Page 121 of Outspoken

Miguel sees the best parts of me, so I’m fighting to see them, too. Though we’re going our separate ways, I still feel his love pushing me toward something better.

He loves me.

It’s an empowering feeling. It also makes me want to roll my eyes at myself for letting it get me so mushy inside.

Also, it’s painful.

Movement catches my eye and I glance down a corridor. The student that was in Mr. Williams’ office finally exits and walks away.

Time to do this.

Squaring my shoulders and adjusting Miguel’s jacket, I grab my backpack and march toward the office, my footsteps echoing. I tap lightly on the open tan door when I get there.

Mr. Williams is behind his desk, concentrating on his computer screen. Though his office is overwhelmed with the posters and art suffocating the walls, he completely commands the room. He’s poised, his dark beard and hair are perfectly groomed, and his salmon-colored blazer is a pastel pop of color that grabs attention.

He seems cheerful until he glances over, seeing that I’m the one who just walked in. His dark, moody eyes dismiss me as he turns back to his computer screen, adjusting his glasses.

“How can I help you, Miss Burgess?” he asks in a disinterested British monotone. “You haven’t been to class for weeks, so I’ll be failing you. I figured you understood that.”

I walk to his desk, slapping my last essay down in front of him. A ceramic cup of pens shakes.

“I donotdeserve this grade,” I say with force. He opens his mouth to respond, but I push forward. “And before you suggest that I didn’t study the textbook or that I should start with an even lower writing course, I gave this essay to another teacher here. She teaches Magazine Journalism and was kind enough to review my paper. She said it wasexcellent. Then she said she would easily give me an A.”

Mr. Williams sucks in breath to respond, but I don’t let him.

“Then,” I continue, “I found a second teacher because you seem like someone who demands lots of facts to back up statements. This teacher does advanced writing courses, and he also said he’d give me an A. He evenpraised mefor how well I connected my main points to the thesis, and he said he hopes I take one of his classes someday,andhe’d give me a recommendation to get in if I want to skip the pre-requisite course. So I’m not the dumb, awful writer you claim I am.”

Mr. Williams leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, staring down his nose at me through reflective lenses. “What another teacher thinks of your work is irrelevant. You’re in my class, so only my opinion matters. Your work hasn’t been satisfactory to my standards.”

I close the door forcefully, making a few frames on his office wall bounce, before returning to the desk to scowl at him. I stand tall, so he has to look up to meet my gaze. “Only my pussy was good enough for you?”

His eye twitches, but he remains emotionless. “This is inappropriate, Miss Burgess.”

I point at the picture on the wall of the strange circular ink painting. “I figured out our connection, so I know you’re OxfordComma84. I also know telling anyone about our connection won’t get me anywhere. The private chats happened before I was your student, and you’ll claim that it’s not your account or make up bullshit about how I’m a terrible student.”

I finally sit in a chair in front of his desk so we’re on the same level. Also, my legs were starting to shake from adrenaline. I rehearsed my next words a dozen times, and it’s both thrilling and nerve wracking to finally say them to his face.

“Look,” I say. “I don’t know why you’re holding such a grudge, but I’ve been trying so damn hard this semester and I don’t deserve this. I’m sorry if three years ago I treated you poorly or said mean comments in a private chat. I was fucked up, probably drunk and high on pills, and I’m sorry. I’m owning up to my mistakes, so don’t be this person. Don’t be the guy who has to punish a chick who rejected him. You’re probably not a bad person, but you’re sure acting shitty. This is your chance right now to fix it and be someone better. Everyone fucks up sometimes. What matters is fixing it.”

He stares at me a while, unblinking, as he works his jaw. I’m amped from my speech and ready to keep explaining myself, but I resist the urge. I said what I needed to, and I have the dignity not to beg. It’s his choice what person he wants to be, and if he refuses to give me an opportunity to pass his stupid class, I’ll start over once I re-pay the debt from losing my grant. I’m exhausted from starting over so many times, but the only other option is giving up.

Apparently, I’m not ready to do that.

He finally sighs and swivels his chair so he can focus solely on his computer screen.

I stand, prepared to walk out of here in defeat with my head held high, when he says in a low voice, “Leave the essay. I’ll check it again. If you bring me your previous papers, I’ll give them a second pass. You’ll need to catch up on missed assignments before the semester ends next week. You have a lot of work to do if you want to pass.”

Coming into this prepared, I yank my backpack open and pull out all of my previous essays and quizzes. I set them on his desk.

“Is that all?” he asks flatly.

“Yes.”

Neither of us says anything else and I leave. As soon as I’m outside the teacher’s building in the sunshine, a grin splits my face.Finally, I get a fucking win! God, it feels good. And I made it happen all on my own. No tears. No getting rescued by a hot guy. All me.

I whip out my phone. My first instinct is to text Miguel and thank him for giving me the nudge I needed. I also really just want to talk to him. But…I shouldn’t. No matter how much I miss him, the only way to mend this heartache is to force myself to move forward, even if it’s slowly in neutral.

My next urge is to text Paige about my victory, but I hesitate when I open our chat thread. She’s been so distant lately, not hanging out much and not coming over to visit Zoey. When we do hang out in person, she’s a little spacey, like her mind is elsewhere. When I ask if everything is okay, she nods and says she’s slammed with online orders and planning things with Brody.

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