Rowan’s still texting me, then he can’t have been expelled or anything.

ROWAN

your team sucks, but you make a pretty great frog.

I laugh as I sit down on the bench, not caring where I’m dripping water.

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