Things Have Changed

"It's because of her. I thought that if she knew I was leaving, she'd pretend to be okay, and I wouldn't be able to help her properly."

"But you're helping her by being there for her, aren't you?"

"I thought I could be, but what if knowing I'm leaving makes her put up walls? What if she shuts me out even more? I'd made the same mistakes before... maybe not in the same way. But I don't want to repeat that same thing. It's not that I've suddenly become stronger or that something has changed. My hands are still shaking. But I'll still give it one last try... I'm asking myself if I'm strong enough or not, because in the end, none of us want to have any regrets."

The next few days settled into their usual routine. John and Adica continued their relationship, leaving me with Emma during the long and often tedious club hours. Despite the silence that hung between us, it was a nice chance for me to focus on my upcoming semester exams, which are looming just around the corner. Without the crutch of group study sessions or Adica's assistance this time, I knew I had to rely solely on my own efforts.

It was another usual day. Emma, as you'd expect, was slouched over the table, her head resting on her arms, and her disheveled hair obscuring her face. It was what I liked to call the "classic Emma pose." I approached her, gently shaking her shoulder to rouse her from her slumber. "Emma, it's time to wake up. We should get some studying done."

Emma's eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me with a mix of annoyance and sleepiness. "Do you have to be so loud, Reol?"

Suppressing a chuckle, I responded, "My apologies, Emma. But we can't waste this time."

She let out a long yawn, stretching her arms lazily. "Alright, alright. I guess you're right. I should study too."

I was genuinely surprised. "You want to study?" I inquired, my curiosity getting the best of me. She sent a frustrated glance my way, as if my question was the silliest thing she'd ever heard. "Of course, I want to study. I'm not completely lazy, you know. I have to keep my grades up as well."

"Alright then. How did you do on the last test?"

Emma's expression shifted, her gaze dropping to the table. "Well, I got a pretty decent score, I think."

"Decent? How decent?"

"I got an A."

"An A?" I could hardly believe my ears. Emma, the same girl who always seemed disinterested in schoolwork... even she had managed to score an A on her last test. "You got an A?" I repeated, still in shock.

"Yeah," she replied, somewhat defensively. "What did you take me for, anyway?"

"Never mind."

I recentered my sight back towards the daunting math problems sprawled across my desk. The numbers and symbols seemed to dance before me, refusing to make any sense. I let out a sigh. "Who even invented these?" Even my mind's a jumbled mess right now, unable to grasp the new material thrown at me in class. It was as if a dense fog had settled in my brain, obscuring any hope of understanding. It's really overwhelming, like being lost in a sea of equations and concepts.

As I attempted to solve the first problem, doubt crept in like an unwelcome guest. Where should I even begin? My pencil hovered over the paper, hesitant and unsure. Damn, I can't afford to fall behind, not now, not when the exams are looming.

And just like that, the exam day arrived, and my fears became real. My results were much worse than before. It was a bitter pill to swallow... how am I going to show this to my mother? She's going to be mad again!

It's like the universe has made a pact to pelt me with problems for absolutely no reason. Just when I thought I was finally done with those less-than-stellar exams, they decided to throw in these teacher-student meetings too. And of course, they had to schedule them right smack in the middle of everything, precisely when I needed a breather. Seriously, can't I catch a break? The last thing I want is my teacher to be reciting my grades in front of my other with me all shackled up like a death inmate with all his charges being read out.

My mother sat beside me in the small meeting room, with almost no light invited by the narrow gaps between the window shades. The only light bulb glowing up just gave the room an even eerier setting to cut my nerves in half. Well, the only good thing I could think of is Mr. Clair, our class advisor, sitting right across, his eyes scanning the report card that held the damning evidence of my recent academic "success."  

"Reol, I remember that the grades of your previous exams were mentionable better?"

When did he see my past results... "Yeah." I nodded, trying to appear attentive, even though my mind was anything but a whirlpool right now. My mother, on the other, seemed unusually silent, only nodding a few times to Mr. Clair's words.

He continued, "Your grades have seen a significant drop, particularly in math and science. What do you think are the reasons? Feel free to tell, after all, we're here to understand the reasons behind this decline and to help you get back on track."

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach as he mentioned my grades. After all, I had no explanation other than the overwhelming difficulty of the new material.

"I've also reviewed your recent tests and assignments," Mr. Clair continued, "and it appears that you've been having trouble grasping some of the key concepts in these subjects. Is there something specific that's been causing these difficulties?" My mind raced for a reasonable explanation. I couldn't simply tell them that the material was too advanced for me. I needed to find another way to convey my struggles. "Well," I began, "the pace of the new material has been quite fast, and I've been finding it challenging to keep up."

Mr. Clair scribbled a note on a piece of paper. "I see. Sometimes, a faster pace can indeed pose challenges. Reol, have you been seeking help when you encounter difficulties?"

"Seeking help...?" Hearing him, my thoughts started flickering to the missed study sessions with the group from the end of summer break. "I have tried, but it's not always easy to get the help I need outside of class."

My mother, who had been silent all the way through, finally spoke up with a hint of apology. "I'm truly sorry for Reol's recent academic performance, Mr. Clair. I should have been even more strict with him. I promise to ensure he dedicates more time to his studies from now on."

"It's not entirely your fault, Mrs. Wright. Students sometimes face difficulties in their studies, and it's our role to guide them through these challenges."

"No, I believe I need to do more. Perhaps he should consider leaving that club of his. It's clear that it's been a distraction."

"Um..." I tried to put a word in... but I couldn't even look into my mother's eyes. Mr. Clair's response was swift, as he seemed to share my sentiment. "Mrs. Wright, Reol has been doing quite well in the club. In fact, he received a prize for his performance in the literature festival. It's an achievement we should encourage."

My mother leaned in on the table, fixing her gaze firmly on Mr. Clair. "Mr. Clair, I appreciate your concern for Reol's education, but it's evident that his grades are slipping, and he's devoting just too much time to that club of his."

I swallowed hard, the weight of their words pressing upon me. I wanted to explain, to defend the club I was so passionate about, but my mother's stern glare stifled my words. What should I do now? How could I make her understand?

"Maybe, once he makes improvements in his grades, he can think about rejoining the club. It's just that these awards from the club don't seem important if his grades keep going down."

I watched the exchange silently, my heart sinking bit by bit with every word they uttered. But the words I longed to say remained trapped within me, suffocated by the weight of expectations.

To her, these accomplishments seemed trivial now. Perhaps if it were in my childhood, when she still paid attention, or when I relentlessly sought her approval... maybe then, things would have taken a different turn. But not now. Whatever I did at this point... it seemed devoid of significance.

But compared to back then, why couldn't I speak up...? Things have changed, and that's what makes the difference.

"Mrs. Wright, I do understand your concerns, but may I share my perspective as Reol's teacher?"

Some people now accept me for who I am... things have changed now.

"Reol is a unique student, not necessarily in terms of academics, but he's incredibly hardworking. The club he's a part of, although it may appear as a distraction, has brought out the best in him. As his parent, you don't need to supervise his every move. It's his choice, his path to follow; it's his life."

"But I'm afraid he might get hurt if he's left to make his own decisions!"

Mr. Clair continued, "Yes, you're absolutely right. Kids will make mistakes. They'll stumble, get bruised, and shed tears. But they'll also grow. That pain is part of their growth. As a parent, you can't prevent it. What you can do is watch over him from a distance, and when he's hurt, extend a helping hand. When he makes a mistake, guide him. Isn't that what parents are for, after all?"