"The average on this test was a 74," my math teacher announced, as he passed back our tests. "So obviously you guys didn't grasp the concept. I'm going to offer an extra credit opportunity to those who scored below a 75, and we'll do a brief review these concepts again tomorrow." I'd studied for hours for this test, and I'd felt quite confident afterwards. Mr. Trenton placed my test on my desk, facedown. I flipped it over, and my heart stopped in my chest. 52. I'd made an F. I couldn't remember the last time I'd failed something, or even if I'd ever had. I wasn't an F student. The bell rang, and Mr. Trenton waved us off. "We'll talk about the extra credit more tomorrow." I numbly exited the room, shoving my test into my backpack. I took a few deep breaths, regaining my composure. One F wasn't the end of the world. And I had a chance for extra credit. "How'd you do on Trenton's test?" Emmett asked me, joining me at my locker. "I didn't," I answered, my stomach churning. "What do you mean?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "I failed it." The words were bitter. Emmett raised his eyebrows at me, clearly surprised. "You failed the test?" "I really don't want to talk about it." "It's not the end of the world Em," Emmett encouraged, as I shut my locker. "It's one test. And I'm pretty sure it's the only test you've ever bombed." "I know." "Well stop acting so distant then." I rolled my eyes. "I've got to get to class." "It's just one test," Emmett reminded me. "Right?" "Right," I agreed, flashing him a half-hearted smile before heading to my next class. I don't need to be perfect. But remembering that seemed harder than it was in London. ~*~ "Where are you going again?" Emmett asked, opening up the refrigerator. "The mall with Michelle," I reminded him, for the fourth time. He reached into his pocket, pulling the out the credit card linked to dad's bank account. "Just to the mall?" "Yes dad," I said, plucking the card from his grasp. I used to have one, but mine was revoked after I was hospitalized and my parents found out I'd been using it to buy appetite suppressants. "Attitude," he muttered, pouring some Gatorade into a glass for himself. I reached over and took his Gatorade glass, taking a sip. "Thanks Emmy." "Don't call me that," he muttered, taking his glass back from me. "And you have an entire closet full of clothes, what do you need more for?" Boys are clueless, I swear. "The only clothes I have in my size are from London," I said, hopping up to sit on the counter. "What a shame?" I rolled my eyes. "Do you work tonight?" He gestured towards the work uniform he was currently wearing. "No, I just enjoy wearing this." "Now who has the attitude?" I teased. Michelle walked into the apartment, whistling as she swung her car keys around her finger. "I'm out," I said, hopping off the counter and kissing Emmett on the cheek. "Call me when you're done?" "What for?" "Just so I know you got home safe." "Okay dad." "Stop." I laughed, grasping the door handle. "I will." He flashed me a grateful smile before I closed the apartment door behind me. "He's so cute when he's worried," Michelle said, looking back over her shoulder at my apartment door. "Walk," I ordered, pointing towards the elevator doors. She held her hands up in mock surrender. "Just saying." Michelle drove to the mall, the radio blasting and windows down. "I need a new flannel shirt," I said, as we headed inside. "American Eagle has them on sale right now," she pointed out. "I'll start there then." "I'll meet you there in two seconds. I want to return this to Aeropostale." I raised my eyebrows at her. "It was a gift," she defended. "Nice gesture, wrong store." I rolled my eyes, laughing as I headed over to American Eagle. As I was headed to the flannel shirts, I was distracted by the sundresses. They only had one left in the style I wanted, and I couldn't help but pick it up. I'm a bit of a distracted shopper. After gathering everything I could possibly want from the American Eagle floor, I headed back to the dressing rooms. I tried on the flannel shirt first, the thing I actually came for. The last time I'd shopped here I was an XS, but I guessed at being a small now. The shirt was tight, telling me I should move up to a medium. I guessed a size 4 on the jeans, but they fit awkwardly. They were tight in the legs and loose in the waist, and I wasn't quite sure what to do about that. Frustrated, I let out a sigh, discarding the flannel shirts and the jeans. At least I still had my sundress. I slipped on the sundress, staring in the mirror once I had it situated. It clung oddly to my upper body and then flowed out a bit awkwardly. I stepped out of the dressing room, looking at myself in the 3-way mirror. "Cute dress," the American Eagle employee commented, as I twirled around. I stared at myself for a few more moments, not sure if I loved it. "It doesn't quite fit you right though," she commented again. "I thought so too," I agreed, with a sigh. "It would probably look better if you dropped a couple of pounds." I couldn't help but stare at myself in the mirror, silently agreeing with her. All of the clothes I'd tried on today would fit me better if I just dropped a couple of pounds. "Do you want me to get you the next size up?" the employee asked, popping her gum. "This was the last one." "Bummer." I nodded before slipping back into my dressing room, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't realize how heavy I'd gotten until today. "Emily?" Michelle called. "Are you in there?" "Yeah," I called back, my voice thick. "Is everything okay?" No. Everything is falling apart. ~*~ "It was your night to make dinner," Parker reminded me, as I walked in the door of the apartment. "My bad," I said, dropping Emmett's credit card on the counter. "I made it, but you owe me." "Okay," I agreed, before heading back to my bedroom. "You're not even going to eat any of it?" Parker called after me. "I ate at the mall with Michelle!" I called back, before closing my bedroom door behind me. The lie was too easy. My phone rang as I changed into some pajamas, Emmett's picture popping up on my screen. "Yeah?" I asked, answering my phone. "You didn't call me when you got home," he accused. "I just walked in the door." "Oh. Well then you're forgiven." I sighed, taking a seat on my bed. "Is that all you needed?" "Whoa, snappy much?" "Just tired." "Okay," he agreed. "Did you put my card back on the counter?" "Yeah." "Alright, well I'll see you tomorrow then." "Night," I agreed, before hanging up. First thing on my to do list, get my credit card back. There's no way I can buy what I need using Emmett's card. He'd ask too many questions.