Change Your Ticket

Now that Josylne and I were back on good terms, I figured it was time to make amens with Max. Though, Max was a lot harder to persuade than Josylne. He wasn’t just going to accept my apology for not talking to him for weeks especially ‘cause I had no real reason to not be talking to him all this time. 

Since I had an hour before my next class I decided it was no or never, plus school had already ended at Mass High for the day. I dialed the familiar number before listening to the dial tone. Thankfully, Max answered on the third ring. 

“It’s about time Daniels.” 

“I know you probably don’t want to talk to me. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.” 

“Quite the opposite really, if you had let me talk to you weeks ago the mess with Jos never would have escalated like it did.” 

“Something good did come out of it though. I got to see Josylne.” 

“She would have flown herself out there even if you weren’t fighting, trust me,” Max chuckled. 

“True,” I paused. “So we’re good then?” 

“Yeah we’re good.” 

“That’s a relief, so how’s the good ole’ Mass High team doing?” 

For the next hour Max and I caught up with each other. He filled me on how the Mass High season was going and despite Jos’s injury they were still projected to make it to semis in a few weeks. He also updated me on the chaos the girls — namely my sister — were causing because of Winter Formal. Which reminded me of a very important fact that had slipped my mind. Josylne and I’s one year anniversary — if you could call it that, we had broken up a few times since then. 

“Are you going to make it back for formal?” 

“Honestly, it depends on our game schedule but don’t tell Josylne I said that. I haven’t talked to her about it and its kind of a big deal ‘cause our anniversary is a couple days before.” 

By the time Max and I hung up the phone I had only fifteen minutes to get to my class.  Thankfully the close to my dorm and not across the campus like a majority of my classes. Sometimes I wondered if the school was designed to make the students walk a lot, cause it sure seemed that way.

Biology was not a class I was interested but it was a class I was stuck with taking. As if the subject itself wasn’t bad enough the professor was some elderly women who whispered in a giant lecture class. Even if I had chose to sit in the front row I still wouldn’t have been able to hear her.

At some point during the hour and a half lecture class I managed to fall asleep. And I’m talking full on snoring sleep not like those cute cat naps everyone is always raving about taking while they’re in class. I was only awoke when the kid next to be tapped my shoulder, and the only reason he woke me up was cause the professor advised the entire class to wake up any sleeping students.

“I’m just going to leave you all with one final announcement before I dismiss class,” the professor said, only raising her voice an octave to ensure everyone could hear her. “Finals are approaching and as several of you already know you need a C to pass this class. I will be emailing several of you over tonight on whether I advise you to drop this class or not. Class dismissed.”
I thanked the kid sitting next to me for waking me up before heading out of the class and back to my dorm room. I was a little unnerved by the news I had just been given. Never had I heard of a professor telling a student to drop a class instead of failing it, but then again this was only my worst semester in school. I knew I wasn’t doing great in biology but I figured I had at least been holding a C.

The first thing I did when I got back to my dorm was log onto my school email. She had said she would be emailing students later that night but when I saw an email from her in my inbox I knew I was screwed. My thoughts were only confirmed when I opened it revealing a letter advising me to nap less in class and drop the course, seeing as I was going to need a ninety on the exam to bring my grade up.

I was use to cutting it close in classes back in high school. Sure I was smart but with the amount of time I spent practicing my grades always came second. Of course, I always managed to pull my grades up. Coach use to praise me for coming in clutch in those types of situations but pulling a ninety on a biology exam was something I wasn’t sure I could do.

Instead of making a rash decision I called Josylne. She’d know what to do in this situation, she always knew what to do when it came to school .

“Hey you,” she greeted.

“Hey Jos. So I’m kind of in the middle of a situation and I need your help.”

“Is there ever a situation you don’t need my help on?” she teased. “What’s up this time.”

I told her what my professor had said today in class after I had to be woken up by a student before reading the email I had received by the time I got back to my dorm. In typical Josylne fashion, she helped me way the pros and cons of the situation.

“Maybe you could get a tutor or something? Or just drop it, is a drop better than a fail?”

“I’d have to check but the sounds of it, it is. I don’t think it effects my GPA.”

“Are you failing anything else?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then what’s the risk of staying in it? If you fail it won’t completely hurt your GPA. You’d still get to play football and who knows, maybe you’d pass and not have to retake the class.”

“You’re so good with figuring this stuff out,” I complimented.

“If only I could figure out my own life,” she sighed.

I knew Josylne had been having trouble figuring out what she wanted to do after high school. And from the looks of it she wasn’t going to be applying to any four year schools with all of their deadlines quickly approaching.

“You’ll figure it out,” I promised.

“We’ve been saying that since August and now it’s December and I have yet to submit any college application let alone pick what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

“So maybe college isn’t for you. Have you looked into some of the art schools in Mass? You love photography.”

“I love lots of things,” she groaned. “But none of them are things I can make a living off of.”

“Who cares about how much money your making. Study and work for something you love, you’ll be happier that way.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re going to end up getting drafter to a big NFL team. You won’t have to worry about money.”

“And if that happens, you won’t have to worry about money either,” I said. “Just think about going to photography school, okay?”

“I’ll think about it.”