Chapter Text
An F.
She’s done every drug under the sun, died, did it again, died again, came back, got cheated on, almost ruined her life, barely managed to graduate and somehow had gotten to the point where she found herself at community college, but this might’ve been the worst day of her life.
Rue had worked hard to get the point she was at now. Endless therapy appointments, skipping out on an actual college experience, rebuilding a relationship with her mother and sister, and simply trying to stay out of trouble. It was a lot harder than it sounded. She had gotten through the first two years with a solid B-C minimum, which truly, everyone should be happy about considering her brain was physically dead, twice.
But this was her first F. They told her she had to get a foreign language credit and while most people would’ve been fine jumping into Spanish 1001, by the time Spanish rolled around in high school curriculum, she was barely there. They basically had to make up credits just for her to graduate high school and now she was paying for it.
The red F stared back at her like a gun; at this point she might’ve preferred a gun. She didn’t even hear the pitter of her fellow students as they filed out into the hall and dispersed.
A shadow casts in front of her. Her eyes looked up through her lashes to her teacher, nervous to fully commit to eye contact.
“You know, you could always get a tutor. I would be willing to let you take it again, if you show that you are trying.” Ms. Padilla told her. “Spanish can be difficult for those just starting at your age. I am going to give you my nieces email, she’s minoring in Spanish and is fluent. She’s around your age. I’m sure after a few meetings, I am sure you will pass this.”
Rue knows she has no choice, this school is her only choice, and Spanish was the one thing holding her back. She nodded with a polite smile on her face as she packed up her things. Before she even had her bag over her shoulder, a ding came from her phone.
ONE NEW E-MAIL
She held back her sigh and smiled back once again before leaving out into the empty hallway. Beaten converse takes her down to the elevator where she pulls out her phone to take a moment to look at what the professor had sent her. The elevator dings and she steps in and heads down past the ground floor and to the parking lot.
Good Evening, Rue!
I just know you’re going to excel with some extra help! Please send my niece an email and reach out! She’s expecting you! I included her email below and I am excited to see your improvement in class! You’ve got this!
[email protected] is her email!
Have a good day, Rue!
Professor Padilla
She read it to herself over and over and over again. Something was on the tip of her tongue, and she couldn’t figure it out. Shrugging it off, discounting it as post F anxiety, she stuffs her phone in her baggy jean pockets and heads to her car.
Upon getting home to her studio, she was greeted by Lexi and Fez in the apartment; legs sprawled over each other as they watched TV in comfortable silence, some documentary that’ll probably leave Fez confused and Lexi in tears. A sigh left her lips; her backpack fell from her shoulder, and onto the ground. Lexi attempted to call her over but Rue mouthed ‘homework’ and went right to her room with the door closed.
Sitting down at her desk, she opened her laptop and went right to her emails yet again. Pulling it up, she stared at the other email attached along with New Mail to start up in the corner. She sent a semi-professional email to the other and hit the send in a breeze, not wanting to think about it too much. Spinning around in her desk chair, she debated between her gym bag and her bed.
School wasn’t supposed to be hard, she had been through life and death situations, and a language class is going to be the reason she’s in debt... again. Her eyes found the clock; it was only 6:18, and she was ready to lay down for the night. With the lack of extra-curricular activities, she found herself with an immanent amount of free time. The only homework she had was connecting with this tutor and she did all she could do. She had pushed herself at the gym the other day when everyone was out for Halloween and there were some battles she chose not to fight.
Before she could make up her mind, the familiar ding interrupted her thoughts. Another spin brings her to the email screen she next closed. Another new email and a new realization.
She could feel her stomach sink as she read the email.
Hey Rue-Rue!
I hate how formal you made this.
Why don’t you text me like a normal person and we can find a day that works for me and you. Don’t email me again. Werido.
Cuídate,
Madeleine Perez
P.S. I have the same number.
As if she already didn’t feel like an idiot.
She hadn’t seen Maddy in... a long time. After high school everyone did their own things and Rue was just trying to get to a point where she wanted to survive. The only reason she was caught up with anyone was because of Lexi. Cassie and Nate are on again, for now. The kid in the gold shorts got his first role on Broadway. That’s all she’s got.
Maddy graduated and got out of dodge, as far as Rue knew. She didn’t know when she got back, how long she’d been back, or when she became fluent in Spanish. How much did she really miss?
Now she had to text her, start a conversation, and ask for something from her. The last time they talked, she was drugged out the Howards steps and started the beginning of the end for a lot of friendships and relationships inside of those high school walls. Things had changed, she had changed, and Maddy had probably changed too... right?
She could feel her chest weighing heavy, and her hand clutched her phone. This tutor situation was already a headache and now she had to play the dreadful game of communication with an old... friend? Would she know it was her? Did she introduce herself...again?
Finding Maddy's name in her phone, she clicked on the contact and stared at it for a moment before clicking the messages. Old messages appeared, mostly about drugs, some wya, and a couple questions about homework. She knew staying so close to home would bring some awkward encounters, but this one felt like she was thrown into an abyss of anxiety.
Above all else, Maddy was, and she was sure, still is, stunning. She had never been good at conversation, especially with girls. Her ‘charm’ was all drug masked confidence, and she hadn’t had much action since getting sober. She was back to babbling and tripping over herself before making too much eye contact or not enough.
Her phone screen lit up, keyboard taunting her.
Hey Maddy! Her fingers tapped, only erasing it quicker than she typed it. Why so excited?
Hey, It’s Rue. She’s expecting this text, does she introduce herself?
Hey, I’m free Friday whenever we can meet up for tutoring! Jesus who was she? Lexi?
Hey. Not finished, no information, very ominous but the send button found her thumb and it sent before she had a moment to process it. By the time she did, Maddy was typing.
Rue-Rue!
I am free Friday, are you free Friday?
Friday works. Lexi works, want to come over?
Sure, I’ll be there at 4. Make food.
Okay, I’ll see you at 4, with food.
Maddy reacted to your message!
Another realization.
She had to clean her room. Soon.