Without Tia's help, Michael's academic life was a wreckage. He had failed three tests in a row—a disaster that never would have happened if Tia still cared about him.
"I really don't know what to do, bro," Michael muttered to Marcus, staring at the bright red 'F' mocking him from the paper. "My father is going to kill me if he finds out I'm failing."
Marcus sighed, leaning back. "I think you'd better start reading. Exams are around the corner, and it wouldn't be cool if you tanked those, too."
"It's not that I can't be serious," Michael countered, his voice defensive. "But whenever I try to study, I just get... lazy at some point."
"You really have to change that if you want to pass."
"I'm just used to Tia's help," Michael groaned. "Even if she doesn't want me anymore, she should at least not let me fail."
Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "Dude, Tia isn't coming to the rescue. I'm pretty sure she doesn't even remember your name anymore."
Michael let out a low groan. "Please, can you tell me something that will actually make me feel better?"
Marcus tapped his own cheek thoughtfully. "Okay, I think I can say something to cheer you up."
"Then go on, stop wasting time."
"Even if everyone on earth forgets your name, I'll always remember it." Marcus burst into laughter the second he finished the sentence, leaving Michael to scowl in silence.
Their conversation was cut short as Stella arrived, draped in expensive clothing. Marcus's eyes widened at her transformation, though his expression soured the moment she moved to sit with them.
"Hello, babe," Stella cooed, leaning down to press a kiss against Michael's lips.
Marcus's mouth hung open. It was the first time he'd seen anyone kiss Michael so boldly. "Are you guys... dating?" he asked, looking back and forth between them.
"Yes, we are," Stella answered before Michael could draw breath. She rested her head on his shoulder with a possessive grin. "Don't we look good together?"
Marcus forced a fake smile. "Yeah... you two look so... so good together. Congratulations." He quickly looked away; their snuggling was starting to make him feel physically ill.
"Thank you for the money you sent me, Mike," Stella whispered, rubbing his cheek gently. "I've never looked better than I do in these new clothes."
"You don't need to thank me. As my girlfriend, you have to look the part, and I'll do everything to make sure you do." Michael tapped her nose, making her giggle.
"Can you guys stop before I puke?" Marcus snapped in disgust.
"Awww, are you jealous?" Stella mocked, her tone sharp.
"I am not. I just don't want to hear the sound of your smooches." Marcus stood up abruptly. "I'll see you after class, Michael." He vanished before Michael could even offer a reply.
Throughout the lecture, Michael's eyes remained fixed on Tia. He needed something from her. As soon as he saw her packing her things to head back to the dorms, he knew he had to move.
"Where are you going?" Stella asked, her voice calm but her eyes narrowing.
"I need to have a word with Tia."
Stella's expression shifted instantly. "Tia? Why do you want to talk to her?"
"I just need a little help with something."
"Can't I help you instead?" Stella pouted. "I don't want you talking to her."
"I'm not going to woo her, don't worry. I'll be back soon, and then we'll go to the movies like I promised."
"Fine. You can go talk to her," Stella conceded, crossing her arms.
Michael offered a small smile and hurried toward Tia. He tapped her shoulder gently. When she turned and saw him, her face immediately dropped into a frown.
"Is there a problem?" she asked coldly.
"Yes, there is."
"And does this problem have anything to do with you?"
"Kind of, yeah."
"Then I don't care. You telling me makes it my problem if I think about it, and I don't want anything that concerns you to concern me." She tried to sidestep him, but Michael blocked her path.
"I know you want to be a good student," Michael whispered, leaning in. "If you don't help me, how are you going to prove to others that you aren't selfish?"
Tia let out a long, weary sigh. "Fine. What do you want exactly?"
"I haven't been doing well lately in my studies. Exams are starting soon, and I need some of your old notes to catch up."
"Don't you have your own? I mean, if I have notes, you should too."
"I don't usually have time for that," Michael said, his tone surprisingly bold.
"Okay... what about Stella?"
"I really don't want to stress her out with this."
Tia smirked. A dark, satisfying idea began to take root in her mind—a way to finally get back at him. "Follow me." She led him to her locker, her mind racing. "You want some of my notes, huh? you didn't have time to take your own and you don't want to 'stress' Stella?"
Michael raised an eyebrow. "Tia, why are you sounding like you aren't going to help me?"
"Oh no, why would I do that? I'll help you because it's the right thing to do." She opened her locker and pulled out a notebook. It was five years out of date, given to her by a senior she had once cherished who had long since graduated. The information inside was useless now, but she had kept it for sentimental reasons.
As Michael reached out to grab it, Tia snatched it back. "Hey, this isn't free, you know," she said, her voice loud enough for others to hear.
Michael chuckled nervously. "What do you mean it isn't free?"
"I mean you have to give me money if you want the notes."
"Since when did you start charging for ordinary notes?"
"I started when I realized people like you are too lazy to make their own."
Michael sighed, defeated. "How much?"
Tia inspected the cover of the notebook. "Give me three hundred bucks."
"Isn't that too much, Tia? It's just a notebook."
"If you aren't ready to pay, you don't get the notes."
Michael glared at her for a long moment before reluctantly reaching for his wallet. He shoved the money toward her and snatched the book. "There's plenty more where that came from. I don't mind helping the poor."
Tia felt a flash of anger at his words, but she refused to let it show. She didn't want him to think his insults had landed. She stood by her locker, watching him swagger away.
"Let's see how you do on those exams," she whispered with a satisfied smile, then turned and walked out of the building.
*****
"You're back early today." Karen hugged Michael the moment he stepped through the front door.
"Really?" Michael checked his watch. I guess the movies didn't take as long as I thought, he mused.
"Did you change your perfume? I don't recognize this scent," Karen said, sniffing his shirt.
Michael knew exactly what it was—Stella's scent had clung to him the moment she touched him. He didn't feel like explaining his new relationship to his mother yet. "Someone mistakenly sprayed their perfume on me," he lied, trying to brush past her.
As he moved, his bag—which wasn't zipped properly—swung open. A single test script fluttered out and landed face-up on the floor.
Karen's face fell. She quickly reached down to pick it up. "Michael, what is this?"
Michael turned, his eyes widening in horror. He cursed his luck for not closing the bag. "It's... it's not mine," he stammered.
"Your name is written right here in bold letters." Karen squinted at the paper, her heart sinking.
Realizing there was no way out, Michael slumped his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Mom. It won't happen again."
"Michael, this has never happened before. Is there something you want to tell me?"
Michael couldn't bring himself to admit that Tia had been the secret engine behind his success since freshman year. He decided to bury the truth deeper. "No, Mom. I don't have anything to say. Please... don't tell Dad."
"I won't. But don't let this repeat itself," Karen warned, her expression heavy with sadness.
Michael hated hurting his mother. He nodded quickly, took the failing script from her hand, and headed to his room. He clutched the old notebook Tia had given him, believing it was the key to saving his semester. He had no idea he had just walked straight into her trap.