"I am going to fail this calculus test," I say as Genevieve, and I walk to calculus.

"I told you, you should've studied," she replies. She's right I would've been better off if I had stayed home last night and studied instead of attending the party. I wouldn't be about to fail my first calculus test right now and I definitely wouldn't have gotten into a fight with Liv over Zora and Marcus.

I am ashamed of my behavior from last night, I'm twenty years old and I didn't act like it. I still don't believe that Zora and Marcus didn't hook up, just knowing what kind of person Marcus is, but I shouldn't be mad at Zora. I'm sure she didn't know about Marcus and me. At least I hope anyways, because if she did know that's really shitty.

Genevieve and I walk into calculus, and I see Zora is already there reviewing her notes. I take a seat next to her and she doesn't even acknowledge my existence.

"Hey, I jus–" I start before she cut me off.

"Did you send in that picture of Marcus and I to the university gossip page?" She asks. What? What picture?

"What?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"I didn't stutter. A picture of Marcus and I on the UMV gossip page."

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't know what the fuck your problem is." I started to get angry. I don't know who Zora was accusing me of something I had no knowledge about.

"Whatever, Reya. Play stupid," Zora said and then she turned away from me. What the hell was she talking about?

"Listen I was just about to apologize for what I said last night but fuck that."

"Okay everyone. Time for our test, put all your materials away, all you will need is a pencil," Mrs. Hughes announced. I let out a sigh as I got out a pencil, already preparing myself for the F I am going to receive.

After our test Mrs. Hughes let us out early. Something about she had to take her dog to the vet and didn't feel like finishing class. I'm not complaining though I hate calculus and know I just failed that test. I wrote my name on my paper and then turned it in. I had no idea what I was doing, and I wasn't even going to try.

During high school the teachers would always say that professors weren't going to be as easy going as them and that couldn't be far from the truth. If I had a dollar for every time one of my professors canceled class only because they didn't want to teach, I would have enough money to afford an expensive meal at the Cheesecake Factory.

"How do you think you did?" Genevieve asked me as we walked out of calculus. My next class was a creative writing class that I signed up for just for fun. I have always had a love for writing and wish I had majored in journalism or something similar, but my parents wanted me to pursue a business degree. I never wanted to go to college to begin with, I just wanted to play hockey and that was it, but my parents had made me pursue a degree of some sort because "my future couldn't just be hockey".

A part of the reason I never wanted to go to college was because I have never liked school, mostly because I was never any good at it. In high school I would try to get good grades and the best I could ever do was a C+, once I got into college I stopped trying. I didn't see a point in trying at something that I wasn't good at.

When I was in middle school I got diagnosed with dyslexia, but I never got any help because my parents didn't want to believe there was actually something wrong with me. I sometimes wonder if I would be better at school if I had gotten the help I needed.

"Reya? Earth to Reya... Reya!" I hear Genevieve yell, knocking me out of my thoughts.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"Sorry," I say distantly.

"I asked you how you thought you did."

"Not well. You?"

"I think I passed. That's okay, Reya. We can study hard and together for the next one."

"Yeah," I say. I have never told anyone that I have dyslexia. I feel like it's embarrassing especially when I mess up the simplest words. I am twenty years old and often can't tell the difference between certain words. I think my dyslexia is a part of why I signed up for the creative writing class. I do have a passion for writing, but I wanted to prove to myself that my dyslexia doesn't define me and that I can actually read and write like everyone else.

"Okay class. To start off we are going to be writing a prompt. I'm trying something out to get your guys creative juices flowing. Today's prompt is 'Who Am I?" you will be writing about what makes you well you. You don't have to share with the class if you don't want to, but just know I will be reading them," My professor says. Her name is Miss Palmer, and she is kind of an oddball, but she makes writing exciting.

I open my notebook and think of what to write. Who am I?

Honestly, I don't know who I am.

I'm Reya Jones. I only care about my hockey career and that's all I know about myself.

"Your paper is blank," Miss Palmer says, knocking me out of my thoughts.

"Uh, yeah. I don't really know who I am," I say embarrassed.

"You don't know what makes you, you? What about your interests, or what would your friends say about you? What would your family say about you? What would you say about yourself?" She says and then she walks away.

I sigh and close my notebook. I put it in my backpack and leave the classroom feeling overwhelmed. I don't know who I am, and I don't know if I'm ready to figure that out.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

"Beautiful shot, Reya," Coach said to me during practice. My teammates come over to congratulate me and I feel proud of myself. The only one who didn't come over was Zora. I try not to let that bother me, but I can't help but wonder who sent the post into the gossip page.

Practice is over and Zora and I are the only two left in the locker rooms.

"For the record I didn't have sex with Marcus," Zora says.

"What?" I say. She didn't have sex with Marcus. The guy that everyone would kill to have one night with?

"You heard me. I didn't have sex with Marcus," she says and before I could say anything she walks out of the locker room.

I get up and debate whether or not I should go after her. I decide not to and just walk to my car instead.

"You did great tonight, Reya. I think you will have no problems becoming team captain," Coach says to me as we both walk into the parking lot. I smile at that. Maybe being captain will finally make my parents proud of me.

I get into my car and look at my phone to see a notification from Brightspace. My calculus grade. I sigh as I click on it and see that I got a 25/50 on my calculus quiz. Fuck. I click on the submission comments and see Mrs. Hughes's message.

Come see me before class in the morning. I will offer you a retake.

I close the message as I try to calm my breathing. Okay, okay. She's giving me a second chance I can't fuck this up.

"Calculus grades are in," Genevieve says to me when I walk in the door.

"I saw. I got a 25/50," I say as I sit my hockey bag down.

"What?"

"Yeah. She is offering me a retake before class tomorrow. Can you help me study?"

"Of course," Genevieve says as she pauses the show she is watching. She had skipped practice today to take her mom to a doctor's appointment. Her mom has been battling stage four cancer for the past few months.

I get my calculus notes out and she gets hers.

"Okay, so you remember learning derivatives in high school?"

"No," I say.

"Okay, so we will just start from the beginning then."

Genevieve explains derivatives to me and why we are learning about them as I just nod along even though I am lost and confused. I am so fucked.

I tell myself to breathe as I get ready earlier than usual to retake my calculus test. Genevieve stayed up until four in the morning to help me study and it is now six. I will definitely have to buy her a coffee or something for helping me, whether I pass or not. I still don't completely understand the material, but I feel like I understand enough to at least get a C which is passing.

"Thank you for this, Mrs. Hughes," I say when I arrive at the classroom and see her there waiting.

"Of course. If I'm being honest, I only offered you a retake because you are the only one who failed." Oh. Lovely.

"Either way. Thank you."

"Same rules as yesterday, and I will grade it before class so you will have your grade."

I nod as I take out a pencil and wait for her to hand me the test. Here goes nothing.

It was easier than the first one, so I feel good about it. I take a deep breath as I hand in the test and go back to sit down while I wait for her to grade it. I feel myself getting anxious while I watch her grade the test, so I decide to get some breakfast to distract myself.

I come back to the classroom and see she is no longer grading my test.

"You did better than the first time," Mrs. Hughes says and I can't help the smile that's forming on my face. "But you still failed. 29/50, 58%, still failing."

Shit.