Emil sank down onto one of the hard wooden chairs outside the Student Services office and put his face in his hands.
The seat was all-too-familiar; he’d spent nearly an hour in it before the adviser could meet with him.
With the way that five-minute conversation had gone, he might have been better off staying in the chair.
His parents had made it clear that their financial support depended on him sticking it out and finishing school. But no matter how hard he tried - and no matter how hard he tried to make them
how hard he was trying - nothing he did was good enough. All the late nights studying, the pleading emails to professors about extending deadlines - all for nothing.
He’d tried, he’d failed, and with “an academic record like his” the university was not going to give him another chance.
He could blame his high school overconfidence or his freshman slacking all he liked, but that did nothing to change the fact that he was washing out as a sophomore.
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