Chapter 5
Five
West
The click of the mouse sending the email echoes in the quiet of my room. It’s a clean, efficient sound, a line cast. Now, I wait for the tug.
I don’t have to wait long.
Less than five minutes later a notification pings, a reply. I lean back in my desk chair, a slow smile pulling at my lips. I didn’t think she’d have it in her to respond so quickly. Interesting.
I open the email.
Mr. Monroe,
Thank you for the feedback. However, I will not be attending your review sessions. My performance in the class is already exemplary, as you noted. My time is better spent elsewhere.
Sincerely,
Kinsley Fischer
I read it twice. The tone is perfect. A crisp, professional ‘fuck you.’ No fear, no panic. Just pure, undiluted defiance.
A short, low laugh escapes my throat. The sound is rough in the silence.
Fire.
That’s the word for her. I saw it at the party.
She walked up to me like a soldier marching into enemy territory, all sharp angles and burning intensity.
She thought that kiss was her victory, her little act of rebellion.
She has no idea that all she did was light a match in a room I’d already soaked in gasoline.
She thinks this is a fight she can win with sharp words and by staying away. She believes she has territory to defend.
It’s cute.
Her file is still open on my second monitor. Kinsley Fischer. 19. Nursing. 4.0 GPA. A list of academic awards from high school that’s almost as long as mine. She’s not just smart; she’s a perfectionist. Her grades aren’t just a goal, they’re her identity. Her armor.
And she just handed me the key to it.
My performance in the class is already exemplary.
Is it? The diagnostic quiz was a simple recall, child’s play.
But the first major lab report is due in two weeks.
Organic chemistry nomenclature is a bitch without a guide.
The grading is subjective. It’s about clarity, precision, and the elegance of the argument.
Things a red pen can tear apart, line by line, while still being technically ‘fair.’
I won’t have to force her to come to me.
I’ll make her beg.
I pull up a blank document, the cursor blinking patiently. I start drafting the rubric for the first lab report. I create a new section: Clarity of Scientific Expression. The definition is vague, the point allocation high. It’s a beautiful, flexible weapon.
But that’s a long-term strategy. Her email requires a more immediate response—an answer to her defiance.
I log in to the Chem 102 online course portal. My TA privileges give me access to everything. Roster, grade book, announcements. I click ‘Create Announcement.’
My fingers move quickly, the plan forming as I type.
Subject: Update to Grading Policy - Engagement Quizzes
All Students,
After reviewing the results of the initial diagnostic, it’s clear that while many of you have a firm grasp of the foundational concepts, consistent engagement is key to success in a class of this difficulty. To encourage this, Dr. Albright has approved a minor amendment to the grading structure.
Five percent (5%) of your final grade will now be determined by a series of unannounced ‘Engagement Quizzes.’
These quizzes will be brief (1-2 questions) and will cover material from the most recent lecture. They will be administered randomly and ONLY during the Thursday evening review sessions. There will be no make-ups for missed quizzes.
The first review session is this Thursday at 6 PM in Dalton Hall, room 203. I recommend you attend.
West Monroe
TA, Chem 102
I read it over. It’s perfect, helpful, supportive. It’s a lie.
It’s a leash.
I can picture her reading it. The fury, the helplessness. The beautiful, beautiful trap. Her perfect 4.0 is now contingent on her attendance. On her being in the same room with me, a room of my choosing, at a time of my choosing. She can’t get a perfect score without me.
I hit ‘Post.’ The announcement goes live.
Let her have her small victory with the email. Let her think she’s in control.
I just took control of the one thing she can’t stand to lose, her perfect record.
I look back at her email one last time. Sincerely, Kinsley Fischer.
No, not Fischer.
Kinsley.
Mine.