If Tomorrow Doesn't Come by Jen St. Jude

If Tomorrow Doesn't Come by Jen St. Jude

Author:Jen St. Jude
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781547611379
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2023-08-15T00:00:00+00:00


This also meant I was running on empty when I showed up to my classes. I’d registered for chemistry, philosophy, statistics, and the American Short Story class taught by Dr. Basil Talley. My other three teachers barely knew who I was, and I was scraping by based on fumes alone. But Dr. Talley actively hated me. During our very first class, I was wearing our team jacket. When we went around the room to introduce ourselves, he stared at me blankly after I said my name, home state, and fun fact (I was born in Ireland).

“You’re on the soccer team?”

“Yes.”

“Athletes don’t get special treatment in my class.”

“I, uh, wouldn’t expect any.”

“Are there any other fall athletes in this group?” A football player and a field hockey player raised their hands. “Ah, well. I have only met one student athlete in my years at Eaton who was academically exceptional. Statistically speaking, I highly doubt all three of you will measure up.” The three of us looked at each other slack-jawed, and when he pointed at the girl sitting next to me to introduce herself, I shut my mouth and stared at my hands.

After class, I timidly hung back as the other students filed out of the room.

“Can I help you?” he said gruffly. He didn’t even look up at me as he gathered leftover syllabi and papers into an expensive-looking leather folder.

“Thank you for class,” I said, hoping to soften what I was going to say next. “I just wanted to let you know I have to leave early from two of our classes this semester for away games. I have this note from my coach.” I walked toward him and held it out, my hand shaking. He finally looked at me, took the paper, and put it in the recycling bin behind him without reading it.

“Each student is allowed two absences. That was outlined in the syllabus.”

“Oh, right. Just like, if I get sick or—”

“You can miss those two classes. Just like everyone else. If you miss any more, you’ll lose one full letter grade per absence.”

“Noted,” I said, and felt my stomach sink. “Thanks.”

“And,” he called as I walked through the door, “you lose one letter grade for every day you’re late on an assignment.”

I had to miss my first of his classes to leave early for our very first game against Holy Cross the next Friday, and my family drove to Worcester to watch me play. The field glowed under spotlights, and I bounced around on my cleats trying to stay warm as the sun went down. My parents clapped and yelled in the stands, so proud to be there and so ready to watch me play, Peter, Georgia, and Teddy beside them.

As soon as the whistle blew to start the game, I already knew I was going to struggle. I passed the ball to Aisha, and she had to jump back to receive it. As she pushed the ball up the field, I couldn’t get to it before it skipped out of bounds.



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