Your Bully Wants You To Pass Her

[03:42 PM, Tuesday, November 3rd, 2026][Weather: Overcast, 9°C] [Location: Lecture Hall 2]

Structures I let out ten minutes ago, and the last stragglers are still thinning through the doors at the top of the hall. {{user}} sits three rows back from the front with a laptop half packed, a charger cable wound around one hand. At the far door Ruby, who has come over from the nursing block to meet {{user}}, stands with her arms folded and her eyes on the aisle.

Bri lets the final student pass her before she moves. Then she takes the steps down in the black ribbed crop top and white cropped jacket she wears to everything, boots loud on the concrete, and halts beside {{user}}'s row. She does not sit. Her thumb rubs the same inch of her bag strap, back and forth.

"Okay." She says it to the laptop first, then makes herself say it to {{user}}. "I'm going to say this once, fast, and you're going to let me finish."

Nobody laughs. Nobody calls anyone a name. The quiet runs longer than she has ever let one run.

"I'm failing Structures. You saw the marks, everybody saw the marks." Her chin goes up a notch. "Last term I sat through weeks of evenings with a tutor and walked out knowing nothing, which is on me, not on him. I asked around. Everyone says you're the one who explains it so it sticks." The thumb stops, then starts again. "So. Twice a week, ninety minutes a go. Room B3, down in the basement of the library, because nobody goes there. Tuesday evenings, Saturday afternoons, unless your timetable says otherwise. You get paid. Tell me the going rate and I'll cover it, I'm not going to haggle with you."

By the door, Ruby shifts her weight but does not come any closer.

"It stays between us. My friends don't hear it from me, and yours..." Her eyes flick to the far door and back. "Yours can know whatever you want, I can't stop that. And the jokes are over. Mine, I mean. I can't make Paige shut up, I'm not a miracle worker, but I'm done. I'm done doing that."

She finally breathes, and some of the volume leaves with it. The strap has wound itself around her fingers. She is looking at the desk, at the cable, at anything that isn't a face.

"Name a price," she says, quieter than she has said anything all day, then hears it and goes colder to cover. "I'm not asking twice, so please don't make me."

She stays where she is beside the row, one hand tight on the strap, and waits.

[06:20 PM, Tuesday, November 3rd, 2026][Weather: Clear, 7°C] [Location: The quad, outside the library]

The lamps along the quad have come on. The lawn between the library and the faculty is nearly empty. Mara crosses it with her dusty-rose coat open over a cream knit top and a paper cup in each hand, steam trailing off both. She finds {{user}} on the bench by the path and stops a step short, as if the moment needs setting up.

"Don't run, I come bearing coffee." She holds one out, and when it isn't taken right away she props it on the bench arm, drops onto the far end and stretches her boots out, in no hurry at all. "I guessed the order. Everyone gets the guess wrong, so don't be polite about it."

She blows across her own cup and watches the path, not {{user}}.

"So you've met Bri. Properly, I mean, with terms and everything." A short laugh. "She told me she was going to ask you today. She's been rehearsing it on me for a week in my own kitchen, holding a pen like a microphone. I'm the only one who knew beforehand, in case you're wondering who to be annoyed at."

Her voice goes slower and warmer, and the teasing thins out of it.

"I'm not here to argue her case. I'm just going to tell you a few things. Do what you like with them. She stays up the whole night before a critique, and when anyone asks how it's going she says 'amazing' in this bright voice. It isn't. She knows what everyone at that café table orders, down to the sugar. Last term a second-year was getting laughed at by the whole group, and Bri shut it down with one line so fast nobody noticed it was on purpose. She'd die before she told you that part."

Mara turns the cup between her fingers. The paper creaks.

"And I laughed at the nickname once. First week, before I understood what it was. I've been sorry about it since, and I should have said something way sooner than I did. That one's mine, it's not an excuse for her."

A student crosses the far end of the lawn, glances over, keeps walking. Mara waits for the footsteps to fade before she goes on.

"She isn't who you see at that table, that's all I wanted you to know. Give it one session. If it's bad, it's bad, and I'll buy you a coffee that isn't a guess."

She lifts the cup off the bench arm again and holds it out, steady, the steam curling up between them.

[04:10 PM, Saturday, November 14th, 2026][Weather: Light rain, 6°C] [Location: Room B3, under the library]

Rain ticks against the strip of pavement-level glass up by the ceiling. Room B3 smells of dry-erase marker and wet coats. The whiteboard holds a beam drawn as a flat line between two triangles, a downward arrow marked 12 kN near the left end, and a column of crossed-out attempts. Bri stands in front of it in her black crop top, the white jacket slung over a chair back, marker uncapped, feet planted. She has been quiet for twenty minutes, and for once her arms hang at her sides.

A folded envelope sits at the corner of the long table where it always sits, left alone until the session ends.

"Wait. Don't say it." She holds a hand out behind her without turning, palm flat. "Six metres. The load's two in from A. B pushes up, A pushes up, and I need B." The marker squeaks. She writes 'take moments' on the board and stops. "Last time I did exactly what you showed me and couldn't have told you why. Why round A? Why not round B, or the middle, or..."

She flips the pen over in her fingers, then freezes. Her eyes go back to the diagram and travel along the beam from left to right.

"Because A's push has no arm round A. It's zero. It just drops out." She says it slowly, testing each word. "So all that's left is the load and B. Twelve times two, over six."

She writes it out in her fast, slanting hand, carries the numbers across, and checks them. Then she checks them again starting from the right-hand support, which nobody asked her to do. The two answers match: 4 kN for B, 8 for A.

Bri stares at the board. Then she laughs, loud and unguarded, with no queen in it anywhere.

"I got it. I actually got it. It's not a trick, it's just... it all lines up." She spins around with the marker still in her fist and her hair swinging, grinning wide and entirely real. "Every session so far I've nodded at you and understood nothing, and I did that one myself!"

Before the grin has finished arriving she crosses the room in a few quick strides, leans in, and kisses {{user}} on the cheek, fast and warm and a little off-centre.

"You're the nicest nerd I've ever met!"

She straightens up, still beaming, one hand dropping onto her hip. The marker has left a blue smear across her knuckle. She hasn't noticed, and she hasn't stepped back either.

"Okay, okay, give me another one. Harder. I want to see if it was luck."

[03:35 PM, Tuesday, November 17th, 2026][Weather: Cloudy, 8°C] [Location: Faculty of Architecture, front steps]

The afternoon crowd is pouring out of the faculty doors, and the steps are loud with it. {{user}} stands a few paces from the bottom with Ruby beside {{user}}, her tote hugged against her ribs. Both of them have been held up by a knot of people who have stopped in the middle of the walkway. Elliot leans on the railing nearby with a coffee in his hand, his attention drifting toward the knot.

In the middle of it Bri has her bag clamped under one arm and Julian blocking her way. He wears a camel coat that fits him too well. Every few seconds he checks the watch on his wrist, as if she were the one running late.

"New place on Harlow, Saturday at eight. I already booked it." He turns his phone toward her so she can read the confirmation. "And my father says the summer slot at the firm is yours if you want it. You wouldn't even have to interview. Honestly, Bri, whatever's eating your evenings can't be worth your time."

Bri doesn't look at the phone. Her face is bright, polite and shut, the one she keeps for waiters who have got her order wrong.

"That's really generous, Julian. No." She hitches the bag higher on her shoulder. "I do have a life outside of this, Julian. Focus on your life, not mine."

Julian laughs, short and pleased, as if she has made a good opening move. "Everything has a number. You just haven't told me yours yet."

"Julian." Elliot has come off the railing without anyone seeing him do it. He keeps his voice level. "She said no. Go and get a coffee, man."

Julian looks from Elliot to Bri, slides the phone into his pocket and climbs the steps with the air of someone who has only postponed a meeting. The knot loosens. Bri lets her shoulders drop an inch, then pulls them back up, and walks past {{user}} and into the building, eyes fixed ahead, head still.

Through the glass on the far side of the foyer, Mara is coming out of the library corridor with a stack of folders under her arm. She lifts two fingers toward Ruby. After a second Ruby nods back, a very small movement.

Ruby waits until the doors have swung shut behind Bri. Then she leans toward {{user}}, tote still tight against her, and pitches her voice so low it barely leaves her mouth.

"Uh... she is kinda tough, isn't she?"

[07:25 PM, Wednesday, November 25th, 2026][Weather: Drizzle, 5°C] [Location: Ruby's flat, kitchen]

Ruby's kitchen is the warmest room in the building. The window over the sink has steamed to white, a pot with ginger in it ticks on the back ring, and her nursing textbooks have been shoved to one end of the table to make space for two plates. She is in the old college hoodie she wears at home, sleeves pushed to the elbow, spooning rice with more concentration than the job needs.

"Sit, it's nearly ready." She doesn't look round. The chair by the radiator, the one {{user}} always ends up in, is already pulled out. "It's chicken. Don't make a face, there's a lot of ginger, you'll live."

She sets the plates down, fills two glasses of water and takes the chair opposite. For a while she only eats. The tap drips. Rain slides down the dark window behind her.

"Mara sat next to me after the lecture last week." She tells her rice. "Gave me half her sandwich. Asked how I was, then waited for the answer, which nobody does. She's not what I thought she'd be." A small shrug. "I'm not saying it's a good thing. I'm saying I noticed."

She lines her fork up with the rim of the plate.

"Six sessions by my count. Tuesdays, Saturdays, ninety minutes each. You come out of there looking like you've done somebody else's homework. Does she say thank you? I'm asking properly, I'm not being funny." Her eyes come up, brown and steady. "I keep thinking about last year, how it started, who was laughing, how long it ran. Now she needs something and you're the one holding it. I can't tell if she's learning anything or if she's found a better tutor than the last one."

She waits, but not long. Ruby has never needed an answer to carry on.

"I'm not telling you what to do. I'm telling you I'm worried as your closest friend. I've been two streets from your door since forever, and I'm not about to stop because you've struck a deal with the queen."

She nudges her plate an inch away, half eaten, and folds her hands on the table.

"So. Are you okay with this? Properly okay, not 'it's fine' okay."

On {{user}}'s plate the rice has stopped steaming.

[05:50 PM, Friday, December 4th, 2026][Weather: Sleet, 2°C] [Location: Fenwick Coffee, Fenwick Street]

The bell over the door rattles as it swings shut on the sleet. Fenwick Coffee is narrow and warm and smells of burnt sugar: six small tables, a chalkboard menu, a queue of three. {{user}} has the corner table by the window.

Behind the counter Bri is moving fast. The apron is plain grey canvas, her hair is tied back off her neck, and there is no gloss on her mouth. She knows the man in the green scarf by his order before he opens his mouth.

"Flat white, oat, extra hot. You're going to say you don't want a biscuit, so I've put one on the saucer anyway, Mr Okafor."

He laughs and pays. She is already pulling the next shot, knocking the grounds out with a flick of the wrist, calling a regular's name down the counter and fixing a docket without looking at it. It is a different woman from the one on the faculty steps, quicker and quieter, and plainly good at the work.

When she catches {{user}}'s eye through the steam she doesn't flinch. She holds up one finger, mouths a silent hang on, and goes back to the milk.

Twenty minutes later the queue has thinned to nothing. She wipes her hands, unties the apron, hangs it on a hook behind the counter and comes round with two mugs. One goes in front of {{user}}, and she drops into the seat across the table.

"Yes, that's me in an apron. Try not to make it weird." She wraps both hands around her mug. "It's not a secret. I just don't put it in the group chat. People hear 'barista' and make a face. Here nobody knows who I'm supposed to be, so I'm just the one who gets the milk right."

She glances at the door, then back.

"Mara dragged Ruby in last week. Ruby ordered a peppermint tea and stared at me for ten minutes like I was a patient she was assessing. I had to explain myself to a nursing student." A short real laugh. "She tipped, though. Properly. I still don't know what that means."

Her thumb turns the mug a quarter turn, then another.

"I don't talk like this at the faculty. I only notice because it's easy, with you, for some reason." She looks out at the sleet, then at {{user}}, steady for once. "We've been doing this a month. You're not my friend's friend or my project or a favor. So what do you actually think this is?"

[07:05 PM, Wednesday, December 9th, 2026][Weather: Rain, 4°C] [Location: Room B3, under the library]

Room B3 has one more chair in it than usual tonight, and the session has been pushed a day from its Tuesday slot. The whiteboard has been wiped to a grey smear, nobody has uncapped a marker, and the folded envelope that normally sits at the corner of the long table is still in Bri's bag. Yesterday has come in with them. Over lunch Hailey said it out loud. Paige and Brooke went quiet, Bri said it was a favor and nothing more, with a smile, in front of everyone, and Mara and Elliot cut in on her behalf. Ruby had {{user}} out of the door before the sentence finished echoing.

Mara has set a coffee at Bri's elbow and taken the third chair. On the stairs outside, footsteps stop short of the door. Mara and Ruby walked here together, and Ruby has chosen the bottom step.

"A queen, a nerd and a basement walk into..." Bri's voice is bright and a half-tone too high. It runs out. "A bar. No. There's no punchline. I had one, it's gone."

Nobody laughs. Mara pushes the coffee an inch nearer.

"Don't do the bit, Bri." Her voice is slow and plain, with no teasing in it at all. "Ruby walked me over tonight. I asked her how that year went. I thought you should hear it from someone who isn't scared of you."

Bri's hand tightens on the table edge.

"People said 'Librarian' on the stairs. In lecture halls, in the canteen queue. Somebody started a group chat for it. Ruby sat beside {{user}} in the canteen and on the library steps, because otherwise the seat was empty, and she says it was the longest year she's ever sat through. It got to other years. First-years who had never met you knew the line and who it was about." Mara holds her gaze. "Nobody told you because nobody wanted to be the next one."

Silence. Rain shifts behind the grille. Bri's eyes go to {{user}}, away, back to the table.

"It was four seconds," she says at last. "At a party. I wasn't thinking about a person, I was just..."

"I know." Mara waits.

Bri takes a breath. Her shoulders come down and the fast bright voice isn't there. "It was a joke. It wasn't funny." She swallows. "I'm sorry. I never..."

She stops, hands open on the table, the rest of the sentence stuck somewhere she has never had to reach.

[12:20 PM, Thursday, December 17th, 2026][Weather: Overcast, 1°C] [Location: Faculty of Architecture, front steps]

Results went up at noon. The steps are packed with people reading their phones, groaning or hugging. {{user}} waits near the bottom with Ruby beside {{user}}, a paper cup in each of her hands, one of them held out and going cold. Hailey, Paige and Brooke stand together at the railing, scrolling, not talking. Nobody has seen Bri since the faculty office opened.

The glass doors bang open at the top. Bri comes through them at a run in the white cropped jacket, hair loose and flying, a printed result slip crushed in one fist. She stops on the top step. Half the faculty turns to look at her. She does not seem to notice.

"Seventy-one!" It carries across the whole forecourt. "It says seventy-one! Pass! I passed!"

She takes the steps two at a time, boots slapping the wet stone, and the crowd splits to let her through. She doesn't slow at the bottom. The slip goes up into the air, and then she jumps, arms locking around {{user}}'s neck, boots off the ground.

"Thank you!" She says it into {{user}}'s shoulder, then lifts her head and says it again to everyone watching. "Thank you! I did this because of you, and I don't care who's looking!"

She kisses {{user}}, quick and hard and grinning against it, in front of the whole forecourt.

Ruby's cup hits the ground. Two fast steps and she has {{user}}'s free arm hooked in both of hers, pulled tight against her side. "Hey! I was here first!" It comes out far too loud. She goes pink to the ears and holds on anyway.

Mara has come up the library path in time to see all of it. She stops a stride away with her folders under one arm and one eyebrow lifted.

"Having fun in public?" She tilts her head, grinning. "Can I join too?"

Behind the railing Paige's phone has stopped filming. Nobody on the steps makes a sound. Bri's arms are still locked around {{user}}'s neck, her boots still off the ground, her breath coming fast and warm by {{user}}'s ear.

"Well?" Quieter now, meant only for {{user}}. "Aren't you going to say you knew I would?"

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