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I turn slowly. Punishments at Welles rarely differ. The guys lose privileges and extra curriculars or get maintenance. The girls lose the extras or get stuck licking envelopes and answering phones. There have been a few times demerits were given out ceremoniously, which wouldn’t faze me, frankly. I’d probably garner applause, though I don’t imagine this school wants to celebrate my boxer-short situation.
My brows raise in anticipation as I rest my back against the door.
“You were with Miss Bennett the other night. You two are friends, yes?” The temple tip of his glasses rests between his teeth as he studies me.
“We’re friends,” I say, my chest cavity emptying of all feeling—no heartbeat, no breath.
His mouth ticks up on one side and he slides his glasses back on his face.
“You know her father is announcing his campaign very soon.” He smirks.
I breathe in deeply and blow out a heavy exhale that drops my shoulders several inches.
“I do,” I respond.
“Perhaps you might be able to work with Miss Bennett and convince him to host his announcement here, at Welles.” His eyebrows lift over the rims of his glasses to accent his greedy ask.
“I’m sure he has plans for that already, and I don’t know that she would be the one to—”
“It would really help out the school,” he interrupts. What he means is they want the cachet of a future congressman on campus—on television.The board would be pleased, and the happier the board, the bigger his bonus. That house he lives in, the perks of his position, the pseudo-power; it’s all so tenuous. Headmasters stay at Welles for decades, but they sell their souls for the gig. I’ve grown to realize the position has very little to do with educating young minds. It’s really about influence and pushing the right people in high places to do the bidding of a few.
A breathy laugh slips out as I smile in response, glancing to the floor to keep myself from spilling out the unkind words sitting at the tip of my tongue. Sauntering toward his desk, I lift my chin to meet his expectant stare.
“I would rather scrape gum from the inside of toilets for the rest of the year. I’ll tell Vic he’s got me every Saturday morning until he hears otherwise. And don’t worry, next time I’ll tell my mom you said hi.”
He doesn’t even wince at my words. My mom isn’t as important as Brooklyn’s dad. And he doesn’t care about my mental wellbeing or how my family relationships might impact my mood—my everything.
I pull the signed pink slip from his desk and shove it into the side pocket of my backpack, which I swing around to carry the right way as I march proudly through the main lobby and hall before crossing the quad and heading to my room for my goddamn pants.
Chapter5
Brooklyn
Cameron’s performance in our econ class was the talk of campus by the time lunch rolled around. Morgan couldn’t get enough of it, and she kept grilling him at lunch about why he decided that, of all things, would be funny, or why not go full monty and sprint through the next pep rally.
Cameron kept insisting it wasn’t some idea he cooked up for attention, which is what Morgan thinkseverythinghe does is about—attention. I get that it’s not; it never has been. I’ve never dug deeper to find out why, though. None of us have. Even Theo, who is closer to Cameron than any of us.
I decided to keep my plans with Cameron this evening off my roommates’ radar. Partly because I didn’t want them to tag along to see whatcrazy thingCameron might do next. But if I’m being honest, it’s mostly because I didn’t want to face Morgan’s scrutiny anymore. Her inquisition at the gym yesterday was enough to already make me feel uncomfortable around a guy I’ve known for almost six years as a friend. If she dug in with teasing or shot me suspicious glances on my way out tonight, I don’t know if I would have come. And I want to be here. I want his help, and I want to spend time with him. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that, but if Morgan were involved, it would mean everything but the simple stuff.
Of course, that also meant telling a lie, which is not in my skillset. I went with dinner plans with my father because those are always last-minute affairs that none of my friends have any interest in mooching off of. My dad is very serious, something not everyone appreciates. And when my mom isn’t around to soften his edges, he can be rather sharp. Not everyone can take that.
The walkways are empty, and through the large panoramic window on the second floor of the fieldhouse, I see a few girls running on the treadmills. They’re two years younger, and they don’t seem to be scanning the grounds while they run, so I take a seat on the brick bench that wraps around the front of the gym.
The football team spills out of the side door a few minutes after I settle in and start scrolling through my social media, so I slip my phone in my side pocket and stand, pulling my legs up one at a time to stretch my quads. Cameron is laughing alongside Theo as they walk toward me, and my chest tightens in sudden fear that Lily is going to show up nearby to meet Theo for something. I don’t know why I feel like I’m supposed to be hiding, but I do.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Cameron scans my body which is cloaked in a tight-fitting long-sleeved running shirt and my trademark black leggings. I guess I do look like a burglar.
“It’s a little cold, so I thought I should dress warm?” I smile awkwardly, patting my palms against my hips while I bounce on my feet.
“You’re dressed fine, Brooklyn. Don’t let this asshole judge you because he thinks everyone should suck it up and wear shorts in forty or below.” Theo slaps Cameron with an open palm to the chest then reaches down, pinching a sizeable patch of hair on Cameron’s calf then yanking it hard.
“Oww, fucker!” Cameron shouts, hopping around while pulling his knee to his chest and rubbing his leg.
Theo nods to me with a smug grin then glances to his friend.
“Don’t let him bully you, Brook. He’s got weaknesses,” he teases before reaching a fist toward me to pound. I do before he begins to walk backward toward the dorms. That’s when it hits me—he’s probably going to see Lily.
This is why I can’t lie. Too many loose ends to consider.
