A month passes

Almost a month has passed since I moved into the dorm.

Somehow, it already feels like I’ve been here much longer.

I’ve gotten settled into my classes, figured out my routine, and gotten used to living with three completely different guys. And honestly, I’ve been pretty lucky with my roommates.

Doug is still Doug. He’s awkward, incredibly smart, and has a habit of explaining things way longer than necessary. But he’s a good guy, and we’ve gotten pretty close.

Chase is definitely the party guy. He’s always talking about something going on that weekend, but he’s not the asshole I initially expected him to be. He’s actually pretty easy to get along with, even if I don’t always understand how he has the energy to go out four nights a week.

Jeff is probably the easiest person to live with. He’s laid-back, friendly, and doesn’t make a big deal out of anything. A couple weeks ago, he brought his girlfriend over for dinner, and she was really nice. The four of us ended up having a pretty good night together.

School has been going well too.

For the most part.

There’s one class that’s giving me trouble.

No matter how much I study, the material just doesn’t seem to stick. The first exam went badly, and the second one wasn’t much better. I’ve been looking at my grades online more often than I’d like to admit, trying to figure out exactly how badly I’m doing.

The answer isn’t great.

If I don’t turn things around soon, I might actually fail the class.

And that’s not something I can afford.

I’m sitting at my desk one afternoon, staring at my latest exam grade on my laptop.

Doug looks over from across the room.

“You okay?”

I close the laptop halfway.

“Yeah. Just this class.”

“What happened?”

“I think I’m screwed.”

Doug adjusts his glasses.

“That’s probably not mathematically accurate.”

I look at him.

“Thanks, Doug.”

He pauses.

“I mean… you could still recover.”

I sigh and lean back in my chair.

“I need to figure something out.”

Doug looks at me for a second.

Then he says, almost casually, “I know someone who might be able to help.”

I sit up.

“Who?”

Doug turns back toward his computer.

“There’s a tutoring program on campus.”

I stare at him.

“A tutor?”

“Yeah.”

He pauses.

“I can set you up with someone who can help you.”

For the first time all afternoon, I feel a little bit of relief.

Maybe there’s still a way out of this.