Chapter Eleven

Monday;

I sat in Prof. Montgomery's lecture, my fingers drumming nervously against the desk as if the rhythm could somehow calm my racing thoughts. Lea sat beside me, completely unfazed, her feet casually propped up on the table as she tapped away on her phone. She looked so relaxed, like she was anywhere but in this tense room.

The moment Prof. Montgomery stormed in, the room fell silent. She looked even angrier than usual, her face set in a deep scowl as she tossed her handbag onto the chair with a force that made it bounce. Her piercing gaze swept over the class, daring anyone to make a sound.

"Before I hand out the quizzes," she began, her voice sharp and unyielding, "I just want to inform you all that I've finished grading the assignment." She clapped her hands together, the sound echoing through the room. "And let me be perfectly clear, I do not care what you think about your marks."

Her eyes zeroed in on me, cold and cutting. I shrank under her glare, quickly averting my eyes to the desk as though it suddenly held the secrets of the universe. I could feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment, the air heavy with the weight of her unspoken accusations.

"If you have a problem with your grade," she continued, her gaze never leaving me, "go cry to your parents or the Dean. Do not, under any circumstances, come and bother me."

I could feel Lea's eyes on me, but I kept staring at the desk, my heart pounding in my ears. "What the hell was that about?" Lea whispered, leaning closer, her voice low enough that Prof. Montgomery wouldn't hear.

I forced a small, strained smile and whispered back, "I'll tell you after this lecture."

Prof. Montgomery gave a curt nod, her lips pressed into a thin line as she grabbed the stack of quizzes from her desk. She moved briskly down the rows, dropping the papers onto desks with a sharp snap. When she reached me, she practically slammed my quiz down, making me jump in my seat.

"Jeez," Lea blurted out, her voice cutting through the tense silence. Prof. Montgomery whipped around, her icy glare landing on Lea, who immediately lowered her head, muttering a quick apology before falling silent.

The professor resumed handing out the quizzes without missing a beat, her movements stiff and deliberate. Once she finished, she strode back to the front of the room, signaling the start of the quiz. I stared down at the questions, my mind blank. I hadn't studied—I hadn't even remembered this was happening today. Desperately, I scribbled answers, trying to piece together what little I could remember.

Time slipped away too quickly. My half-finished quiz felt like a weight as I handed it back, my stomach churning with the dread of an inevitable low grade. Prof. Montgomery collected the papers, stacking them haphazardly before shoving them into her drawer with a loud scrape.

"Books out," she snapped, her voice cutting through my thoughts like a knife. The lecture began, her words a steady, droning hum that barely registered. I opened my notebook, but my pen hovered uselessly above the page. My thoughts kept drifting back to her office—her furious eyes, her cutting words, the way she'd looked at me like I was completely insignificant. I couldn't shake the memory of being kicked out, feeling small and powerless, and now, sitting in her class, I felt it all over again.

I've never been so embarrassed in my life, and I've never lost my temper like that before. Yelling at someone isn't me—it's not who I am, and I swear, I'll never let that happen again. If Prof. Montgomery said my assignment was crap, then maybe it was. I'll own this mistake and just work harder on the next one.

Throughout the entire lecture, I barely took notes. My mind was miles away, replaying everything that had happened in her office. The moment Prof. Montgomery dismissed us, I gathered my things in a hurry, stuffing my books into my bag with shaky hands. I couldn't get out of that room fast enough.

Lea was waiting outside, her arm immediately draping over my shoulder as she took a long sip from her Monster Energy drink. The faint fizzing sound was the only noise between us for a moment. "You know," I said, shaking my head slightly, "drinking those every day can't be good for your heart."

Lea glanced at me, raising an eyebrow before taking another casual sip. "We all die someday," she said, smirking, "I'll just die a little earlier than usual." She gave me a playful nudge, but her lightheartedness didn't fully reach me. I forced a small smile, trying to let her carefree attitude lift my mood, even if just a little.

We strolled to the fountain, the silence between us filled only by the sound of trickling water. We sank onto the bench, and Lea turned toward me, her eyes narrowing in curiosity.

"So..." she drawled, drawing out the word like she was savoring the suspense. "Are you going to tell me what that whole scene in the lecture was about?"

I exhaled deeply, tipping my head back to stare up at the sky, searching for any semblance of calm. "I got my assignment results back, and I was pissed," I admitted, the disappointment still lingering in my voice. "I mean, I put my heart into that assignment, worked my ass off, and all I got was sixty percent."

Lea's gaze was steady, her brows furrowed in concentration as she listened. "Damn," she said, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "So what happened?"

"I was so mad that I stormed straight into her office, no knocking, nothing. I demanded to know why she was so unfair," I said, my frustration bubbling up just thinking about it.

Lea's eyes widened, and she let out a surprised laugh. "Wait, you actually stormed into Prof. Montgomery's office and yelled at her? How are you even still alive?"

I put a finger to my lips, shushing her before continuing. "I was fuming, Lea. I told her the grade was unfair and asked why I got marked so low. She didn't even flinch—just told me my work was crap and that if I didn't get out, she'd fail me outright." I rubbed my temples, the memory of her icy glare still fresh. "I tried to say something, but she just cut me off and kicked me out like I was nothing."

Lea shook her head, a mix of disbelief and admiration in her eyes. "You've got guts, Val. But damn, you really walked into the lion's den."

I felt stupid—like the kind of mistake that would haunt me forever, playing on repeat in my mind. I sighed, shaking off the lingering embarrassment, and turned to Lea. "How'd your marks turn out?" I asked, genuinely curious.

Lea shrugged casually, but there was a hint of indifference in her expression. "No clue. I haven't bothered to check," she said, tossing the empty Monster can into the trash with a lazy flick of her wrist.

I nudged her with my elbow, nodding towards her phone. "Come on, check. Let's see how you did."

Lea rolled her eyes but begrudgingly pulled out her phone, scrolling through her emails. Her brows furrowed as she read, and she let out an exasperated groan. "Are you kidding me? I got fifty percent!" She threw her hands up in frustration, slumping back against the bench like the weight of the grade had physically knocked the wind out of her.

I couldn't help but frown. Prof. Montgomery really didn't believe in handing out easy marks. Sure, it's our third year, and we're supposed to be pushing ourselves, but damn, it felt like a slap in the face when you'd actually tried.

"Sorry, that sucks," I said, leaning back and stretching my legs out in front of me. "I thought I had it bad."

Lea just shrugged, her face settling into a look of indifference as she leaned back. "Honestly? I don't even care. It's whatever."

Lea stretched her arms over her head, her movements languid and unbothered, then turned her gaze toward me with a sly smile. "You missed out, you know," she said, flicking her lighter and igniting a cigarette. The orange glow briefly lit her face, accentuating the mischief in her eyes. "This weekend was wild. You should've come."

I returned her smile with a tight one of my own, trying to mask the discomfort creeping in from the smell of smoke. "Yeah, sorry," I said, shrugging. "Clubs really aren't my thing."

Lea exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching it swirl and fade into the air. She glanced at me sideways, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You keep saying that, but I'll get you out there one day." She took another drag, the ember flaring as if to punctuate her confidence.

I just laughed softly, letting her believe her words might sway me someday. In reality, the thought of loud music, sweaty crowds, and flashing lights made me cringe, but I'd let Lea keep her little challenge. Pulling out my phone, I quickly typed out a message to my aunt, asking what she wanted for dinner.

I'd made up my mind to cook tonight—something I rarely did but felt was overdue. She wouldn't get home until after six, exhausted from another long shift, though she'd never admit how worn out she really was. I figured a warm meal would be a small way to show my appreciation, even if my cooking skills were still a work in progress.

Lea checked her watch, flicked her cigarette to the ground, and crushed it under her shoe. "Gotta head to my next lecture," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Catch you later!" With a quick wave, she disappeared into the crowd of students, leaving me alone on the bench with my tangled thoughts.

I glanced around the courtyard, feeling the minutes stretch unbearably long. What was I supposed to do for the next hour? My mind ran through the options: I could head to the café, lose myself in a cup of coffee and a decadent slice of cake—tempting, but maybe not the most productive. Or, I could trudge to the library and bury my nose in my textbooks, though the idea of sitting in silence felt suffocating.

Then, a lightbulb moment hit me. Why not do both? I could take my laptop to the café, set up shop with a coffee and a slice of cake, and get some studying done in a cozy corner. Perfect plan. I grinned to myself, feeling a surge of satisfaction. Sometimes, my genius is...it's almost frightening.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and made my way to my car, the sun hanging high in the sky as I navigated the campus lot. A short drive later, I pulled into the familiar parking spot at Midnight Mocha.

As I walked in, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries greeted me. Ethan, the barista with a perpetually bright smile, spotted me immediately. "Hey, Val!" he called out from behind the counter. "Iced coffee and a slice of cheesecake, right?" He was already prepping my order, his movements swift and practiced.

I laughed, reaching into my bag for my wallet. "You know me too well. Yeah, that's perfect." But before I could pay, Ethan waved me off with a grin.

"Oh, no need for that. Your friend covered it," he said, nodding as he slid the coffee and cheesecake onto the counter.

I blinked in surprise, slipping my wallet back into my bag. "Wait, what? When?"

"Yesterday," Ethan explained, chuckling at my confusion. "She said it was a thank you for helping her out with that group project."

My confusion melted into a smile. "Wow, that's really sweet of her." I picked up my order, the cool condensation of the iced coffee refreshing against my hand. "Thanks, Ethan. I guess I owe her one now."

I found an empty table by the window and set up my things, feeling grateful for the unexpected kindness. Looks like I'll have to find a way to thank her back—she didn't have to do that, especially since she already treated me to coffee last week.

I had just settled into my chair, my iced coffee within reach and my laptop open, when the familiar jingle of the café doorbell echoed through the room. I glanced up absentmindedly, expecting to see a random customer, but my stomach dropped when I caught sight of Professor Montgomery striding in, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.

Oh, no. Not here. Not now.

Panicking, I ducked behind my laptop, hunching down as if it could somehow make me invisible. My heart pounded as I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She moved with her usual confident, no-nonsense demeanor, barely acknowledging anyone as she placed her order. I held my breath, praying she wouldn't notice me.

It felt like an eternity as I crouched behind my screen, peeking through the gap. Finally, she reappeared, two steaming cups of coffee in hand, and walked briskly out the door without so much as a glance in my direction.

I released a long, shaky breath and sat back up, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders. That was way too close. The last thing I needed was one of her icy glares or a snarky comment. Grateful for the near miss, I refocused on my notes, determined not to let anything—or anyone—derail my day.

When it was time for my next lecture, I reluctantly packed up my belongings and headed to my car. The drive back to campus was a quiet, meditative escape. For once, I didn't even bother turning on the radio; the silence felt oddly calming, giving me a moment to collect my thoughts.

I pulled into the parking lot, grabbed my bag, and stepped out, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement. Just one more class to get through—Lab Skills with Prof. Montgomery. Great. Not exactly the most exciting prospect, considering how the last encounter went. But there was no avoiding it.

Dragging my feet, I trudged toward the lecture hall, each step heavier than the last. As I shuffled inside, the echo of my sneakers against the floor seemed to announce my sluggish arrival. My heart sank when I saw her already at the podium, shuffling through her notes. She looked up, her eyes locking onto mine with a familiar, irritated glare that sent a jolt through me.

I straightened up immediately, quickening my pace as I scurried to find a seat, feeling her eyes on my back the whole way. I really should have checked if she was in here before I dragged my feet like a moody teenager.

Prof. Montgomery wasted no time diving straight into today's lesson, her voice cutting through the quiet lecture hall without so much as a hello. She moved briskly, writing equations on the board and explaining today's experiments with her usual sharp tone.

I couldn't help but feel relieved when I realized there was no quiz today. Thank goodness—dodged a bullet there. No way I was going to remind her about it; I hadn't even glanced at my notes this week.

After a quick rundown of the experiments, Prof. Montgomery told us to get started on our own. No handouts, no detailed instructions—just whatever we could recall from her hasty demonstration. The room buzzed with nervous energy as everyone tried to remember the exact steps she showed us.

Some students were struggling right out of the gate, beakers clinking as they fumbled through the setup, while others breezed through with confidence. I thought I was doing okay, carefully following each step as best as I could remember. But as I moved on to the next stage, I realized too late that I'd mixed the wrong reagents. The liquid in my flask bubbled, then fizzled out in a sad, murky mess. My heart sank as I watched all my work crumble in front of me, knowing I'd have to start from scratch.

With a heavy sigh, I pushed back my chair, the legs scraping against the floor, and gathered up my failed experiment. I dumped the contents into the sink, the liquid swirling down the drain in a defeated whirlpool before clattering the glassware down. Time to start over.

I sank back into my seat, resting my elbows on the desk as I tried to steady my nerves. Think, Valentina, think. I mentally retraced each step, going over the measurements and ratios until I felt sure I had it right this time. I grabbed a fresh set of beakers, carefully measuring each reagent with extra precision, my hands steady despite the pressure.

About ten minutes later, the liquid in the test tube shifted into a deep, dark red, almost like the rich hue of blood. A small smile tugged at my lips—it worked. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, feeling the weight of my earlier mistake lift.

Satisfied with the outcome, I got to work cleaning up. I washed the flasks and beakers, the cool water rinsing away the evidence of trial and error. Each piece was carefully returned to its spot, and I wiped down the workspace, leaving the area spotless.

Prof. Montgomery dismissed the class with a curt wave of her hand, and students quickly shuffled out, eager to escape the tension that always seemed to linger in her lectures. I stayed behind, waiting until the room emptied and it was just the two of us. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat louder than the last, but I knew I had to do this—I had to apologize.

I watched her as she gathered her papers, her sharp eyes focused on her work, completely ignoring my presence. I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to muster the courage to approach. Every instinct told me to turn around and leave, but I couldn't.

Without lifting her gaze, she spoke, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it." The dismissiveness in her tone stung, and I couldn't help the small eye roll that escaped me.

"I don't like it when people roll their eyes at me," she snapped, looking up suddenly. Her icy stare pinned me in place. Crap, I hadn't realized she'd been watching.

I took a shaky breath and stepped closer to her desk, nerves making my fingers fidget. "Professor," I began, my voice softer than I intended. "I want to apologize for barging into your office this morning and for yelling at you. I know it was wrong."

Prof. Montgomery leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other with an air of casual indifference. Her eyes, sharp and unblinking, stayed locked on mine, giving away nothing but boredom. The silence between us stretched painfully, and I could feel my palms grow clammy as I tried to hold my ground.

"You're the professor, and I'm just a student. I had no right to question your way of marking," I said, my voice wavering slightly as I spoke. "And for that, I apologize."

She didn't blink, didn't nod, didn't even shift her gaze. Her expression remained unchanged, as if my words hadn't reached her at all. I stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. Was she going to respond? Should I just leave? The silence felt suffocating, and I shifted nervously on my feet.

"Okay," she said flatly, her tone void of any hint of forgiveness or acknowledgment. She sat up straight, turning her attention back to her papers as if I wasn't even there. That was it? Just okay? I stared at her, waiting for something more, but she was already absorbed in her work, dismissing me without a second thought.

"You can leave now," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as if my presence was more of a headache than my apology was worth.

With a soft sigh, I stepped out of the lecture hall, the heavy door clicking shut behind me. The afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor. I felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. At least my conscience was clear now—I'd done my part and apologized, even if she didn't care to hear it. Forgiveness wasn't hers to give; I had been the bigger person, and for that, I was proud.

Time to finally head home—or rather, make a quick detour to the store first. Aunt Grace had texted me back earlier, saying she was craving mac and cheese tonight and that she'd start on it when she got home. Little did she know, I planned to surprise her by making it myself. I could already imagine the look on her face when she realized she wouldn't have to cook after a long day.

With a satisfied smile, I straightened my shoulders, feeling a renewed sense of determination. My footsteps were lighter as I crossed the campus grounds and made my way to my car, ready to tackle the next task.