Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“Are you planning to invite me in?” he asks.
“I need to think about it for a minute, Headmaster Peterson.”
“It’s ‘Principal Peterson.’” He smiles. “There’s no need for you to be formal with me when we’re alone, though. You’re my grandson.”
I open the door wider, ushering him inside.
“The air mattress and the IKEA table are a really nice touch.” He jokes. “Very elegant.”
“I think so, too.”
“We’ll get your Harkness table in here this afternoon. About last night, though…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I had to bother you with such a request. I couldn’t risk sending one of the regular teachers.”
“Why not? Is their sleep more valuable than mine?”
“You weren’t sleeping.” He rolls his eyes. “But no. If I’d asked one of them, the gossip on this campus would’ve been deafening by now.”
“The teachers gossip with the students?”
“You’d be surprised how much.” He opens my blinds. “Whenever classes aren’t in session, this place practically runs on rumors. Anyway, was the student in question remorseful when you picked her up?”
“Yeah.” I save her, even though she doesn’t deserve any grace.
“When you arrived, did you see her meeting with anyone significantly older?”
“All I saw were police officers.”
“Okay, good.” He taps his chin. “I’m collecting all the facts before crafting a punishment. Do you have any ideas?”
“Nope.” I shake my head, not wanting to think about this girl ever again. If I’m lucky, I’ll only see her in passing while I’m here.
“I’m glad you’re joining me here at Exeter to start over,” he says. “I think this will be a nice change of pace since your divorce.”
“I hope so.”
He eyes the tattoos on my arm, knowing exactly what they stand for, the pain and suffering I’ve survived and had inked as a reminder.
His son’s name—my deadbeat ass father—has never deserved a spot, but I placed his name in small cursive under the Latin phrase “Things That Tried to Destroy Me.”
“I’m so sorry, Liam,” he says, “I’ll never forgive myself for contributing to him being born.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I wish I could believe that.” He gives me a hug. “Whenever you need me, I’ll be around.”
“Thanks.” I wait until he’s walked down my pathway before returning to my office.
I pull a random book from a box and credit myself for not thinking about last night for the past five minutes.
I can forget ever seeing her. This is progress.
Flipping the cover open, I read the opening lines.
I met the most beautiful woman at a bar last night.
Ink-haired with chestnut-colored eyes I’ll never forget, she
I shut the book and opt for a cold shower.
4
GENEVIEVE
Sunday morning
Exeter, New Hampshire
The wood ceiling fans creak and hiss with every spin, spreading the last of summer’s warm air around a stuffy room. Even though our academy boasts about its “billion dollar endowment,” it refuses to install air conditioning in all its buildings.
I’m pacing outside the principal’s office, wringing my hands while my mind races in a million directions. I’ve been summoned here so many times this year that I can distinguish every line on the floor.
“Miss Edwards?” The secretary peers her head around the corner.
“Yes, Miss Swift?”
“Principal Peterson is ready to see you now.”
“Okay.” I smooth my plaid uniform skirt before walking down the hall.
I step in front of the oversized doors that enclose his office and take a deep breath before knocking.
“Come in, Miss Edwards,” he says.
I walk inside, expecting to see him sitting in his leather desk chair like usual, but he’s standing by the windows.
With salt and pepper hair and faint wrinkles, he looks exactly like the other headmasters whose portraits hang high on his walls.
“Have a seat,” he says, his voice firm.
I oblige, and he waits several minutes before turning around to face me.
“Aren’t you tired of seeing me in this office, Miss Edwards?”
Beyond tired. I bite my lip and nod in response.
“Do you have any idea how many scenarios were running through my mind when the police called me last night?”
“Sir, I’m sorry that I—”
“Don’t speak.” His eyes are glacial. “Don’t you dare speak. I was scared shitless that they were moments away from telling me they found you severely injured or dead.”
“Of course, by the time I get through with you today, you might wish that was your fate.”
I swallow, and the hairs on my neck rise one by one.
“There are three offenses at this academy that are worthy of immediate expulsion,” he says. “Plagiarism, sexual misconduct, and going AWOL. Are you aware of that, Miss Edwards?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you aware that the legal drinking age in this country is twenty-one, and you’re still a fucking minor?”
His harsh tone rocks me to my core.
All I can do is nod.
“If you weren’t at the top of your class with exemplary marks, and your parents weren’t who they are, you would be packing your things and applying at the nearest public school. Because for what it’s worth, none of those things mean shit to me at this moment.”