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"HERE," IMOGEN ARROYO CALLED, a few days later on the Wednesday afternoon, throwing her distraught friend an energy bar. "You'll need energy in hell."
Lucy frowned at the bar, anxiety curling in her chest. "Thanks, Im."
"Just chill, Luce. Mr. Winston is cool," Imogen said, offering minimal comfort. The girl couldn't comprehend why her friend dreaded her next class, and frankly thought she was being rather melodramatic.
"Yeah," Lucy replied nervously, anxious energy spiking as she ripped open the wrapper and took a large bit of the chocolate confection. "Yeah. I'll be okay. See you at lunch?"
"Cool." Imogen shrugged, shooting her friend a cheeky smile as she backed away.
Lucy sucked in a deep breath as the bell sounded around her, swallowing the last of the energy bar. Feeling sick to her stomach, the junior apprehensively clutched her books tighter to her chest, and hesitantly approached her classroom.
Just as she expected, the second she entered the classroom, a stern-faced Mr. Winston herded her to his desk. Lucy could guess from his passively neutral expression exactly what their discussion would be about.
"Miss Richardson," He greeted, peering up at her from his desk. Lucy desperately tried to avoid his gaze, instead watching as more of her peers slowly filed into the room. Resigned anticipation and dread fermented in her chest. "I would just like to quickly discuss last week's test with you."
Lucy visibly deflated. "I failed."
There was silence for a moment. "Unfortunately, yes." Mr. Winston informed her, studying her closely.
The teenager exhaled a disappointed sigh, feeling heavily beaten down. A pulsating headache throbbed in her temples. "Damn."
"I can see how hard you're working, Miss Richardson. Don't be disheartened," The teacher said, eyes scrutinising. "I will be allowing you to retake the test on Friday."
"Yes sir," Lucy muttered, head down and frown prominent. "Thank you."
Noticing most of the class had taken their seats, the junior dejectedly made her way to her designated desk in the corner. Her lips pursed as she tried to compose herself, tried to regain her focus, and she slowly unpacked her notebook and pens.
She had tried so hard on that test.
Hours were spent agonising over questions, laboriously studying, and she still couldn't pass. Was she too far behind? What was she doing wrong? Why couldn't she understand it?
So caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice as the desk beside hers became occupied. Lucy flipped open her notebook, expression sullen as she bitterly criticized her pages of work.
