Destiny’s a Bitch #2
To their surprise—and annoyance—Dex was one of the first ones to finish.
Cya was barely halfway through when they caught the Lupyn flipping over his packet and setting his pencil aside.
He drummed a discordant rhythm on his desk as he looked around, eventually catching Cya staring at him.
He grinned, and they turned away immediately, refocusing on their own exam.
It was no easy feat. Not only was Dex’s fidgeting distracting, but Cya had never been good at math.
They excelled at nearly every subject in school, except for mathematics.
For some reason, numbers just didn’t make sense to them.
They understood biology, chemical reactions, grammar and syntax, and foreign languages.
Music, poetry, and even art came easily.
But numbers? Algorithms and calculations and formulas? They all resided in a black hole in Cya’s brain that left them frozen in panic, terrified that others would witness them choking.
They barely even finished the practice exam before Professor Myls called the class to order and started going through the answers.
Silently fuming, Cya watched Dex check off his correct answers, one after another, as they covertly marked their own answers wrong.
How in the deities was this absolute himbo of a man so good at math?
In an even worse temper now, Cya fought to pay attention as the professor took questions and went over a few of the problems, marking the places they had made mistakes in their own work.
They felt Dex’s gaze on them but refused to look at him.
They couldn’t bear seeing his smugness or, worse, his pity.
Not when he was, against all logic and reason, some sort of mathematical prodigy or some bullshit.
“So, uh, math’s not your thing, huh?” Dex whispered as the class drew to a close, and Cya hissed wordlessly at him as they violently shoved their practice exam into their bag and out of sight. “Hey, no shade. I’m not good at lots of stuff. Math’s probably the only subject that comes easy for me.”
“Congratulations,” they said sarcastically.
“Uh, thanks, I guess.” Dex scratched the back of his neck. “But, like, what I meant is that it’s fine if math’s not your strong suit."
“I’m fine with math,” they lied as they slipped their laptop into their bag to join their practice exam.
“You marked a lot of answers wrong,” he said, and their tail rattled of its own accord, betraying their annoyance. “I could help, you know? I’m a—”
Unable to swallow it, Cya barked a laugh. “I can’t imagine a scenario where I would ever need your help with anything.”
“Whoa, that was hella bitchy,” Dex said, and they reared back in shock.
He wasn’t wrong. It had been bitchy. But no one had ever called them out on it before.
“Excuse me?” they demanded, defenses rising.
“You’re excused,” he said with far too much pep. “I figured you didn’t mean to be bitchy, which is why I said something. Self-awareness is important, you know?”
Glowering at him, Cya drummed their fingers on the desk and remained silent, waiting for him to catch on to their annoyance. He didn’t. He grinned cheekily at them for nearly a full minute before he said, “Anyway—”
“For fuck’s sake!”
They had never been more relieved to end a class than they were right now as Professor Myls bid them all a good evening. Surging out of their seat, they made to rush from the room, but the professor called their name before they could escape.
“Cya, Dex, a word?”
“For sure, Prof,” Dex said as he hooked his backpack over one shoulder.
Grudgingly, Cya slunk toward the professor’s desk, fuming at the injustice of it all.
“Dex, can you wait outside for a minute? I’ll call you back in a bit,” Professor Myls said, and Dex saluted her.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
As the room emptied, Dex slipped out amidst the other students, while Cya fidgeted with the strap of their computer bag and tried not to pout like a child. The moment the door closed behind the last student, they said, “I wasn’t even talking, Professor. I told the Lupyn to be quiet, but he—”
“Oh, that’s not why I asked you to stay,” Professor Myls interrupted, and they swallowed their next bout of justifications.
They deflated somewhat. “Oh.”
“I wanted to discuss your current grade and maybe offer some options to get you more support,” she said kindly, and Cya’s cheeks heated in humiliation.
“I know I can do better,” they said softly. “I’m trying; I am. But I’ve picked up more hours at work, and it’s been a bigger adjustment than I expected. Not that it’s an excuse! I take my studies very seriously.”
Waving her hands to stop them, Professor Myls interrupted again. “You misunderstand. I’m not reprimanding you. I am fully aware of your effort; I see it every class period. And I took the liberty of checking your file, and you’re excelling in your other subjects.
“That’s the reason I wanted to talk to you about your grade in my class. I would hate for it to bring down your GPA when you’re doing so well. So I wanted to discuss support options…”
Cold dread turned their already cool blood to ice as the professor’s voice faded to white noise.
Their GPA couldn’t dip. Their parents ignored them most of the time, but they always checked up on their studies.
If their grades took a nosedive, their parents would notice, and they would start prying into Cya’s life.
They’d find out about the late classes, which would lead them to the cafe.
They’d make Cya quit for sure, and they’d lose whatever semblance of autonomy and freedom they’d managed to create for themself.
“Cya?” Professor Myls’s voice pulled them out of their spiral of despair, and they inhaled sharply as the lecture hall came back into focus.
“Yes?”
“Are you”—she studied them in concern—“alright?”
“Yes,” they repeated, forcing their choppy breathing to even out. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”
“So, we’re in agreement, then?” she asked, and Cya barely resisted the urge to bash their head on the professor’s desk.
They hadn’t been listening. They had been too busy catastrophizing! But they couldn’t admit that, so they nodded and said, for a third time, “Yes. Of course. Full agreement.”
Smiling proudly, Professor Myls stood and clasped her hands in front of her stomach. “Excellent. I’m so happy you’re open to tutoring. I really think it can help,”
“Tutoring?” they asked, then scrambled to cover the blunder. “I mean, yes, tutoring. How… wonderful,” they ground out, another wave of humiliation rolling over them.
“Now, now,” the professor chided lightly, “don’t look at me like that. There’s nothing wrong with needing a little help now and then.”
With a nod of deference, Cya attempted a smile, though they were confident it looked more like a grimace. “Of course. If you have the contact information for the tutor, I will reach out—”
“Oh, no need for that,” Professor Myls said as she leaned onto the desk and called out, “Dex? Can you come in, please?”
Wait, Dex? Horror like Cya had never known crashed through them as the Lupyn appeared and loped across the room. He propped his fists on his hips and offered the teacher an easy grin.
“What’s up, Prof?”
“It’s Professor Myls,” she corrected before she gestured to Cya. “Dex, meet your new tutoring student. Cya, meet your new tutor.”
“What!” Cya cried in dismay as Dex’s entire countenance lit up.
He grinned so wide it was practically cartoonish, tail wagging hard enough against the professor’s desk that one of her pens rolled right across it and clattered to the floor. “Alright, alright!”
“But—but—no,” Cya breathed miserably.
Heterochromatic eyes gleaming with excitement, Dex lifted a hand, palm out, and gleefully exclaimed, “Destiny high-five!”