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“You may head in,” she says.
My dad thanks her and marches in through the headmaster’s open door, and I follow him inside.
“Shut the door please, Miss Baker,” Headmaster Popov says. “And take a seat.”
My dad shakes his hand over the desk before sitting in one of the chairs. Once I shut the door, I approach to take a seat, but each step closer feels heavier and heavier.
I don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to do this.
Headmaster Popov refuses to look me in the eye through his thick glasses. The temperature of the room is frigid, and I wrap my arms around myself to keep warm.
“Ambassador, the reason I’ve called you in today is to discuss a disturbing video that was distributed to the entire faculty and student body. This video concerns your daughter.”
My dad raises an eyebrow. “A video?”
“Judging by your reaction, I take it this is the first you’re hearing of it?”
“Yes, it is.” My dad casts a sideways glance at me. “Willow, would you like to fill me in?”
“Uh, I’ll let the headmaster take this one,” I say.
Is there room for me to hide under the desk? Like, forever?
Headmaster Popov turns the screen of his laptop to face us. When he presses play, I bury my face in my hands.
The sounds of moaning and sex fill the office, and I can’t bear to look at it. Spending the afternoon with Alek kept me distracted yesterday, but now, I’m reliving the mortification from lunch all over again.
“That’s enough.” My father’s voice is tight, but stern.
The headmaster closes the laptop with a sharp snap. “Ambassador, your daughter has only been here a month, and already she has managed to tarnish this school’s reputation. We looked the other way when her dismal transcripts arrived, and we allowed her to continue her education here as a show of goodwill toward the United States. We have been more than understanding of the personal loss your family has recently faced. But this is beyond the limits of what we can tolerate here at the President’s Academy.”
My eyes are glued to the Persian carpet beneath my shoes, but I can feel my dad’s stare boring a hole into the side of my head. Silence descends upon the room, and I wait for my dad to explode and go off on me.
The only reason I was allowed to stay at the academy l was because of who my father is, and somehow, that makes everything so much worse.
I didn’t even want to go to this school, but everyone was determined to keep me trapped here. However, there’s a word the headmaster hasn’t spoken yet that hangs in the air between us. The word that offers my salvation.
Expulsion.
It looks like I’ll finally get my wish and get out of here, though if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have gone about it this way.
Seconds tick by, and I wait for someone to say something. Anything to break this suffocating tension closing in on me from all directions.
“Willow—“
My dad’s voice is interrupted by a commotion outside. All three of us turn our heads to the door, which bursts open with a loud sound.
Alek stands on the threshold, like a dark knight coming to save me. He’s got a tight grip on Johanna’s wrist, whom he drags inside and pushes toward us.
Mrs. Albrecht scuttles in behind them, shrieking. “You can’t go in there! The headmaster is in a meeting!”
“I know.” Alek keeps his voice calm and steady. His gaze seeks out mine, and when he gives me a cunning smirk, I know he’s about to pull out a trump card.
“Mr. Kurochkin!” the headmaster barks. “What is the meaning of this?”
Alek crosses the room and takes a seat on the corner of the desk, folding his hands in his lap. Headmaster Popov stares at him, his mouth opening and closing while sputtering for the words to scold him.
But Alek outranks him. His father’s name is on the damned building, after all.
