Chapter Text
Truthfully, this probably wasn’t the worst thing that Enid Sinclair had ever experienced. Not by a long-shot anyway.
If someone were to ask, then Enid would say with one hundred percent certainty that she has been through a lot in her nineteen years of life, obviously including some ups and similarly downs, like accidentally locking her dog outside for the night and getting yelled at for it the next morning by her brother, or crashing Esther’s car into a ditch, and once even dying her hair too neon pink a day before her high school picture day. At least that had been a relatively memorable one. As with everything, there were a few bad ones as well—like the time Enid had donated her entire music disc collection to a deaf center because of a typo or that one REALLY stupid time when she’d shown up to the wrong funeral and cried for like half an hour before someone had finally found the guts to tell her she wasn’t where she had been supposed to be.
Looking back at most of those events—she’d survived them. Even better, she’d survived them with a bright smile on her face and her mental state… well, mostly intact. Although Yoko still liked to playfully pester her sometimes about the fact that she probably knocked a few ‘screws’ loose somewhere along the way.
So, taking all of that into account, a few failed math tests were basically nothing.
Right?
At least that’s what Enid liked to think, obviously. The problem however, as Enid had come to discover as she sat in the rather uncomfortable and hard plastic chair outside Principal Weem’s office, seemed to be a bit larger than that. If Enid didn’t know, then she would guess that this was a one big scheme by the universe to screw her over in the worst way possible. Literally! Enid could swear that all of the annoyingly bright and obnoxious fluorescent lights hanging overhead, were placed there just today at just the right brightness to piss her off with all of the low insistent buzzing emitting from them.
Then again, Enid knew fair well that her head hadn’t fully gone back into the ‘normal life’ rhythm after Friday night’s party.
Enid dropped her head into her palms, pressing the warm tips of her fingers against her temple, not bothering to stop the shallow groan that slipped past her lips. Seriously—in this state, Weems would undoubtedly expel her on the spot. Or worse.
Her phone buzzed, sending a vibration against her thigh. Enid reached into her skirt’s pocket, fishing out her phone, guessing it was Yoko again.
Enid rolled her eyes, as she sent the reply, pocketing her phone.
She had failed three math tests. Three. Yea, the first one could’ve been passed as her just being lazy, the second as a party for the excuse, but three? Three was just practically a theme at this point.
The number might as well have been stamped across her forehead.
“Enid?” The door to Weem’s office opened and Mrs. Thornhill stepped out, a friendly smile on her face—a smile that Enid had seen one too many times, which in reality could mean a hundred different things. It was hard to tell. “Weems is ready to see you now.”
Enid nodded once, trying to appear somewhat composed in front of her, before standing up. She ran her palms down her skirt—one of her favorite pink pastel-colored skirts, instead of the usual Nevermore’s uniform skirt—brushing off invisible lint, and plastered a bright smile across her face, heading to the door with borrowed confidence that Enid had convinced herself she had. It would be fine. She wasn’t scared.
Really.
Larissa Weem’s office resembled the space of a woman who thought very highly of herself. Hell, it smelled like nothing else in the school did; something akin to old, crisp books and the expensive perfume that Weems didn’t seem to leave the house without. It probably came from one of those fancy glass bottles that resembled a dragon or some other overcomplicated design, Enid thought. Even for a prestigious school, the office seemed a bit too over the top nice, with a high ceiling, overly large, arched windows and a fireplace that faintly reminded Enid of Medusa. Her large dark oak desk sat in the middle of the room, like a bright lighthouse on top of a lonely mountain, and Weems claimed her spot behind it, looking vaguely threatening.
“Ms. Sinclair.” Weems greeted her the moment Enid closed the door; there was a smile present on her face, however her tone reminded Enid of her brother Fang when he complained about a particular food he didn’t like, yet chose to chew it down anyway. Weems leaned back in her cold, creaking desk chair, hands folded across her chest as she stared Enid down with the look. A look that Enid had come to learn probably meant something along the lines of: You’ve disappointed me.
Enid inhaled sharply, fingers clenching into fists by her side, but she unclenched them due to how sweaty her palms had gotten, then sat down.
“I assume you’re aware as to the reason you’re here today, Ms. Sinclair?”
She swallowed—a sensation that felt more like her skin was getting dragged across sandpaper—then nodded weakly, eyes briefly flicking toward Weems. “Yeah, I do.”
“And then you understand,” Weems continued, tone flat and a bit bored, probably from giving this exact speech to students over and over throughout the years, “that if your test results continue to decline, I will be forced to take action, correct?”
“I understand, yea,” Enid replied, lacing her fingers together in her lap to stop herself from fidgeting. There was a fly somewhere in the room, but Enid didn’t dare to look for it. Instead she glanced at the corner of Weems’ desk—which truthfully felt far safer than staring at Weems directly, because then she would undoubtedly fold. “I’ll do better, I promise.”
Now, Enid knew fairly well that Weems knew that this excuse wouldn’t work. Enid had tried to defend herself with this exact phrase in this particular chair at least… two other times before or something like that and it hadn’t helped her once in any shape or form. True to her character, Weems sighed, not that heavy sigh she always did when something had gone wrong, or when she had to warn people about not making out behind the greenhouse, but rather a sigh that Enid could tell apart from all of the other sighs. Or at least she thought so; this one felt more tired, like Weems wanted to scold her, but didn’t have enough will to do so.
(To be completely transparent with herself, Enid knew she really should have been studying for the math test on Monday, instead of going to Divina’s party—which Yoko had partially talked her into going—and getting so wasted that she’d somehow ended up waking up on someone else’s couch at two pm the next day. During the weekend, math had not felt like something she’d wanted to touch up on.)
“Enid.” Weems picked up a paper on her desk—Enid could see it from where she was sitting, which looked to be her math test, but just the last one she’d failed, judging by all of the red pen that was visible through the page—and looked toward her again. “I like you, Ms. Sinclair. I genuinely do. You’re one of the most capable students at this school if you put your mind to it. Your grades are excellent in almost every subject and people respect you, respect your smile—in a way, your warmth and presence inspires them. That’s the kind of example we need here, Enid.” She set the paper back down. “However, I can not continue to turn a blind eye when you are failing one of the most important subjects at Nevermore for the third time.”
“I know, I know, but let me—”
“I wasn’t finished, Ms. Sinclair.” Weems raised a finger in a manner that made a chill run down Enid’s spine. “So, I’ll cut to the chase: If you do not bring up your mathematics grade, Enid, I will be forced to pursue a formal academic review. Involving the whole board. Trust me, I do not want that and you do not want that as well. Therefore, in the interest of avoiding said outcome for both of our sakes, I’ve taken the liberty of arranging something I’m positive will help you.”
Enid’s stomach lurched; On a scale of feelings, it was the feeling where she’d swear her organs flipped upside down. “I— what kind of ‘something’?”
The corners of Weems’ lips turned up. It was the kind of smile where Enid could tell that whatever was about to follow, wouldn’t be remotely good to anyone. Knowing that Weems had taken theater studies, she probably enjoyed this feeling—pulling the rug under Enid; or curtain in this case. “I’ve arranged a private tutor for you, Enid. Someone with enough exceptional outstanding grades, that I believe it would serve you well, for the duration of the next month. All of the expenses will obviously be covered by the school.”
The silence that followed made Enid feel worse by the second. That specific silence reminded Enid of her childhood when she’d done something bad and Esther was about three seconds away from yelling at her. If she had to choose between the punishments of Weems arranging her a tutor or that one time she’d accidentally walked in on the student council president, Annabel Lee making out with Lenore in the supply closet, which was on the same level of horrible, due to her not being able to unsee that later, then Enid would probably choose the latter.
“A tutor.” Enid echoed flatly, not really being able to voice her thoughts properly. “You.. arranged a tutor for me… without asking me?”
“Without asking you, yes.” Weems confirmed, her smile not wavering one bit. “Frankly, because I had a suspicion, correct as I see now, that you would have initially refused. Whatever you might think of me now won’t change the fact that you need this.. You are too good to let a single subject ruin your future, so I ask you to drop the useless promises and actually take charge of your life, Enid.”
Enid opened her mouth, then closed it; nothing came out. She wanted to say something, anything that would help her and get her out of this situation. She wanted to say that she was managing her own life well enough, having her days filled with actually interesting things and not some tutor that would only humiliate her during lessons. Her other subjects were fine, math was just a dumb one. Fuck math honestly, Enid thought to herself.
She said nothing though.
Instead, Enid settled for: “I have things to do after school. I can’t just—”
“One month, Ms. Sinclair. Four weeks of your time. That’s all I ask. If your grades do improve, as I expect they will, you’ll be free to do as you please after your tutoring lessons will be over. Obviously, you’ll go over the specifics in person, but any schedule is flexible enough; you’ll meet two times a week and arrange specific times yourselves if needed.” Weems finished, leaning down to open her desk drawer, sliding a small black card with neat white lettering across the desk. “There’s all of the information you’ll need.”
(A card, seriously?)
Enid stared at the card for a moment, eyes lingering on the fancy font. Then she looked up at Weems, obviously already watching her like a hawk.
She was cornered. There was no way out. It was either this or a very harsh lesson in life after she got expelled.
“Fine,” Enid replied. She reached for the card, the tips of her fingers grazing its thick material. “One month.”
“Wonderful.” Weems nodded, smile brightening just a bit. “You’re dismissed.”
“And Enid—” She paused, letting the words linger just long enough that Enid had managed to make it to the door. “Do not try to find loopholes here. Commit to it. You’ll thank me later.”
Enid wasn’t sure she would. She held the card but her mind still hadn’t fully caught up to it.
She gently shut the door behind herself, when in reality all she wanted to do was slam it until all of its hinges fell out. This wasn’t something she had aimed to get herself into.
Ajax was waiting outside in the same uncomfortable chair Enid had sat in, lazily sprawled out in it, legs stretched in front of him, almost like this was a trip to the beach or something, scrolling on his phone.
When he heard her footsteps nearby, he looked up and grinned at her; that small yet easy-going grin that Enid had fallen in love with. When she had first met Ajax in one of her classes, they had spent around half the lesson chatting and he’d explained to her how a mathematical theory could be used to predict sports outcomes. Ajax was in many ways, a really good person. He was cool, cute. Like most boys Enid had met. He was kind and always—always, made sure that he texted her back within ten minutes; and not once he had made Enid upset or made her feel bad about herself.
(In the perfect little world, Ajax would be the perfect boyfriend.)
Truthfully, Enid liked him and on many levels she had come to be very fond of him.
She also was currently lying to Ajax about a lot of things in her life. Enid didn’t consider herself to be a liar by nature, but when it came down to it, she told herself she’d just ‘stretch the truth a bit’ on certain occasions, when talking to him.
That, however, would be a problem for future Enid.
“Hey, ‘nid.” He stood up, slipping the phone into his pocket. “How’d it go? You good?”
“Eh, mostly I’d say,” Enid replied with a small chuckle, letting his arm snake around her shoulders as she leaned into his touch. For once she decided to tell the truth, because it would be hard to explain her disappearances later on. “She did assign me a tutor tho…”
“Oh.” Ajax exhaled and Enid held back an eyeroll. “That's bad I assume?”
“Oh, very bad.” Enid agreed. “Exteremly bad!”
“Dude, okay, but hear me out,” He pulled her closer as he began to lead her down the hallway. “Tutors are kinda like great actually. My third cousin on my moms side got one for lit, and she said it was basically some chad explaining the same thing in fifteen ways until she finally understood.”
Enid giggled. “That.. sounds like torture honestly!”
“But—” Ajax held up his other hand, “She passed at the end.”
Yeah, Enid really wasn’t getting out of this one, was she?
She looked down at the black card in her hand. It looked handwritten, but at the same time it looked like a font. Clean. W.A. Below that a classroom number and a phone number. Enid flipped the card over, but there was nothing on the back. Just those three things.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” Enid nodded solemnly, “Just— thinking.”
Ajax blinked. “Well, don’t overthink yourself, dude, that can be like totally bad.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Enid rolled her eyes, shoving the black card into the pocket of her skirt. “C’mon, we’ll miss classes if we don’t hurry up.”
Ajax grinned at her, then leaned down to kiss her. “As you say, Enid, as you say.”
(Enid kissed him back with a smile and tried to not let her thoughts wander to the card in her pocket.)