Chapter 3 Help Needed

Jayden Park Point of View.

I was full of hatred for her, but I would think about revenge later. Now I had to run to the nearest bathroom and clean my clothes as much as possible so that the principal wouldn't notice that I was dirty. After a lot of effort, I think I managed to get most of the dirt off and left the room, heading straight for Miss Clark's office. I got there a few minutes late thanks to that insufferable Rachel, and soon her secretary told me I could go in.

"Late as usual, right Mister Park?" Miss Clark remarked dryly as I entered.

I gave a half-hearted smile, and she signaled for me to sit in one of the chairs opposite her. Miss Clark was always serious; she always wore the same gray dress suit, with black shoes without heels, and her gray hair was always tied up in a bun. She looked at my report card once again.

"Look, Mister Park, your situation is difficult. I would say almost impossible. Even if, by some miracle, you were to get a second chance to retake the exams, do you think you would have the knowledge to get full marks in all the subjects?" she questioned.

"Of course!" I replied confidently.

"Alone, without any help and under my supervision right now?" she pressed further.

I widened my eyes, not knowing what to say.

"That's what I thought. Unfortunately, it looks like I won't be able to help you," she concluded.

Desperation overtook me, and before I knew it, I was practically begging the older woman for a second chance.

"Miss Clark, please, I'll do anything!" I pleaded desperately.

"Mister Park, as much as I'd like to help you, it's impossible for you to learn the whole semester's subject. There are eight subjects, not to mention that all students have mandatory extracurricular hours," she explained sternly.

"What?" I gasped in shock.

"Every student has to do at least forty hours of extracurricular activities, and you, Mister Park, don't have any," Miss Clark elaborated.

"Please, Miss Clark, I'm begging you," I implored, my voice trembling with desperation.

She looked at me as if she didn't know what to do.

"Mister Park, you would have to do at least four hours of tutoring every day of the week with our tutor to be able to take the subject, and you would have to commit all your weekends until the end of the summer to be able to fulfill the hours. It would be very demanding and even then, it's not certain that you'd be able to do it," she laid out the harsh reality.

"No problem! I want to try it anyway!" I insisted determinedly.

She watched me as if gauging my level of desperation and then pressed a button to ask her secretary for help.

"Mary, get Miss Jennings in here, please," Miss Clark instructed her secretary.

"Yes, madam, just a minute," Mary responded.

"If there's anyone who can help you, it's Miss Jennings. She's the most experienced in student tutoring, as well as being captain of our debating team. She's also responsible for the students' extracurricular activities, so she can get you the lessons you need to complete your hours. It's with her help that you might have a chance," Miss Clark explained, hopefully.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but my peace soon ended when an irritatingly familiar voice burst into the boardroom.

"Miss Clark? You called me?" Rachel interrupted.

"Yes, Miss Jennings, I have a student here in need of urgent tutoring and additional hours," Miss Clark explained to her.

She smiled, but when she laid eyes on me, her smile faded.

"His case seems impossible at first glance, but I think that with your help, he can escape failing," Miss Clark continued optimistically.

Rachel gave a victorious smile as if she had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

"Unfortunately, Miss Clark, I lost my job today, and I'll be too busy looking for a job to be able to teach," Rachel informed us.

Miss Clark's face, which had once been hopeful, now seemed to accept defeat as she watched Rachel leave.

"Mister Park, Miss Jennings was your last hope," Miss Clark sighed.

"It's not possible! There must be some other way," I protested desperately.

"There isn't! Your best chance now is to try and convince Miss Jennings to help you. She had never refused to help anyone before," Miss Clark advised me.

I stared at the older woman, and she pointed to the door. I left and walked dejectedly through the corridors of the university. I had to find a way to convince that insufferable woman to help me. Even though I hated her, I knew she was the only one there intelligent enough to really help me. I decide to look for her but realize that I have no idea where to find her, so I go back to the directorate and ask her. Some time later, I sneak into the room where she's having an economics lesson, and she's surprised when I sit down in the chair next to her.

"What are you doing here, you idiot?" Rachel snaps at me.

"Look, I know you hate me, and you're right, but I really need your help. I can't fail you," I pleaded desperately.

"That's not my problem!" Rachel retorted sharply.

"Please, Rach!" I implored.

"Do you know my name? Because, as far as I can remember, you've always called me sausage water, firecracker hair, freckled," Rachel reminds me bitterly.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry," I apologize sincerely.

"Apologies aren't going to get me my job back," Rachel stated firmly.

"Why are you so mad? It was just a crappy little job in a diner," I try to downplay it.

"Yes, but that's what paid my rent and my bills. Not everyone has a rich family, some people have to work to keep a roof over their heads," Rachel retorts, her tone bitter with resentment.

For a minute, she sounded like my father. Even though we were talking quietly, we were already attracting the attention of the teacher, who was occasionally frowning at me.

"Look, I can pay you for the lessons," I offered.

"Not for all the money in the world," Rachel refused adamantly.

"Come on, Rachel," I coaxed.

"You really don't realize how much you've hurt me today, do you?" Rachel laughed bitterly, disbelief evident in her tone.

"Look, I've apologized," I defended myself.

"I told you," Rachel countered.

"I know an apology isn't going to get you your job back. But I can pay you very well if you help me," I tried to persuade her.

"Kid, get something through your head. I'm not going to help you. Stay away from me!" Rachel raised her voice a little, and the teacher stared at us, his voice invading the room.

"Is there a problem, Miss Jennings?" the teacher inquires.

"Yes, Professor, that student is not in this class, and he's bothering me," Rachel complains.

"Sir, please leave," the teacher instructs me sternly.