Tess hadn't been able to focus all day, but now, Isaac was far from her mind. Instead, the fear of her coming interaction with Ms. Keene was making her feel sick. She glanced around, hoping to see some sign that she wasn't alone in her torment, but of course there was no way to tell whether anyone else had been asked to stay back, too.

She was distracted throughout the entire class period. Anxiety about the coming conversation with her teacher gave her a stomach ache and stole any attention she may have had. When the bell finally rang, Tess felt it through her body like an electric shock.

The classroom emptied. Tess lingered at her desk, pretending to be organizing her backpack. When the last of her classmates had gone, she looked over her shoulder at Ms. Keene. The teacher appeared to be waiting for her; she was leaning against her desk, her arms crossed, but she was smiling.

"Do you take the bus, Tess?" she asked.

Tess shook her head. "My mom or my dad will be here to pick me up soon."

"All right. This will just take a minute. Let me get the door."

Tess sat back down at her desk. A closed-door conference with her new English teacher: this couldn't be a good sign. She looked down at the rough draft Ms. Keene had handed back to her and that ominous note in red ink. Tess: Please see me after class.

She couldn't be failing English, could she? It was only the start of the second week of school—but maybe Tess was capable of failing faster than any other student in human history.

Ms. Keene returned after shutting the door to the class room and sat in the desk next to Tess's. "You've got a lot on your plate, don't you, hon?"

Tess laid her paper on her desk. "This isn't my best, but I'll do better," she said.

"Forget the proposal for just a sec. It isn't the worst work I've seen. But I know you're a new student, and I hope you don't mind that I took a stroll down to Mrs. McMillan's office—" Mrs. McMillan was the guidance counselor— "and had a chat with her about you. No offense, Miss Morrison, but you don't strike me as the sort of student who would willingly take two English classes back-to-back, and you don't strike me as a person to whom such coursework comes easily, either. Am I wrong?"

Tess blushed and lowered her gaze.

"Thought so. Don't be embarrassed, Tess. Mrs. McMillan was forthcoming with the details of your schedule and what's at stake this year for you. I wouldn't meet like this with just any student. There are a lot of kids who just don't care if they pass English. But I don't think you're one of them. I think you want to graduate. Mrs. McMillan didn't share any details with me and frankly it's none of my business, but it sounds like last year was rough for you and you're doing your damnedest—oops, sorry—to make up for it this year."

Despite herself, Tess's lips quirked up at the corner. "Yeah. I am."

"And it's rough."

Letting her breath out in a sigh, Tess looked back up at Ms. Keene. In the woman's eyes, she saw sympathy and true kindness. "It is. It's just...it's just a lot."

"I've been there. I'm going to tell you something now that won't be fun to hear, and I'm going to make a request of you that I hope you will seriously consider."

Tess swallowed. She nodded her head. "Okay?"

"The rough draft you turned in is not good; it was rushed, and it was sloppy. If you had turned it in as a final draft, I would have to fail you. I'm hoping you'll take some of my advice and apply it. With the time that you have and your course load, I think you can bring it up to a C. But I get the sense from your glazed-over expression in Lit that, despite your best efforts, you're not much of a literature student either, and I'm afraid there are some reports coming up that will throw you for a loop, hon."

Humiliated, Tess looked down at her feet again. "I'm sorry."

"You aren't alone—other students in the class did pretty poorly on this assignment—but they don't have as much of my coursework ahead of them, and they don't have as much riding on their grades. I know that you're balancing a lot, but I have to hold you to the same standards I use for grading all my students—and I'm not an easy grader."

"I understand."

Ms. Keene laughed. "You take direct feedback remarkably well. Students have called me a witch for less; but you understand that the harder I am on you all right now, the more prepared you'll be for college, right? Your professors won't upend a bottle of red ink on your papers—they'll just make a few spare comments and expect you to figure it out. I'm sorry, I'm making an assumption—you want to go to college?"

Tess nodded her head, although she didn't know if that would be a dream she could pursue any more. Her parents wouldn't be able to afford to help her much, and without grades to scrape out a few scholarships, Tess didn't know how she'd manage.

"It's not my intention to make you feel crappy, Tess. It's my intention to be honest with you so that there are no surprises for you in my class. I hope you can understand that."

"I do." But Tess did feel crappy. She felt terrible, in fact. Her stomach was churning, and the only thing keeping her from tears of shame was the shock of the conversation. Nevertheless, she could recognize the kindness underlying Ms. Keene's directness; better to hear how she was doing now than to see it for the first time on a test or a report card.

"Now, for my request," Ms. Keene continued briskly. "I want you to meet with a tutor."

Tess sighed. She should have expected this. "I can't."

"You can't?"

"I don't have any study periods. Señora López gave me a flyer for the tutoring program, but she said they were available during study periods, and I don't have any. And besides, I don't want to make my parents pay for a tutor just because I'm..." She grasped for a word other than stupid. "Because I'm not doing well enough on my own."

Ms. Keene chuckled. "Oh, Tess. There's this weird stigma against getting help with school work from a tutor. It doesn't mean you can't do it. It means you need a little support. When I was in college, I had to take Statistics." She shuddered. "I pulled all-nighters trying to get my work done in that class, and sometimes I'd get so frustrated, I would cry. But you know what? I went to the math tutors they had on campus, and they helped me, and I wasn't ashamed then and I'm not ashamed now. You shouldn't be either. You still do the work on your own. You just have someone there to give you feedback and answer your questions."

"I mean...I guess, but I still think it's a lot of money for something—"

"It's free, hon. The tutoring program through Eagle Point is something we budget for. We're very serious about giving support to students who need it and who are willing to take the time to ask for it. Now, you don't have a study period, but I think I can help you out."

Tess tried not to show how relieved she was to hear that there would be no special cost for a tutor. She knew her parents paid fees for her education, even though it was a public school, and ever since their move, which Tess knew had been very costly for them, she'd been hypersensitive to how much money she cost her family; even the school supplies she needed had made her feel guilty. "Help me how?"

"I know a freshman at Tipton, the liberal arts college here in town. He was an Eagle—graduated last year—and he was an exceptional English student. I'm willing to give him a call and ask him if he's interested in taking on a part-time job with the tutoring program. He's probably got a full course load himself that keeps him busy during the day, so it may be more convenient for him to meet with you in the evenings or even on the weekends."

Tess twisted her hands together. "I don't want to be a bother to anyone."

"Let's let him tell us if it would be a bother. He's a nerd, Tess; I can assure you that tutoring would be more interesting to him than slinging burgers at the dining hall on campus, and one thing all college students have in common is that they need money. He'd be compensated for his time, and not by you. Besides, if he isn't interested, I'm sure I can find another tutor for you; I know one of the professors at Tipton. Sound fair?"

Starting to come around to the idea, Tess tilted her head, hesitant to outright agree. "You'd really do that for me, Ms. Keene?"

"I'd do it for any student who'd care enough to try, Tess. English might not be your passion, but it's important. I will fail you if I must, but I certainly prefer to pass you." Ms. Keene stood up and smiled, extending her hand. "Now, let me give Mr. Velasquez a call, and we'll see what he says, all right?"

Tess stood up and accepted her teacher's handshake. She felt awkward, confused, and relieved; the weird mix of emotions made her laugh. "Thanks."

"Have a good evening, Tess."

"You too, Ms. Keene." Tess gathered up her terrible research proposal and her notebook and headed out to meet her ride home.

The news hadn't been good. It had almost been the worst case scenario when it came to a conference with a teacher...but at least there was a path forward. And if Ms. Keene thought she was at risk of doing poorly if she didn't buckle down, Tess was at least glad that she knew so that she could focus every spare scrap of her energy on passing.