American Sweethearts

46

Guys!!!! We made it to20k!!! My little heart is so full. I can't thank you guys enough. 

This chapter is pretty small so I'm uploading 2!

Love, love, love, love, love you to bits.

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I approach my professor's desk, waiting for her to finish up with the student in line before me. Class just ended, and I'm not the only one with questions.

"Yes, you have to submit an online copy of your sheet music through the link I provided," Professor McDougal explains.

"We can't write it out and scan it in?" the student asks.

"Nope," she shakes her head. "No PDF, no images, no word documents. It has to be submitted through the link."

"Alright," he nods. "I'll work on it."

"If you have any trouble with it, you can email me."

"Thank you."

The Professor turns to me, urging me to speak. I smile politely at her, but I can tell she just wants me to hurry up.

"Hi," I say. "I was just wondering if I could speak to you about the grade I received for my last assessment."

"What was your name?" she asks.

"Sarah Stone."

"Piano?"

"Yes," I nod. "You gave me a C."

"Ah, right," she hesitates. "You were on the edge of a C-."

"I was?" I scowl. And I thought my C was bad.

"Your piece was sloppy at best. It was amateur."

Ouch.

"Oh."

"It's nothing to worry about," she shrugs. "It was your first college task. You'll get better."

"Is there anywhere I can go for help?" I ask. "I didn't expect such a bad grade."

"No one does. This isn't high school anymore I'm not here to produce mediocre musicians. I'm here to prepare you for an orchestra."

"But I didn't-."

"I'm sorry, Miss Stone," she cuts me off. "If you aren't prepared to put in the effort, I can't help you."

I stop my mouth from dropping the floor. I'm offended by her words. I put all my effort into that test. I knew it was theory, which is my weak point, so I studied.

But a C in music and an A in biology? If anything, I put more effort into the music test than the biology one.

"Thanks for your help," I say, but it's a big stinking lie. Hopefully, there's a more supportive music teacher on the faculty that can help me.

I walk out of the building, letting the sun hit my face. At least it's warm today. Good weather always makes me feel better.

I walk towards the Student Support building. I'm dying for a chat with Margaret. I never should've skipped support group last week. I feel like I've got two weeks worth of drama waiting to come out, but the group isn't until Thursday. I've got so much to talk about.

Between my classes, and Tyler, my head has been buzzing non-stop. And that doesn't even include all the conversations I've had with Lena about her new-found sexuality. We were basically up all night talking about her date with Steph. I'm happy for her, but it doesn't help reduce the tension in my head.

I get overwhelmed far too quickly. My therapist used to tell me it's because my past trauma takes up so much space in my brain, and uses so much energy, that it leaves little room for anything else.

When I had a therapist, it was great. I could unload everything from my brain on her, and let it exist out in the open instead of in my head. It made me feel like there was a distance between me and my stress. But now, I'm just... stuck.

That's why I need Margaret right now. I've never seen her individually before, but it's time.

I enter the building, but Student Services are on the second floor. I've been there a few times before, but it's still fairly new to me. I walk up the stairs, dodging the groups of students heading in the opposite direction. It isn't until I reach the final steps, that I see someone I wish I didn't.

In fact, I wish he wasn't alive at all.

Christian.

He's heading down the steps, but he pauses when he sees me. I speed up, completely ignoring him. He grabs my wrist, forcing me to look at him.

"Don't touch me!" I exclaim, pulling myself free.

He scoffs. "You're such a fucking bitch, do you know that?"

"Leave me alone," I say, continuing up the stairs.

"I know what you did!" he calls. "You sent your little boyfriend to fuck up my car!"

I ignore his words, hurrying through the hallway. I duck into the women's bathroom, knowing he won't be able to reach me in there. There are a few other girls in here. They turn to look at me, but I don't care. I just wanted to get away from that asshole as soon as possible.

"Are you okay?" one of them asks. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

"Yeah," I nod. "I'm fine."

I try to calm my racing heart, counting my breaths as they come and go.

Don't have a panic attack, Sarah. Don't let him get to you.

Today is such a strange day already. I woke up with a pounding headache, and my thigh was bleeding. No one was home to give me a lift to class, so I had to catch the bus. Of course, I had to bump into Christian, just to make it worse.

Is the universe trying to send me a message? Is my period coming? This has to be some kind of warning.

I walk into one of the stalls, locking the door behind me. My anxiety is pretty high, but I'm not panicking. Hopefully, this is my medication at work.

I lift my skirt up, eyeing the marks on my thigh. I put a bandaid over the area that was bleeding, but the redness spreads much wider. It barely ever bleeds anymore. I must've scratched it too much. The skin there is so sensitive from the burn, when I scratch it... it just reminds me that I'm alive.

I take a seat on the toilet, calming myself down. There are a few sheets of paper plastered on the back of the door. I read them over, trying to distract myself. There's an ad for a maths tutor, and one for a computer class. There's also a flyer for a book club. There's a group of people on the cover, holding up a sign with their logo. The flyer has an email address and a phone number on it, for those interested to contact the club.

It gives me a fantastic idea.

That's how I can find girls to help me take down Christian and his stupid frat.

I can make posters and stick them up on the bathroom doors. I'll have to make it pretty discreet, but they can say something like 'Have you ever been hurt by Sigma Pi whatever? Or any other frat? Email me here'.

Okay, maybe I can be a little more informative. I could give some background information about sexual assaults on campus, and student safety in general.

This could definitely work.

With the idea in mind, I walk out of the bathroom, feeling much better. I can handle this.

I'm going to take Christian and his shitty frat down.