“Fuck,” Sandy said quietly, her anger tightening into a ball at the bottom of her stomach. Where the hell was Jenna? Sandy went over to check her phone for a text, something like Going to crash here. See you in the morning. But there was nothing. Not a goddamn thing.

So much for that civics and econ homework Sandy was supposed to finish for Rhea and the algebra quiz she had to study for. Not that she should have been surprised. Going for her GED had been a stupid goddamn long shot. It was the kind of thing that other people did. But then Sandy had let herself get sucked in by Rhea. Found herself thinking: Why not me? Jenna, that’s why fucking not. What a joke.

Where the hell are you? Sandy texted Jenna.

“Listen, Sandy, no one’s perfect,” Rhea had said at the end of that first meeting they’d had back in October, almost six months earlier. The sweet way she’d been smiling at Sandy had made her throat tighten up. “And anyone who pretends they’re perfect is a liar.”

It had taken a lot for Sandy to drag her ass into Ridgedale High School to the Community Outreach Tutoring Office. She hadn’t been in a school since the spring before, when she’d finished up her sophomore year at that hellhole in northeast Philly. She hadn’t even considered starting at Ridgedale High School when they’d moved there in September. Food, rent, coffee, all of it was a lot more expensive in Ridgedale. Sandy would have to work more to carry her own weight.

But then goddamn Rhea had come into Winchester’s Pub for lunch when Sandy was working. And she had that nice smile and those kind eyes, and she’d asked Sandy all these questions. Caught off guard, Sandy hadn’t had her usual lies at the ready. And so, by the time Rhea was paying the bill, she’d talked Sandy into coming down to Ridgedale High School to check out her Outreach Tutoring. “You might even be able to get your GED before you would have graduated,” she said.

Sandy didn’t tell Jenna about the tutoring. She wouldn’t have tried to talk Sandy out of it; even Jenna would have known that would be fucked up. She probably would have cheered Sandy on. Told her to go for it, rah, rah, rah.

But then Jenna would have come up with all sorts of reasons for Sandy not to do the work: “Come to the movies with me, Sandy”; “Snuggle on the couch with me, Sandy”; “Share a beer with me.” Jenna couldn’t help herself. She just couldn’t bear the thought of being left behind.

It hardly seemed to matter that Sandy hadn’t told Jenna. When she was sure Rhea had been talking shit anyway. That she wouldn’t remember Sandy when she finally showed up.

But then she totally did.

“I’m so glad you made it!” Rhea said, jumping out of her chair and grabbing Sandy into a hug.

By the second time they met, Rhea had a plan set up for Sandy. “I took a look at your old transcripts. With the courses you’ve taken and your excellent grades, I bet, with a little review, you could get your GED by the end of this year. That would be like graduating a whole year ahead of schedule.” Rhea blinked her big blue eyes at Sandy. She was so pretty and healthy-looking. It made Sandy want to take a shower. “All you need is someone to supervise your progress and practice tests, which I’m obviously happy to do. And I’ll arrange for a student tutor for the math and science.”

“A student tutor?” Sandy felt sick. She couldn’t deal with some rich asshole from Ridgedale looking down on her.

“Come on.” Rhea laughed. “It won’t be that bad. I get it, but it’s not like you have to be best friends. You just have to let someone help you. Can you do that?”

“I’ll try,” Sandy said. She sounded like an ungrateful asshole, but she didn’t want to lie. Especially to someone who was being so nice to her. “When do we start?”

“Right now!” Rhea said. “I’m going to go grab the books you’ll need and the syllabus. Once we’ve got you going on all of that, we can talk about the GED honors program and college. I think you’re the perfect candidate.”

Sandy had played out this moment in her head a million times, imagining somebody like Rhea swooping in and rescuing her from the shit-show that was her life. But she hadn’t counted on just how good it would feel. Don’t believe her. Don’t believe her. Don’t believe her. But it was too late.

“College?” Sandy asked, feeling this dumb mix of nerves and delight.

Rhea winked and grinned as she stood. “Yes, college. They’ve revamped the GED. These days it can be about getting somewhere, not just making up for what you lost.”

Rhea had barely stepped out the door when the first text from Jenna came through: Where are you? Come home now! I have SUCH a good story to tell you. U won’t fucking believe it.

Be home in ½ hour, Sandy texted back.

Hurry. And bring Cheetos! xoxoxoxo

Fucking Jenna. Worst part was that Sandy felt guilty not being there. And that was sick. Sandy knew that. But its being sick didn’t make it any less true.

When Rhea returned to the office, she dumped a stack of books and photocopies on the table in front of Sandy. “Okay, I’ve got a great tutor for you.” Rhea handed Sandy a printout. Hannah Carlson, it said beneath an address, phone number, and email. “Hannah is such a sweetheart. Quirky, too, in a way not so many girls around here are. She’s this amazing pianist, and she’s on the math team. She’s also a terrific writer. She even took English classes over at the university last spring as a junior.”

Which meant she was a senior now. At least she was a year older than Sandy. Being tutored by someone younger would have been way too much.

“Sounds awesome,” Sandy said flatly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That was stupid,” Rhea said. “Who would want Little Ms. Perfect teaching them anything?” She stuck out her tongue and pretended to gag. Then she leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Hannah’s mom is a total b-i-t-c-h. With a capital B. So, you know, Hannah’s got her own cross to bear.”

“Cool.” Sandy nodded, looking down at the girl’s name. But she knew what this Hannah’s mother being a “bitch” meant on the scale of actual problems: fucking nothing.

“Listen, I know this isn’t easy. But don’t give up before we’ve even gotten started,” Rhea said, reading Sandy’s mind. Her voice was different now, more serious. She put her hands on the pile of coursework. “These are your assignments. When we meet next week, I expect all of them to be finished. And you can do it. I have absolutely no doubt.”

Sandy tried and failed to lift the heavy stack with a few fingers. “That makes one of us.”

Rhea put her hand over Sandy’s, squeezing it until she looked up. Rhea’s eyes were glassy, her smile sort of sad but also weirdly hopeful. “I think you and I both know this is it, Sandy. This is your chance.” Rhea made two fists in the air. “You’re going to have to grab onto it with both hands.”

When they were done, Sandy rushed out the side door of the school, praying she’d make it away before she started to cry. At least it was the middle of the school day, the parking lot dead quiet, the lawns all empty. Even the fancy track that looped around the perfectly green and neatly trimmed football field didn’t have a soul on it. The only sound was Sandy’s breathing when her phone chirped with another text: WHERE R THE CHEETOS!!! I’m DIIIIEEEING HERE. Come home. Judge Judy is ripping into this chick with a hair salon. You should see her roots!

Sandy slid her phone into her back pocket, then dropped herself against the cool brick of the school building so hard it scratched her back. “Fuck, ouch,” she said out loud. Then she rested her head against her hands, rocking it back and forth. Why did her life feel the most fucked whenever she was trying to make it better?

“Want one?” someone asked.