I pace up and down the corridor, and every few seconds glance at the closed door of the classroom. I check my watch for the hundredth time. Why does Wright have to hold his students a good fifteen to thirty minutes after the actual time of his class?

I roll my eyes and readjust the straps of my backpack.

My heart hammers in my chest, my palms get clammy just by considering what I'm going to do and the effects it might have. I swallow the non-existent saliva in my mouth and lean to the wall, willing myself to calm down and pull myself together.

Five minutes later, the door finally opens as the poor students flee from his classroom.

I straighten myself and run my palms over my hair to smoothen it as I near the door.

Professor Wright snaps shut his satchel, pushes his glasses up his nose and deliberately strides away from the podium. The moment his gaze lands on me, he quirks an eyebrow.

"Good afternoon, Professor," I start as he steps out of the classroom. Not giving him a chance to open his mouth, I continue. "It's me Gracie Stewart."

He halts, his dark blue eyes survey me as he frowns. "I don't suffer from any form of memory loss diseases; I perfectly know who you are Miss Stewart." He states and starts walking.

I inhale sharply and hurry after him, that's not a good start. Regardless, I force a smile and fake a laugh "Right." Rubbing my palm over my other arm I say, "I need to talk to you, sir. I won't take much of your time."

"Sure," he nods and that's it. We fall into an uncomfortable silence as he makes his way to his room. He fishes out the key from his back pocket and unlocks his office.

Wright enters the room and I follow, only stopping at a pace away from the doorframe and glance between him the door.

"Close it if you want," he says without sparing a glance in my way and settles behind his desk -still overflowing with books and papers- and rolls up the sleeves of his dark green shirt.

I comply and shut the door before standing across from him, looping my thumbs through the bag's straps, I start. "On Wednesday when I came to your office, you told me to be creative... to pass this class."

He nods, his expression is vacant, his eyes bore into me.

I shift on my spot, struggling to align the words for my next sentence. "I decided to be you TA," I announce with a broad smile.

His eyebrows jump high, creasing his forehead. I can't stop myself from imagining how comical he'd appear if they would have reached his hairline.

A corner of his mouth quirks up. After a moment of staring at each other, he finally speaks, "You're serious?"

"Of course I am." I tangle my fingers in front of me and continue, "You technically can't fail your TA, and also, you'll see how good I am."

An incredulous laugh rushes out of nose before he leans into his seat. Wright pushes his glasses up his nose and crosses his arms in front of himself. "You decided to be my TA?" he asks as though he can't believe what he's saying.

Nevertheless, I nod with a smile.

"And why would I do that?" he questions with raised brows and cocks his head to the side.

"Because I'm smart." I hold myself from finishing my comment with 'duh' but I guess my tone inclined to it.

He gazes at me, then vacantly stares past me, a faraway look in his eyes. I try to not think of how he looks like he is contemplating and double-guessing all his decisions that led him to decide to become a professor and it somehow ended with him being across from me.

Instead, I wait patiently, fidgeting with the thin bracelet on my wrist.

A small sigh escapes his lips and he turns to me, while he points at the chair a few paces away from me. "Sit."

I shake my head, ready to decline but this time he speaks firmer. "Miss Stewart, just sit."

Wordlessly, I settle down on the flimsy chair, sliding my backpack in front of myself and watch him with wide eyes, trying to read or catch a hint of what's going on inside his head.

"I don't doubt your academic capabilities, nor do I suggest you're not smart, you've made it through maths for so long and now you're almost graduating," he pauses and shifts on his seat. Wright rubs his chin and goes on, "But you're failing my class. And I can't make a failing student my TA. Frankly, no one in its right would do that."

"But how else am I going to prove to you that I'm a great student, and deserve to get the maximum grade? This is the perfect way to show you." The urgency underlying my voice makes me worry he can see through me and my plan.

If I could somehow get him to agree with me, from there on, it'll be a straight paved road to getting him to work on that Riemann theory problem I solved only two nights ago.

But, when have I ever achieved anything easily?

I hold back my groan as Wright replies, "There are so many ways for you to do that. Perhaps start with being more active in my class, that's a good and harmless way of showing your determination and even how well you'll be able to handle this subject."

I slide to the edge of my seat. That method is neither fast nor effective. "But I know I can. Catching up with the class is nothing for me."

He quirks an eyebrow at me. "Oh really?"

I roll my eyes and inhale sharply. Why on earth is he being so annoying. "You said you'll help me, sir," I say in a forced steady voice.

"Am I not doing that?" he leans forward, a slow small smile creeps to his face.

I clench my hand into a fist and offer him a tight-lipped smile. "Well, you will if you agree to let me become your TA."

The sides of his eyes crinkle because of his grin as he leans back into his seat. He looks a lot younger when he smiles, showcasing his perfectly white and straight teeth, a boyish glint in his dark blue eyes. He shakes his head and the smile fades away. "I understand your situation," he starts, his eyes fix on his fingers as he twirls a blue pen. "But so far, I have seen nothing promising from your side in my classrooms, I hope you understand my view too."

"I do, but I'm graduating next semester. I need high grades and a good resume," I argue, giving in to my desperation.

My goddamned, life-changing resume is sitting in my bedroom. Every passing second adds to the risk of losing the right to submit this discovery under my name. And here Professor Wright is opening his freaking Satchel and pulling out an orange plastic folder.

If he wasn't my professor and I didn't need his name for being able to publish the paper, I would have smacked him with his bag. But no, I can't do that. Not yet at least. I shake my head. Focus, Gracie, focus.

He scans the file in his hand and nods. "I know, but this isn't the right way. You can't skip the steps while going up a ladder."

I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from shouting profanities. With a sharp intake of breath, I clasp my hands together. "I don't have much time, and I need to get this right." My voice barely trembles, enough to grab his attention and stitch it to my face.

An emotion I can't decipher briefly flickers in his eyes before it dies out. "I understand, believe me, I do. Dealing with bankruptcy is no easy thing, and that's the only reason why I've decided to give you a second chance. If you want to show me you're serious, then do it by being active in the class, doing extra assignments, or turning them in early and improve your performance on the occasional quizzes. The moment I'm convinced that you're ready, I can assure you, I'll help you get into a good university."

I sink into my seat, my shoulders dropping. That can take the entire semester. What if he finds the solution to that problem?

I frown. Did he just say bankruptcy?

I never mentioned that to him. My eyebrows move upwards, and a smile tugs at my lips. "You Googled me," The words stream out of me before I can think better as I turn to face him.

His eyes go round. Professor Wright blinks as the tips of ears turn bright red.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinning or possibly laughing.

"I don't Google my students, miss Stewart," he snaps and glares at me.

I shrug. "It's okay if you did." It's not like anyone would ever know the truth. The bad guys won and now their side of the story, or better said as the made side will be presented as the truth. I push aside the thoughts. Dueling in the past benefited no one.

He glowers at me with full force.

I smile and continue, "Julia could have told you, or you could have even Googled my brother, he technically isn't your student." Unable to stop myself, I smirk.

No sane person would risk messing with her Professor who just seconds ago offered to help.

I can't wait to tell Melody about this and see her reaction.

"I don't need to Google your brother," he mutters darkly, piquing my interest.

Mason was really active on social media before our lives went downhill. Maybe he followed him back then? Do guys even do that? Especially a guy like Wright? I doubt that.

I rack my mind in hopes of finding other clues for connecting the dots.

Mason dated Julia. And they both used to go to Harvard. She also mentioned Wright was one of those annoying ass students.

Holy shit. What if Mason and he had classes together? It couldn't be much, since their majors are different, but it might be enough to help me impress him sooner rather than later.

"Do you know my brother?" I ask with a burst of excitement. This can be used as a great leverage point for getting him to agree to have his name written on the paper for validating my answer.

His features draw together, he lifts a shoulder as the corners of his mouth go downwards. "We shared a few classes."

My eyes widen. Perfect! "Were you friends?"

"Not exactly."

I frown. How's that possible? Mason never failed to befriend anyone in the same room as him, let alone share a course in an entire semester. "Why?" the word tumbles out of me. They can't be enemies; they didn't have anything in common to start a rivalry between them.

Wright leans into his seat, a small smile curves his full lips. "He slept with my at that times' girlfriend."

My mouth hangs open. In a different world, with another set of rules, my jaw could have hit the floor.

Damn you Mason. You little piece of shit.

Professor Wright adds in an amused tone, "But it's in the past. No need to worry, it won't affect your grade."

I inhale deeply with relief. At least he's sensible enough to not mix up what stupid Mason did years ago with my current academic life.

"Study, and then we'll talk about the options regarding your future." He finishes and goes back to studying the papers in front of him.

I nod and smile, thanking him as sincerely as possible before getting to my feet and leaving his office.

∞ ∞ ∞

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

I'm going to try to finish this book before July (because, my exams start around that time and I won't be able to keep writing this story, and I really don't want to put this work on hold for an entire month). That being said, I'm going to update this book as frequently as I can (sometimes even every day if my workload would let me). But the chapters might have errors and typos which I'll fix (or edit the entire book) after it is completed.

There will definitely be an update on Sunday.

Don't forget to vote and comment what you thought of this chapter!

Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading! <33