All I Want For Christmas Is My Best Friend’s Father

~ Aaliyah’s pov ~ My phone vibrates under the desk, and my whole body jerks like I’ve been caught doing something illegal. Which… I technically am. Phones are supposed to be completely switched off during finals. If a proctor sees mine light up right now, I’m finished. They will write me up instantly, and God knows I can’t afford even one problem with my academic record. I press my legs together and slide my hand under the desk, feeling around for the phone without moving my upper body too much. The vibration goes off again, buzzing against my palm, and I grip it quickly before anyone hears. The room is still mostly silent except for pens scratching on paper and a few stressed-out breaths from students. “Time!” the proctor calls suddenly, blowing the whistle. People groan and chairs scrape the floor as everyone rushes to flip their papers over and stop writing. I force myself to drop my pen and lift my hand, even though I swear I still had one more sentence I could have squeezed in somewhere. The proctor starts walking down the rows, collecting papers one by one. I keep my phone hidden between my thighs, my heart pounding so loudly I’m scared anyone close to me might hear it. When he reaches my row, I quickly slide my paper forward. “Thank you,” he says without really looking at me. I nod in relief. Once he takes the exam sheet from my desk and moves on, I slowly look up for the first time. Students are already stretching, cracking their necks, and sighing like they’ve just been released from jail. I sigh along in understanding and pull up my phone just enough to peek at the lock screen. I'm expecting a “Good luck” text from my mom, or maybe even a “How did it go?” from my best friend Maya. But no. It’s Tyler. My boyfriend. And the message preview on my lock screen is a video. I frown and drag the phone a little higher so I can see it properly without anyone else catching a glimpse. When the thumbnail pops up big on my screen showing two people having s*x on a bed with Christmas lights behind them, I almost slam the phone face down on the table. Gosh, Tyler! How many times do I have to tell him I’m not ready? He knows I’m still a virgin, knows I want my first time to mean something. He also knows how stressed I’ve been this whole month because of this exam. I’ve barely been sleeping or eating because I’m too scared of losing my scholarship. Yet he sends me porn. During finals. I roll my eyes so hard I think they might get stuck that way, then blow out a long breath and lean back in my chair. My neck hurts. My head hurts. And I can’t tell if I aced the exam or failed it, but at least it’s done. Around me, people are already talking as they make their way out of the hall. “That was the hardest exam ever,” one girl says to her friend as they pass by me. “I don’t care, as long as Professor Riley keeps teaching us next year. I’ll suffer any exam to get a glimpse of him,” the friend replies, and they both giggle. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. If only they knew how lucky they are to live without constant worry that they'll be kicked out of school if they drop a single score point. “My family is going to kill me if I don’t bring up my GPA this semester,” the first girl sighs as they head towards the door. "Well, at least you don't have to spend Christmas break with them in Aspen. Unlike me who has to suffer going home to a huge family Christmas party," her friend responds. I look down at my cheap coat and my worn-out bag and feel something tiny twist inside my chest. I love my mom, I really do. She works two jobs just to keep the lights on and food in our stomachs. But sometimes I wish I had a little more help in this world. I sigh as my eyes drop back to my phone. Tyler’s message has another notification under it now. Tyler: Watch the video. I want you like that tonight. My stomach tightens. Tyler's been hinting all week that he wants to finally take things to the next level and that he can't wait any longer. Part of me wants to stand my ground about not being ready yet. But the other part of me... the one scared of being alone is resigned to just giving in. Why am I even holding on anyway? It isn't like anyone else will willingly love a poverty-stricken girl like me. Tyler has basically told me as much. Maybe I’m the weird one for overthinking everything. And maybe all this stress I'm under will melt away if I just let go and live a little, like Tyler always says. I swallow and tap the video. It starts playing, and the sound makes my soul leave my body as a girl starts moaning loudly. I scramble to mash the volume button with shaky fingers until it goes silent. Oh, lord! I forgot to put my earplugs on. A few people look my way and I squeeze my eyes shut in embarrassment. God. Kill me now. I need to get out of here. I push my chair back and stand up. My legs feel a little weak from sitting too long, but I ignore them and brush my short blond curls away from my cheeks. I tried to make them look nice this morning so I wouldn’t look as stressed as I felt during the exam, but it seems my efforts were in vain because now they look even worse. It’s kind of like how I’m feeling right now. I grab my bag, drop my phone and pen inside before pulling the strap over my shoulder. My phone buzzes again, but I ignore it. I need to get outside first because it feels like all eyes are on me. I step out into the hallway and sigh in mild relief. It’s loud and packed. People are laughing, complaining, hugging each other, and dragging suitcases. Everyone is ready to leave this place behind for Christmas. Walking to a corner, I pull my phone from my bag to see what the notification I got earlier is about. Maybe it’s the email I’ve been waiting for all day. I unlock my phone and check, but my chest tightens when I see no new emails from financial aid. I click the inbox again. Scroll. Refresh. But there is nothing new from financial aid. That earlier notification was just a late water bill alert. “Come on,” I whisper. “Please. Please just send me something.” I’ve checked this email at least fifteen times today. Financial aid said they would give me an update about my scholarship renewal before we go on break. And today is literally the last day. If they take my scholarship away for any reason… that’s it. No more Boston University School of Law for me. No second year, bar exam, or dream job. Just loans I can’t pay, which means my mom would have to work even harder than she already does. I feel the thought wrapping around my throat, squeezing slowly. “Aaliyah!” I spin around in time to see Maya pushing through the hallway like she owns the whole building. She’s moving fast, her hair in this messy brown bun that somehow makes her look even prettier than she already is. My heart clenches when I see those big black boots she wears everywhere. Boots that would probably cost my entire tuition for a year. If I sound jealous, it’s probably because I am. And I'm so damn ashamed to admit it.