Chapter Two
Cadence ‘Cady’ Mitchell
I was up bright and early this morning so that I could be the first person in the financial aid office.
I was a senior at Cannon Hills State University who was set to graduate in December, but the email I got yesterday said otherwise.
I still did not know what was going on. All I knew was that a hold had suddenly appeared on my account.
Nobody on the phone would explain anything beyond telling me to come into the financial aid office.
So, now I was sitting outside the financial aid office like a groupie waiting for her turn to get backstage.
I’d been waiting almost two hours when they finally opened the door.
As soon as I made it inside, I signed in and took a seat.
While I waited for them to call my name, I scrolled on social media and, as usual, Titan Samuels was in the headlines once again.
Apparently, he’s been sleeping with his teammate’s girlfriend.
“It’s always something with his ass,” I scoffed. “He’s too fine to be a hoe, but most hoes were fine,” I said to myself as I continued to scroll.
Fifteen minutes later, my name was finally being called, and I almost twisted my ankle trying to get up. When I made it to the office, I took a seat in front of the lady who literally held my future in her hands.
“Ms. Mitchell, thank you for coming in on such short notice,” she greeted as I took my seat.
“Yeah, well, your email sounded important,” I replied, shifting in the chair while trying to ignore how irritated I already felt. Nobody got called into financial aid office for good news.
The woman nodded once before clicking a few more things on the screen. “I wanted to meet with you regarding your account after a recent verification review tied to your financial aid package and program eligibility.”
“Okay... what does that mean?” I frowned.
“It means your file was selected during an institutional audit connected to federal aid requirements within the Physical Therapy program at Cannon Hills State.”
“Okay... and?” I countered because she wasn’t telling me what any of that meant.
She folded her hands neatly on the desk before looking directly at me. “During the review, it was discovered that portions of your previous aid package no longer qualify under updated enrollment requirements tied to prior semester adjustments.”
“The only adjustment I made was dropping one class because my clinical hours changed.”
“Yes, and because your enrollment status changed during that semester, the university was required to recalculate portions of your institutional aid retroactively.”
“Retroactively?” I repeated. “So y’all can just go back and change aid that was already approved?”
“In certain situations... yes.”
That answer pissed me off immediately. I leaned back in the chair slowly while she continued talking like she wasn’t casually ruining my entire fucking life.
“In addition to the recalculated aid, your account now reflects upcoming tuition balances, clinical placement fees, and program-related expenses for this semester.”
She turned the monitor toward me, and the second my eyes landed on the number attached to my account, my stomach damn near dropped into my ass.
Current Outstanding Balance: $27,436.18
“There’s no way that shit is right,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
“The current balance due is twenty-seven thousand four hundred thirty-six dollars and eighteen cents,” she recited like I couldn’t read the screen.
I looked at the screen again, like maybe the number would magically change if I looked hard enough.
“You’re telling me I owe almost thirty thousand dollars because I dropped one class?”
“The dropped course triggered the review process,” she explained calmly, “but the balance itself includes reversed grants, tuition recalculations, program fees, and upcoming clinical expenses.”
I let out a quiet laugh under my breath because what the hell else was I supposed to do? Cry in this lady’s office?
“I can’t pay that,” I admitted finally.
“At this time, your account has been placed on an academic financial hold until the balance is resolved or reduced through an approved appeal.”
“And if it doesn’t get resolved?”
“You would not be eligible for future registration, clinical placement, transcript release, or graduation clearance.”
Graduation.
Everything I’d spent the last few years killing myself for suddenly felt like a waste of fucking time.
“I’m a senior,” I said. “I’ve already finished most of my clinical rotations.”
“I understand that Ms. Mitchell.”
“No offense, but I don’t think you do,” I replied, rubbing my hand across my forehead. “I work, go to school, do clinicals, and barely sleep as it is. I don’t have twenty-seven thousand dollars just lying around.”
The woman slid a folder across the desk toward me. “The university does offer payment plans, private lender resources, and formal appeal opportunities.”
I looked down at the folder, but every option she named sounded like another gah damn bill I couldn’t afford to create.
“What’s the deadline?” I finally asked.
“The hold becomes permanent for the semester at the end of the month.”
That’s twenty-four days.
I grabbed the folder before standing from the chair on legs that suddenly didn’t feel as steady as they did when I walked in.
Because now instead of worrying about assignments, exams, and clinical hours, I had to figure out how the hell I was supposed to come up with twenty-seven thousand four hundred thirty-six dollars and eighteen cents before somebody at Cannon Hills State decided my future wasn’t worth waiting for anymore.
***
I didn’t even go to class today. What was the purpose?
I didn’t have these people’s money, and I didn’t know how I was going to get it.
I brought my ass right back home and got comfortable on my sofa, trying to figure out my next move.
I didn’t know where I was going to start, but I had to figure it out and soon.
It was too late to get a student loan, and I knew I didn’t have the credit to get one from the bank.
At least not that much at once. Frustrated, I threw my laptop to the side of me just as my phone was ringing.
“Yeah?” I huffed out.
“Damn, friend. What’s wrong?”
My best friend Janae was my person, so I knew she would know something was wrong with me. I just hated talking about the shit.
“What’s not wrong?” I mumbled.
“That’s not telling me shit. Matter fact... I’m on the way.” She didn’t even give me a chance to decline her company before she hung up in my face.
Instead of sulking, I got up and grabbed my laptop off of the floor and sat it on the coffee table as I got up and straightened up. My apartment wasn’t a mess, but I needed to do something to ease my mind.
Thirty minutes passed, and I heard Janae walking through my door. I was in the kitchen when she walked in, so I was the first thing she saw.
“Wassup, friend?” She sat her purse on the counter along with two bottles. “Is it a tequila or wine problem?” she asked. “Either way, get the glasses and let’s figure whatever this is out.”
This was why I loved her. She never asked questions or judged me. She was just ready to help me through and with whatever... no questions asked.
I retrieved two shot glasses and sat at the island and told Janae what I had going on. By the time I gave her the rundown, she was taking another shot, and so was I.
“Damn, bitch. I didn’t think it would be this bad,” she voiced.
“Shit, so how do you think I felt when they dropped this shit on me?” I took another shot.
“I’on know, but we’ll figure it out. Hell, we can set it off like Queen Latifah ‘nem if you want.” She gave me a look that let me know that she was dead ass serious and that alone caused me to double over in laughter.
“Bitch, with my luck, you’d run out like Tee Tee and leave me standing there looking stupid,” I cackled.
“At least you know, bitch. I might be about that life but not when it requires me to do five to ten. I’m too fine for prison, bitch,” she smirked before taking another shot.
“Shit... me too,” I countered. “I’ll figure it out, though. I always do.”
“Why won’t you ask your mama?”
“I can’t do that. She can barely make ends meet just for herself, so I know asking her to help me she’d try to go broke to figure it out.”
My mama was a medical office assistant, so she didn’t make that much money. She made enough to live comfortably, but not enough to have thirty thousand dollars lying around, and her credit was shit because all she did was max out her credit cards to pay the next one off.
“Don’t worry, friend. We’ll figure it out. Even if I have to put this pussy on the market, and you know I’ll get top dollar for it.” She smirked.
“Bitch, you’re dumb as fuck,” I laughed. “But I appreciate you, Nae.”
“Stop all that mushy shit. Let’s start coming up with a plan.”
I threw another shot back and went to get my laptop so we could come up with a plan... a solid one. Time was of the essence, and it wasn’t on my side, so I didn’t have time for sob stories. I needed to get this shit done.
***
a few days later...
I ended up going back to class today. I might as well go while they still have me in the system. I guess a few of my professors knew of my situation because they gave me sympathetic looks that I chose to ignore.
I had to go to work tonight, so I was in the process of getting ready.
I was a bottle girl at Stacks On Deck. Stacks was cool, and the job paid decent.
It afforded me to stay in a semi-luxury apartment but not enough to pay tuition.
Hell, I didn’t even drive a current car.
I owned a 2022 Nissan Altima that I bought cash with my first round of refund checks at a police auction.
I gave myself a once over in my full-length mirror that sat in the corner of my room and nodded. Grabbing my keys, phone and crossbody, I left my apartment and headed across town to work.