Help Sessions Read Online Free

dressed. On those occasions, intense affection, certainly ranking as love, must have emanated from his face. He discussed that privately with Greta, who verified the look on his face. She rooted for him in his quest to win Heather’s heart but warned him to prepare for disappointment. He sensed that Greta wasn’t telling him something.
    Roy looked forward to the help session one night a week, and he shared a soft drink and piece of pie between classes at Sal’s Soda Shop with Heather and Greta one other day. He was on the verge of asking Heather to a movie when she started growing more distant toward him. She no longer responded to his efforts at non-college talk. His compliments on her high marks in her engineering classes had no visible effect. Her eye contact remained when she talked physical chemistry with him, but her behavior scared him.
    Panic grabbed Roy as he wondered whether she’d found some sharp graduate student in the engineering department or maybe an interesting man in one of her engineering classes. Roy despaired. He wouldn’t stand a chance against some brainy, good-looking chem E. type. Had he offended her in some way? That nagging feeling that Greta harbored some secret about Heather, something Heather wouldn’t want known, continued to haunt him.
    He soon learned her increasing coldness toward him wasn’t his imagination. It happened in early April after another p-chem help session. He helped Heather and Greta with their jackets, dismayed that Heather had hardly spoken to him.
    “Roy, I don’t think you need to study p-chem with us anymore. Your grades have forged into the high B range,” Heather said, zipping up her jacket, her expression set in stone.
    A great dread swept over Roy, as though she had proposed a walk through a cemetery on a foggy night.
    “I like your and Greta’s company, and you continue to be of great help,” he said. The quiver in his voice betrayed his wrecked emotional state. Greta’s expression, her down-turned lips, the set of her jaw, echoed Roy’s stress. Her support consoled him.
    “I wish you the best in your studies,” Heather said, picking up her books, ignoring his plea as she turned to go.
    “But Heather…” Roy was devastated at the finality of her statement, but quickly, before she could turn, Greta caught his arm and gave a negative shake of her head, warning him not to pour out his heart.
    He took Greta’s cue, and he swallowed.
    “If you need any help with lab problems, let me know. I hope you continue to do well too, Heather.” Roy’s words were broken.
    “Thank you,” she answered, and he knew she noticed how difficult it was for him to swallow. She swallowed also, grasped her glasses by the bridge to shove them up, took a deep breath, appeared sad judging by the downward curve of her lips, and then turned and headed for the Union Building’s entrance.
    Greta put her arm around Roy, whispered that she was sorry, patted him on the chest, and followed Heather out. Greta had warned him to prepare, but preparation for this wasn’t possible.
    ****
    Roy, like a zombie, shuffled through the coming days. He couldn’t forget about Heather, especially since he saw her in p-chem lecture once a week. He penned disguised prose for his creative writing class, pouring his heart into the recent happenings, so much so that the instructor, Doctor Hughes, nearly sobbed and even the most bored students in class shed tears during his reading. Netting an A on that paper brought no relief to his troubled mind. Doctor Hunter and Mr. Cortessis gave him extra lab work, showing their appreciation for his lab expertise. That boosted his p-chem grade to an A. He threw himself into his studies in an effort to get Heather out of his mind. It didn’t work. Thankfully, his grades didn’t suffer, despite his emotionally wrecked state.
    Heather’s sincere encouragement to do well in his studies rang in his ears. Besides her “Thank you,” after his well wishes, those