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“Dating my clients.” She huffed out a breath with closed eyes, resigned to the fact that she needed to give me more of an explanation than she currently had. “You're going to get a call from the Dean tomorrow?”
“I already got an email from him today asking for a meeting because he wanted to discuss your conduct.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked somewhat betrayed, but she was going to find out eventually, and to be frank, I didn’t want her to think that breaking up with me was going to be an option. We were going to sort this out, side-by-side, whether she liked it or not. I was going to fight for her.
“Please don't tell him I'm your girlfriend tomorrow.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Well, you're the one that just broke up with me, so it's not like I'd be lying.” It was low, but I was getting frustrated with the way this conversation was going.
“Good,” She quipped. “The Dean is going to ask a lot of questions about my practices, and I need you to answer truthfully. I can’t have you getting in trouble for things I’ve done.”
“Things you’ve done? What did you do apart from teaching me new techniques for learning? Granted, I still think that on field kinesthetic learning session was just an excuse to dry hump me, but your other methods work.”
She crushed her eyes shut, not in the mood for my jokes. “Please. Please. Please. Do not mention that to the Dean.”
“It was a joke, Teach. That’s no one's business, but ours.” I held back from hugging her because I wasn’t sure if she’d want that since she seemed so on edge. “But none of it’s true, so we’ll get this worked out. The Dean is a smart man. He’s going to figure out that Connor was talking out of his ass, and you’ll be cleared.”
She pulled her lips into her mouth in a failed attempt to stop her chin from quivering. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“There’s some truth to it.” She couldn’t look at me when she said it, which made me angrier than I cared to admit.
“Is This your way of telling me that youaresleeping with Professor Murphy? Because I know for a fact you didn’t help Connor cheat.”
Don’t break the desk. Don’t break the desk. DON’T BREAK THE DAMN DESK.
My hands were trembling, and I’d curled them into a fist just to try to get them to stop because imagining Aster with anyonebutme sent my brain reeling to places it shouldn’t.
“No,” she blurted out so quickly, I believed her. “He’s happily married with five kids. Not to mention he’s twenty years older than me.”
“Then what’s the truth?”
“I technically helped Connor cheat. They have evidence.”
“You did?”
“Not on purpose. I didn't realize he was using AI to write his essays, so when he brought them to me, I critiqued them, and he’d change them word for word.”
“When did you find out?”
She looked at me sheepishly before a single tear fell from her eye. “I was in the library with him and saw the AI app pop up. I confronted him about it, and he said it was no big deal. He thought no one would find out, especially since I helped edit them along.” She waved her hand flippantly. “He said he believed that since I edited them, they were technically considered his own work.” Pulling at her hands, she looked down. “I should have stopped him and reported him right then and there. I threatened to, but then I saw him with Rachel a day later, and I didn’t see the point. He wasn’t my problem anymore.”
“But that should have implication on him more than you.”
“It should, but his daddy works here, and he’ll probably just get a slap on the wrist for it. Unfortunately, I don’t think it will go that way for me. He and Rachel want to see me go down for some stupid reason.”
“They’re jealous.” She cut a confused glare. “They’re both jealous of you. You’re smart, beautiful and don’t give a crap about what other people think. They can only wish they had any redeeming quality that others might admire. You’re not going down. We’re not going to let it happen.”
“It already has. I’m suspended until the investigation is completed and if they find any more proof, they aren’t going to let me back. I don’t even know if they’re going to let me back after this.”
“You’ll be back. Connor’s going to go down for this, not you.”
She bit her bottom lip, and I hated that nothing I could say would calm her. “Either way, I can’t stay here.” Finally, she gestured to the giant suitcase. “At least I’d already planned to be at home with my mom, I guess.”
Tired of the distance, I took her hand, kissing each and every knuckle.
“I’m going to do everything I can to clear your name.”
