changes (j.h.s.)
a/n: this is the first part of my college!AU. not much happens yet, but things are only just beginning with these two! let me know you're thoughts so far!
part of second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)
folks who wanted to be tagged: @memeorydotcom @djs8891
warnings: college!AU, javynat/icemav, swearing
word count: 2.7k
You slip into the classroom, smiling at Pete as he logs in to the computer. “Hey Pete.”
He glances up at you from the screen, returning your smile as you saddle up into the first row of seats in the lecture hall. “Hey kid, I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. How was the last bit of your summer?”
You shrug, tugging your bag off into the chair next to you. “Pretty good. Quiet. How was your trip to Italy with Tom?”
“Pretty good. Nice to get away from the work and hustle-bustle of his job. Definitely don’t miss the paperwork, that’s for sure.” You both laugh lightly, as the door to the classroom open again, a few boys you recognize from the football team filtering in. “I was surprised to see you on my roster for this class. Didn’t you already fulfill the requirements for this?”
You shrug, pulling your laptop out as you finally sit down. “Yeah, but I need a couple more extra credits to stay a full-time student to keep my scholarship and you know I love taking your classes as it is. Might be one of my last chances to do so.”
He tilts his head in acknowledgement as the door opens again. “Remind me after class that I wanted to talk to you about what you’re planning for post-grad.”
You quirk an eyebrow. “Why?”
He huffs out a laugh, collecting his papers. “I might have something for you.” The room has slowly begun to fill up as the two of you have chatted, meaning class is just about ready to start. Pete hangs by the front podium, letting everyone get settled.
Your eyes glance over your computer screen at the non-existent Canvas page, meaning Pete has yet to publish it. The papers in his hands are what you suspect are copies of the syllabus he probably finished over breakfast with Tom this morning. Typical.
“...dude, this is going to be such an easy credit, I’m telling you.” One of the men behind you says. “He’s just Bradshaw’s quirky godfather. You just gotta say something nice about the Navy and he’ll give you an A.”
You snort, shaking your head at Bradley feeding his athlete friends with lies about his godfather’s class. You had taken enough of Pete’s classes to know that retired decorated Naval aviator or not, Admiral husband or not, Pete welcomed critical and open discussion of the United States military’s global engagement. Encouraged it, even.
One of the men behind you sighs and you hear him lean back in his chair. “All I need is an easy A. Gonna skate through this class no problem.”
“Shit, I forgot my pen. Jake, do you have one?”
“Javy, I don’t even have a notebook. What makes you think I have a pen?”
“Reuben?”
“Sorry Javy, you’re straight shit outta luck. I only have one for myself.”
The man, Javy, groans. “Fuck me.”
“Pretty sure Natasha did just that last night based on the- ow.”
“Hey, psst. You, girl in the front.” You startle, turning around to face the boys. “You got a pen for my friend Javy here?” Reuben asks.
You nod, digging through your bag for your pencil case. “Pencil or pen?”
“Whatever you got’s fine, sugar. Right Javy?” The blond says, nudging his friend. You roll your eyes to yourself, unimpressed.
“Here.” You say, leaning up to hand the black pen to Javy.
“Thanks, I’ll give it back to you at the end of class.” Javy says with a warm smile as he takes it from you.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got plenty.” You say with a wave of your hand, already turning back around. Pete clear shis throat just as you do, catching the attention of the students in the room. He offers them a warm smile.
“Well, let’s get started shall we? I’m Pete. You can call me Pete or Mr. Mitchell, whatever suits you. I’m a retired Naval aviator, served for nearly twenty years. I’m an adjunct here at San Diego State, have been for about the last six or seven years. I teach international relations and military history classes mostly. If you’re here, you should be here for History 2060, Global Military Conflicts Post-1945. If that doesn’t sound correct, you’re most likely in the wrong classroom. Don’t blame you, I got lost this morning on my way in from the parking lot.” That earns Mav a laugh from the classroom as you shake your head. He’s told the same joke on the first day of every class you’ve ever had with him. “I’m going to go around and pass out the syllabus. We can read through it and discuss it. The biggest takeaway is that, unlike some of the other History courses on this campus, I care less about your memorization of dates and people on a test. I want you to take something meaningful away from this class and that’s going to come from the papers you write, the readings you do, and the discussions you’ll have in this class. Let’s begin.”
“Easy A, here we come.” Jake mutters behind you as the stack of syllabus gets plopped in front of you.
He’s in for a rude awkaening, you think to yourself as you take a syllabus, passing it back to the boys.
-
“Don’t forget. Your first response paper is due tonight at midnight. I want well-thought out papers, with clear arguments and evidence. Feel free to be critical of the text, but you must respond to it and the more you can incorporate the discussion we had in here over the past few classes, the better. Shows me you’re listening and engaged.” Pete calls out as the class packs up.
Two weeks into the semester and you had all just finished reading Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. Pete had said he’d chosen the book so you could all understand how these global conflicts could be captured in a fictional manner, asking you to focus on how it communicated a very real history of the event. The book had been supplemented by lectures and class discussion and you felt yourself falling in love with the class everytime you showed up.
“Have you started that paper?” Reuben asks, sliding his bag over his shoulder.
Jake snorts. “Hell no. It’s only what, three pages? I’m gonna start writing it after practice tonight.”
“Javy?”
“Finished it last night.”
“Fucking nerd.” Jake says as Pete calls out your name, motioning you up to the front of the room. It catches the boys attention as you walk around the front row, meeting Pete halfway. The boys are lingering and watching, something you’re painfully aware of.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but are you thinking about grad school?”
You nod. “Yeah, I am, but I think I’m going to take a year off first.”
“Have you thought about SDSU’s program at all?”
You sigh, crossing your arms. “Kind of-”
“-Who willingly puts themselves through more school?”
You turn catching both Reuben and Javy nudging Jake. You sigh, uncrossing your arms, looking to the ground.
“We can talk more about this at a later date.” Pete says. “I’ll let you go, I know you have to get to work. Good job on the paper, by the way.”
“You read it already?”
He nods, walking back to the table at the front fo the room. “Thought I’d get a head start on grading the ones that got turned in early last night. You never fail to impress me, kid.”
You can't help the grin spreading across your face, even as Jake coughs words that sound oddly like teacher’s pet into his fist.
“Thanks Pete. See you on Friday.”
-
Jake swallows, staring the 12 out of 100 blinking back at him on the screen.
“Did you get your grade back for that response paper we wrote last week?” He hears himself, asking.
“Yeah, I got an 86. Why?”
“Dude, Pete graded those response papers harder than I thought he would. I scraped by with a 73.” Reuben says, sliding in the booth next to him. “How’d you do Jake?”
He shakes his head, unable to say anything as he stares at the screen.
Reuben leans over his shoulder, looking at the screen before letting out a low whistle. “Shit Jake.”
“What? What’d he get?” Javy asks, craning to see the screen. Jake turns the laptop to Javy, earning him a wince.
“Yikes dude.”
“What am I gonna do?” He mumbles.
-
He pauses, waving his friends on as you chat with Pete. He fiddles with his phone, trying not to look nervous as he hears you and Pete discuss research you’d done from this summer.
“...I really think you should try to get that published, kid.”
You hesitate. “I don’t know, do you think it could?”
“Oh absolutely. Here, why don’t you hang on for a second and let me talk to Jake and we can discuss it more?”
“Oh yeah, sorry.” You give him a nervous smile, stepping a little ways away to give them some privacy.
“What’s up Jake?”
He sighs. “Sir, I was wondering if you could maybe give me some insight to the grade I got on my paper.”
Pete frowns. “Did you not read the feedback I left on Canvas? I’m never sure if my comments save properly.”
“No, I did. I guess- I guess I’m just kind of confused as to why I got that grade.”
“Well, you lacked a clear argument and the paper was riddled with typos. The assignment was only three pages and you turned in a page and a half. You only used one quote, from the first chapter of the book, telling me you didn’t read any further. You didn’t incorporate any class discussion and you’ve only been here once since the semester started. Now, I know I said I didn’t have an attendance policy but if you aren’t here, you’re not participating in the group discussion and that’s a huge chunk of your grade, Jake.”
“Is there any way I could re-submit the paper for a higher grade? I’m on the football team and we have to maintain a 2.8 to stay. It’s my last season, Mr. Mitchell, and I’d really like to keep my starting position.”
Pete sighs. “Tell you what. I’ll let you re-submit the paper for a higher grade if you go to the Writing Center and work with one of their consultants on the feedback I left for you.”
“Sir-”
“Those are my conditions, Jake. For any one, not just you. I want to see that you’re actually working on improving.”
“Well, isn’t it just that… isn’t that place for all the bad writers?”
Pete’s frown deepens. “There’s no shame in asking for help if you need it, Jake. It’s important to me that you know that.”
Jake just shrugs.
“You know, she comes as a very highly rated consultant from some of your athlete friends.” Pete says with a nod of his head over to you. You’re looking at your phone, clearly trying to look busy.
“Yeah, yeah, I think Garcia worked with her last spring.”
Mickey Garcia was Reuben’s room mate, another athlete but on the baseball team. He’d raved about this girl he’d worked with at the Writing Center last spring, helping him get a 93 on a notoriously difficult final for an International Relations class.
“She’s one of the best students I’ve seen in my time at San Diego State. You don’t have to work with her, but it might be nice to have a familiar face and someone who knows the class material. If you do decide to re-submit the paper, just ask the tutor to let me know you were there, yeah? You’ve got a week to get the new one back to me.”
-
Jake pokes his head through the door, eyeing the room nervously. “This the Writing Center?” Your co-worker Mia pops her head up from the computer at the front desk, nodding.
“Yes, it is! How can I help you?”
Jake looks around nervously. “I have an appointment.”
“Okay…” Mia trails off. “Do you remember with who?”
You shut the room to the storage closet. “Hi Jake.” You say warmly, lugging the Costco-sized bag of candy out to the front table. “I’m just finish refilling the candy bowls if you wanna sit down at one of those tables over there?”
He nods, walking around the front desk to one of the tables, pulling his laptop out of his bag.
“Isn’t that Jake Seresin?” Mia whispers, eyes wide. “From the football team?”
You shrug. “I think so. He’s in one of my classes.”
She nods. “Want me to finish doing that?”
You sigh, handing her the bag. “That’d be great. Are you still leaving early tonight?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind locking up the Center.”
“Yeah, it’s no problem!”
You turn back to Jake, whose knee is bouncing as he takes in the space.
He’s nervous, you realize, a stark contrast from the cocky boy you’d known in class.
You grab your laptop, sitting down across from Jake. “Alright Jake, do you just wanna share the document with me so we can get started?”
He wipes his hands on his basketball shorts, nodding as he opens the computer screen before pausing.
“Can I ask how you did on the response paper for class?”
You duck your head, biting your lip. “It wasn’t my best one.”
“What’d did you get?”
“A 94. You?”
Jake swallows, eyes flitting around the Center.
“12.” He whispers.
Your eyes grow wide. “Wait, shit, are you serious?”
Jake nods. “‘S kinda why I’m here. Pete said if I came here, I could re-submit the paper for a higher grade.”
You nod. “Well, what do you want to focus on then?”
Jake shrugs.
“Well, what would be most helpful for you?”
“Could we start by just looking at his feedback and talking about it? I admittedly didn’t understand some of it.”
“Yeah! Yeah, of course.”
The next hour flies by as you work through Jake’s paper, identifying places for him to expand and ways he could utilize evidence. You both worked through Pete’s feedback as you worked to build a better argument based off of it.
Finally, you sit back and sigh. “Well, we’re just at about time. You got any last questions for me?”
Jake shakes his head, shutting his laptop. “Thanks for all your help on this.”
“Yeah, of course. It’s my job.”
“This… this all seems to come so naturally to you.”
You shrug, closing your own laptop. “Yeah, yeah, I mean I’m a senior so I’ve had a lot of practice. It’s a lot harder when you’re first starting out.”
“I couldn’t imagine just writing all the time.”
You give Jake a bashful smile. “I’m writing a 30 page paper for my senior capstone.”
Jake cringes at your words. “I couldn’t do that.” He says, rubbing his forehead.
“Hey, you’re already improving. It just takes time to learn how to write in a style like this.”
“I much prefer my Business classes. At least there, it’s a cake-walk to scrap by with a B average.”
“Well, you’re already doing better than me there. I failed Math in high school.”
Jake chuckles, packing up his things. “Hey, uh, Pete told me I needed you guys to tell him I came here?”
You nod. “Yeah, we just send them an email with your appointment form, discussing what we did in the appointment.”
Jake sighs, shoulders slumping. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Feel free to make another appointment if you have any more questions.”
Jake gives an aborted nod, slipping his backpack over shoulder and standing up. “Thanks again.”
-
He blinks, looking at the grade in Canvas.
70/100
Javy leans over his shoulder at his phone as their coach talks. “Is that the revised grade?” He whispers, Jake nods, locking the phone and slipping it back into his pocket, trying not to think about the comment Pete had left just below the grade.
There was significant improvement here Jake. Please see my comments in the document and on the rubric for further feedback. I highly encourage you to continue visiting the Writing Center throughout the semester. Let me know if you have any questions or concerns.
“How you do that, Jakey?” Javy whispers.
He shrugs as Coach Simpson dismisses them. “Does it matter?”
Javy lets out an incredulous chuckle. “I mean, if you went from a 12 to a 70, I’d kinda think you sucked Mitchell’s dick or something.”
Jake middle finger doesn’t stop Javy’s chortle as he leaves the locker room.
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