His lips form a straight line. “Hmm.”
“She looks familiar to me,” Molly shakes her head, letting out a sigh. “I can’t tell why.”
I force a smile, my stomach knotting up. “Well, I just have one of those faces.”
“Don’t think so.” Calvin’s voice is barely audible.
I want to press, unsure of how he means it, but instead, I just pull out my copy of Molly’s essay. “Anyway, let’s talk about your essay.”
Molly straightens in her chair, fingers lacing together in her lap. “I—I didn’t think it was that bad,” she says quietly. “I mean, I followed the prompt.”
“You did,” I say gently, tapping the paper once. “And that’s important. But following the prompt and fully engaging with the text are two different things.”
Bullshit. It’s all bullshit.
Calvin doesn’t move, but I feel his attention sharpen on me, once more. I’m under a freaking microscope right now, and as much as I want to scream at him to tell me where the hell my brother is…
I keep my mouth shut. And my thighs clenched.
I slide the essay closer to Molly, angling it so she can see the red marks. “Your summary of the plot is solid. You clearly understand what happens inRomeo and Juliet. Where the essay falls short is in the analysis.”
Molly frowns. “The analysis?”
“Yes,” I continue, ignoring the cotton feeling in my mouth as Calvin shifts in my peripheral. “You make some interesting observations—about impulsiveness, about young love—but you don’t quite push them far enough. For example, here.” I point to a paragraph near the middle. “You mention fate, but you never commit to an argument about whether fate actually controls the characters, or whether they use it as an excuse for their choices.”
“Oh,” she murmurs. “I thought that was kind of implied.”
“It can’t be implied,” I gain confidence. “At this level, you have to be explicit. You need a clear thesis and consistent textual evidence to support it.”
Calvin shifts his weight against the door and this time actually opens his mouth. “So… you’re saying it’s not wrong. Just underdeveloped.”
I glance at him and then away, as my cheeks heat up, managing a nod. “Exactly. There are also a few technical issues—run-on sentences, inconsistent citations, and some paragraphs that drift from the main point. None of that is unusual,” I add quickly, meeting Molly’s eyes again. “But taken together, it shows you need more guidance than this essay demonstrates.”
Molly’s shoulders slump. “I’ve never failed an essay before.”
“I know. I’m sure you haven’t,” I say, keeping my voice calm and measured. “And that’s why I wanted to meet with you. I don’t think this reflects your ability. I think it reflects that you’re capable of more than what’s on the page. I think you’re really bright, highly intelligent, and driven.”
She hesitates. “So… is there anything I can do to get better, or will my writing always be a weakness?”
“There is something we can do,” I reply, right on cue. “I offer one-on-one tutoring for students who want to strengthen their analytical writing. We can go over how to build a stronger thesis, how to integrate quotes effectively, and how to deepen your interpretations.”
Molly looks relieved, immediately letting out a heavy breath. “That would really help. I don’t want this to happen again. I can’t fail. I’ll never get into law school.”
“Then even more reason to work on it,” I say, feeling some of the tension slip from my body. “You’re clearly dedicated. This is just about refining your approach, and if you want to be a lawyer, it’s all about the approach.”
From behind her, Calvin’s voice cuts in, gruff and intimidating. “And the grade, Dr. Williams, how about that?”
“This essay stands as is,” I answer evenly. “But improvement moving forward can absolutely impact her overall performancein the course. I don’t think it would be fair to have you redo this, as I wasn’t present for the lectures. However, I’m sure there’s bonus work available.”
There’s a beat of silence. Calvin’s eyes narrow slightly, his jaw tightening. “I don’t usually see the reason to let anyone just fail when they’re clearly trying,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Especially not my kid.”
I feel a prickling at the back of my neck, the heat of his gaze like it could sear through steel. “I understand your concern,” I say, forcing my voice to remain level. “But this isn’t personal. It’s academic. My goal is to ensure Molly succeeds moving forward. I think it would be useless to have her redo this particular essay.”
Molly nods, the tension between her father and I almost palpable, though she doesn’t seem to notice. “Okay. I’ll do the tutoring.”
“Good,” I say, offering a reassuring smile. “We’ll get you where you need to be. We just need to set up a time that works for you. I can align it with my office hours, though I have to admit that I don’t have a lot of spare time. I’m open to making evenings work.”
I don’t look at Calvin as I say it, but I can feel him watching me.
