They don't play to win. They play to hurt.
Sterling Academy's irresistible reputation all came crashing down last year when a list of the 'top thirty girls too...' had been anonymously published.
Now recovering from the pits of hell the media dragge...
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I'VE BEEN FAILING math. Statement of the century, I know. But the thing is the statement isn't causing me any shame like it normally would. Sure, I hold myself to a pretty high standard when it comes to school but I'm looking out for the long run.
Plus, it was a pop quiz so it's practically nothing when in consideration for my GPA.
"I don't know what it is Valè, I expected better from you." It's currently Monday after school, I'm entranced in a conversation with the same math teacher I've had for the past three years at Sterling.
"I know, and I'm sorry Ms Shepard but it's been getting hard. I don't know what happened between last year and now." I admit, playing the genuinely stressed student card.
Ms Shepard looks up at me, internal conflict clear in the way her eyes scan my face. I don't know what it is she's currently thinking about but I feel bad for having to use her as well in this plan of mine.
"Look, the only way I can help you is by offering some spare time after class but..." My eyes flicker to her stomach — her very impregnated stomach. "And all the student tutors were snatched up during week one
. So that only leaves me with this one boy, and he's not the nicest but he's doing far better than anyone else in the school. Even the district."
"Ms Shepard, no offence but you're acting like he's going to tear me apart," I feign nervous laughter.
"Honey, that's because he is. And that's if you get him to tutor you."
"Who is it?" I ask, feeling my brows draw in confusion like I'd practiced in the mirror the day before.
"Caleb Delvaúx."
"No." I groan, feigning terror.
Bingo.
It didn't take quite long to notice what Caleb was excelling at. Everything about him was mathematical; the angles of his face, the way his manipulation worked wonders, and even the fact the school had his name all shiny on their website, claiming him a prodigy.
"B—But that's impossible. He'll never agree!" I begin, eyes widening and truth be told this is the most honest I've been in the past ten minutes. Getting Ms Shepard to reference Caleb is one thing, getting him to agree to tutor me is another.
"All the chances you do not take Valé..."
"Are missed opportunities," I finish off for her. "Ms Shepards, you've got to understand where I'm coming from here, Caleb doesn't even know who I am!"
"Of course he does, you're Valé Aster!" As if that means anything to him, I want to say but bite my tongue. "Valé, look, just go up to him and ask. If he says no, tell him it's a favour for Ms Shepards." She must read the incredulous look on my face because she continues. "Tell him she says that she knows about sophomore year."
