Move (Club Kitten Dancers #1)(5)

I take a deep breath.

“If you want to come see me during my office hours, we can discuss a rewrite,” Scranton says. His voice grates on me.

“A rewrite?” I didn’t realize he offered those in his classes.

“You can’t earn higher than a ‘C’ on a rewritten paper, but if you’re willing to revise the entire thing and come up with new sources to back up your arguments, I’d be willing to read it.”

This paper is worth 10% of my total grade and a “C” isn’t much better than a “D.” Still, it won’t hurt to try, and the way Scranton is looking at me, I have a feeling he’s not really giving me much of a choice.

“Of course,” I say, trying not to sound glum. “A rewrite sounds great.”

“Perfect. I’ll be in my office from 3:30 to 5:00 this afternoon.”

“See you then.”

I turn and leave the room, trying not to cry as I make my way out of the classroom. I worked really, really hard on that essay and there’s no way it deserved the grade he gave me. Still, I need to look at things positively, right?

This gives me a chance to work on my writing skills and that’s what I want: I want to be a writer.

Even if Scranton doesn’t see my potential, I see it.

Ignoring the way he makes me feel, I grab some food on campus and mess around on my phone until it’s time to meet Scranton. When I head into his office, I’m not shocked to see my mother hurrying out, looking disheveled.

Gross.

Was she here for a nooner? Really?

I slip back around the corner and luckily, she heads in the opposite direction and doesn’t see me. Good. The last thing I want to do is deal with her drama. My mom did her best raising me as a single mother, but sometimes I wish she hadn’t dated so much while I was a teenager. My mom is really insecure and tends to go from guy-to-guy and relationship-to-relationship.

I’m not more upset about her and Scranton because I know it’s not going to last the semester. My biggest concern, sadly, is that they’ll break up right before finals and he’ll take out his frustration on my grade.

I knock at the door to his office and Scranton opens it quickly. He seems surprised to see me. Did he think I was Mom again?

“Oh, it’s, uh, you.”

I nod, looking pointedly at the large clock on the wall.

“3:30, right?”

“Yes, uh, that’s right. Come on in.”

The room smells like sex and moldy books. Gross. How is Scranton still teaching here? I know it’s nearly impossible to fire professors, but come on, now. I manage to find my way to a chair amongst the clutter of books, papers, and trinkets scattered throughout his office. I hope this isn’t where he and my mother just… I shudder at the thought and push it from my head.

“So, my paper,” I yank it from my bag. “What pointers do you have?”

***

“He said what?” Kasey shrieks when I get home and tell her about my day.

“He said it’s crap. He said I’ll never be a writer. Oh, and he said I have to choose a new topic and start from scratch.”

“That’s not how a rewrite works!” Kasey protests, and I shrug.

“I went to my advisor and he told me to shove it. It’s not like I’m being forced to do the rewrite. I just don’t want to be stuck with a ‘D’ in the class.”

“You won’t be. He’ll grade on a curve. I’ve had him before. He always grades on a curve.” Kasey seems certain. She’s a sophomore, so she knows a little more when it comes to the professors.

“I just don’t want to deal with him.”

“Or your mom.”

“That, too.” I get up from the couch and grab a bag of carrots from the fridge. I pour a little portion of dressing into a bowl and come back over. Kasey reaches for a carrot and dips it in the salad dressing.

“Mmm,” she groans, crunching on it. “I don’t know why people don’t like vegetables.”

I resist the urge to slap her.

“Let’s just be honest. It’s not like they taste like cookies.”

We’re both trying to be healthier, though. Kasey wants to compete in the Darling Dancers competition that Club Kitten is sponsoring at the end of the year. It’s not until November and right now it’s mid-February, so she’s got plenty of time to prepare.

The competition showcases the talents of girls at every level. She thinks I should try out for the level one talent showcase. Try-outs will be intense, though, I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I have what it takes. I think I’m as good as some of the other girls, but I don’t know if I’d want to dance in front of a group of people.

Dancing in front of my friends is one thing, but a crowd of people?

I’m not so sure about that.

The competition takes place at one of the local dance clubs. They’ll clear the club out, add some removable poles, and let the dancers do their thing. I watched a video online from last year’s performance and it was insanely amazing. I know it’s important to start planning your moves early so you’ll have months upon months to perfect your routine, but still…

I don’t know if I’m cut out for performing.

“I have to go to work,” Kasey says, pushing the carrots away. She hops up, grabs her keys, and wiggles her fingers. “See you later, cutie.”