Page 6 of Campus Crush
You ever just… really suck at something and feel like it’s never gonna get better?
There was a longer pause this time, long enough that I thought maybe she wasn’t going to answer. Then her message popped up.
PeachyKeen:
Yeah. All the time.
But it usually does get better. Eventually. Especially when you let someone help you carry the weight.
I stared at her message until the words blurred.
I didn’t know how she always managed to say exactly the thing I needed to hear.
Maybe I didn’t deserve it.
Maybe she didn’t know what kind of failure she was really talking to.
BigBear88:
Thanks, Peach.
PeachyKeen:
Anytime, Bear.
I lingered there longer than I should have, fingers hovering over the keyboard, wanting to say more but not knowing how.
Finally, I logged off before I could make myself look even more pathetic.
Besides, I had somewhere I needed to be.
Her words had given me the strength and resolve I needed to face my shame.
Which meant I was off to the tutoring center because I was determined to pass this class, no matter what it took.
FOUR
The tutoring center was quiet as I walked in for my shift. I made my way to my favorite table, tucked in the back corner and partially hidden by a bookshelf. It wasn’t much, but the illusion of privacy seemed to help students feel more at ease. They were shielded from the worry of being overheard or judged for the areas they struggled with.
Despite the judgment-free signs posted around the center, it often took students time to relax. But the sooner they did, the quicker the breakthroughs came—which was why I was so attached to this spot. I wanted every student I worked with to leave feeling more confident than when they arrived.
Summer session wasmuchslower than fall or spring, which was why there were only three tutors working here now.
I didn’t mind.
During the school year, life moved so fast it was hard to catch my breath. Having a little extra downtime—and getting paid for it—felt like a small luxury.
I settled into my seat, pulled out my laptop, and slipped into the familiar comfort of my farm. Planting, harvesting, and tending to the quiet, steady world I’d built.
Bear wasn’t online, but I told myself it was fine. This part—the peace, the soft hum of the center around me—was enough. Even if I missed his chaos and commentary.
For ten minutes, I enjoyed my quiet solitude and the familiar comfort of my own little world.
Until movement caught my eye and I glanced up.
With a pop that I felt in my soul, my bubble burst and my calm evaporated.
Foster Kane walked into the tutoring center, and my heart stalled in my chest.
