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“Thanks,” I murmur as I go to step around him, but he stops me as he takes my hand. With practiced ease, he drops a set of keys into my hand. “Get out of here. As soon as you’re done with Simmons, take my car and go. Sticking around here isn’t going to do you any favors.”
My eyes meet his, searching for some kind of answers. Handing over your most beloved car isn’t exactly something people do on the regular where I’m from, so to me, this is a huge fucking deal. “Are you sure? How will you get home?”
“I can hitch a ride back to your place to get my car after school,” he says, squeezing my hand with an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Oceania,” Dean Simmons scolds, clearly not fond of being kept waiting.
I glance up at Milo one more time before letting out a breath and stepping away. Dean Simmons turns on his heel instantly, and I don’t miss the way that Colton, Jude, Charlie, and Spencer all watch me stalk off.
Despite Milo’s shirt coming down to my knees, walking through the school to get to Dean Simmons’ office is still humiliating. Knowing that beneath this shirt is nothing but a towel and my nakedness is very off-putting. I’d do anything to be happily dressed in my usual school uniform with a bra and panties keeping all my bits warm.
I follow Dean Simmons right up to his office door where he stands and waves me through with a heavy scowl. “Take a seat.”
I swallow back my fear. Why do I feel like I’m about to get in a ton of shit for doing absolutely nothing? Hell, I’m the freaking victim in this situation. I do as I’m told and drop down into the seat opposite his mahogany desk. “Is there something I can help you with?” I question, watching him stride through his ostentatious office toward his desk chair.
He doesn’t respond for a while just stares with his brow cocked. “You’ve caused quite the drama in my school over the past two days.”
My brows fly up and I struggle to keep the disdain off my face. “Umm … excuse me?” I say, unable to keep the incredulous laugh from bubbling up my throat. “You’re going to have to explain that one to me because I’ve not done a damn thing wrong. I’ve been a perfect student.”
Dean Simmons scoffs and it’s a sound that grates on every single one of my nerves. “You have distracted my students. Since you started yesterday, there have been fights in the parking lot, one of my star students has a fractured arm and two black eyes, my coach is going to have x-rays done on his chest, and now I find you strutting around my quad in nothing but a towel. These boys are here to learn, not to be distracted by your sexuality.”
I throw myself out of my chair and stand before him. “What a load of shit. First off, your star student is rocking two black eyes because he tried to attack me in my bedroom last night, and for the record, you’d be a fool to assume I could inflict that sort of damage. He came to me in the parking lot while also sending me death threats but I’m guessing that’s just going to be looked over because I’m a female and around here that counts for nothing. Your coach is a fucking pervert along with the rest of your students and if I had the cash behind me, your coach would be held up in a sexual harassment case for so long he’d never see a field again in his life. Not to mention I’m still a minor so that’s only looking worse for him. Besides, it’s not my fault the dickhead can’t catch a soccer ball.”
“Watch your tone, young lady,” he snaps, clearly not taking kindly to threats. “You’re making a mockery of my school.”
“You’re doing that all on your own if you can’t already see the issues lying within your school. It’s you that chooses to do nothing. I wonder what Charles Carrington would think of that?”
Dean Simmons’ eyes widen a fraction before the anger takes over. I smile to myself. That was a long shot, but it paid off. Charles Carrington is an important man around here, and judging by Dean Simmons’ reaction, he either owns the place or is on the board. “Don’t push me, Oceania. You’re already walking a thin line. I have a ‘three warnings and you’re out’ rule and today, you’ve pushed through two.”
“That’s bullshit. I haven’t done anything.”
“I’ve just sent my coach to the hospital for x-rays,” he reminds me. “Did you or did you not kick a ball into his chest.”
“I did.”
“And are you not strutting around my school in nothing but a towel when I have over five hundred young men trying to concentrate on their studies?”
