I pull out the contracts in the envelope that Gabrielle gave me and look over the pages. My future is there in black and white. “Do you wish to take these back?” I ask her, ignoring Mr Trainor’s furrowed brow. He’ll figure out what they are soon enough.
Gabrielle offers me her pen. I smile softly in thanks and relief. She’s seen through whatever this is, too. I take her pen and sign my name on all three copies of the transfer scripts.
“Something I should point out though,” I add once I’ve handed the pen back to Gabrielle. “Those may be my assignments, but never once were they graded or handed back with red notes. That’s not the nature of the marking system at VCC. My tutors posted my grade on the Business & Law forum boards, along with everyone else’s. They sent any personal feedback or notes straight to my inbox. I have a copy of every note given, and every grade earned and none of those—” I point to the pile in front of Gabrielle, “—correspond with the grades I received.”
Trainor’s face glows red. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“It’s also unusual for assignments written over the course of six months to all be graded by the same red pen and with the same handwriting. There are four different tutor’s assignments sitting there, but only one style of handwriting across all the folders.”
“What are you implying?” he snaps, glaring at me, but even that’s a front. I can see fear all over him; In the way his hand trembles, the way he can’t look me directly in the eyes, and in the beads of sweat gathering across his forehead.
“That one person, a single someone, defaced my assignments,” I say boldly and lean across the table. I swipe my thumb across the first sheet I can reach and am relieved when it smudges. My theory is right on the money. “And someone did it just recently,” I add, staring impassively at Mr Trainor.
He grits his teeth together, his jaw flexing under the unshaved scruff.
“Oh look, we match.” I laugh jovially, pointing out the similar red smudge across his index finger and spoiled white cuff. The corner of Gabrielle’s mouth twitches before she reins it in again.
“Mr Trainor?” she asks, inviting him to explain himself. Only he can’t.
“VCC can’t afford to lose any of its students. Especially not one like Miss Feelan,” he announces, changing course. “I’d hoped I could convince you she wasn’t right for HU.”
“Why?” Gabrielle demands. “She’s one student.”
“She’s a potential success story. A soon to be valuable alumni. An asset,” he volleys, and with urgency too. He genuinely believes what he’s saying, but it doesn’t make sense.
“Well, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I gave you every chance to help me access my modules and complete my degree with you,” I fire back.
“And we’ve let you down,” he concedes, but his sympathy is as fake as his anger. “But you know we’re ill-equipped…”
“HU can provide what I need now. Not next year.” I’m pushing the point, trying to get to the crux of things. The why.
“Where is your loyalty?” he rolls back into attack mode. “You’re a Vale girl! You should be proud to represent our establishment. Did you even apply for HU originally?”
He expects me to say no. Only an idiot would apply to HU if they come from the Vale. They’re a pipe dream for us. But I wanted to see if it was possible. If I’d been born anywhere else, would I have had a chance? So yeah. I applied.
“Yes,” I admit.
“She was accepted, too,” Gabrielle adds, surprising me. I never received an acceptance letter. I errantly wonder if it was Eric or Mum who hid the letter from me?
“So, in the end, it came down to money?” Trainor nods to himself, guessing correctly. “It’s always about money.”
He’s right. Even with the acceptance letter, I’d have still chosen VCC because it was the best I could afford. “You said it yourself, I’m a Vale girl. I worked hard for every penny to earn my tuition fees and books. I struggled to achieve what you callously tried to destroy.” I nod my head to the assignments still splayed out on the table. “Now, I’d like you to sign the transfer papers, please. After today, there’s no way I’m coming back to VCC. You’ve just proven you’ve noloyaltyto me.”
Gabrielle completes the honour of sliding the paperwork towards Mr Trainor. He belligerently snatches a pen from his top pocket and signs in bright red ink, staring straight at me as he does so, as if inviting me to comment on it. I don’t need to. He’s just proven my point.
“Well, our business seems to be concluded. Remember to sign into your HU account when you can, Jules. I’ll send a digital copy of the form to you too, for your guardian.” I’m guessing she’s subtly referring to Dax. Gabrielle hands out our respective copies with a tight smile. I fold mine in half and slide it into the prospectus envelope before standing up.
“Thank you both so much for your time. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leaving first.” Gabrielle nods kindly. Mr Trainor’s face contorts ashe opens his mouth to say something more, but I’m already walking toward the back of the store and the bathrooms.
I need a minute. Just a quick minute to get my head on straight before I get out of here.
I come to a stop in front of the bathroom mirrors. I attach the shoulder strap to my handbag and shove the paperwork inside before swinging it across my body, then run the tap and splash water on my face. My mascara slides down my face, reminding me of the makeup I put on today. I pat myself dry and try to fix what I can while my head becomes a tumble dryer, spinning everything around and around until my temples pound with the rhythm of the imaginary drum.
I can’t believe what just happened out there. Who would go to such extremes? Why? And the whole success thing was a bullshit line if I ever heard one. Why would someone openly jeopardise a person’s future in that way? Did he get commission on passing students? Pay increases based on how many students they pushed through the system? And why try to keep someone you clearly can’t be bothered teaching? I hadn’t asked for the world. Just to work from home. A couple of emails a week and video of the lectures. Damn it, I even asked for a transcript or lesson plan. We all knew the professors used them. They barely lifted their eyes from the pages they read from most weeks. How hard was that to provide?
No. Trainor was sketchy. VCC was sketchy too.
But I guess they weren’t my concern anymore.
