I take a deep breath. There are still a few weeks of school left. Still time to figure stuff out. I’m way behind on finding colleges, because for most of my senior year, I figured I’d just grow up and be a rich heiress with no education needed. But now I want college. I want a career I love, maybe even one in botany. I could be a florist. Or a landscaper. Maybe Declan and I could start our own company and take back the job from the contractor Shelfbrooke hired. A deep blush creeps into my cheeks at the thought.
It’s way too early to be picturing my life with Declan, but it’s fun to do it anyway.
“Whoa,” Belle says, staring at her phone. “I just checked my school email and my Knight Watch…”
“What is it?” I reach for my phone.
“The dean is looking for you.”
Chills race across my neck. I load my school email and see several messages, from Ms. Beverly at the front desk and then one from Dean Thomas himself. I click on it, not sure what to expect. It’s not like I’ve ever met the man before.
Dear Ms. Brass,
Please visit me during my office hours at your earliest convenience.
Regards,
Dean Thomas
Belle reads over my shoulder. “Whoa.”
“That sounds bad.” I look up at her. “Is that bad? It’s bad.”
“It’s probably not good,” Belle agrees.
“I wonder if I’m expelled?”
“Maybe he has a birthday present for you,” she says, trying and failing at making a joke. My heart is pounding too hard to laugh right now.
“Or maybe I’m in huge freaking trouble.” I heave a sigh and open my closet, pulling out a Shelfbrooke uniform.
“What are you doing?” Belle asks.
“I’m going to go face my fate.” My shower and nap and cake for breakfast will just have to wait. There’s no way I could enjoy those things with this mysterious email from the dean hanging over my head. I tug on my uniform and brush my hair and give Belle a weak smile.
Then I walk to the front office.
Ms. Bev’s blonde bun is tight and neatly tied on top of her head. She smiles warmly at me, and I wonder if it’s just an act, or maybe she miles like this at everyone.
“I’m here to see the dean,” I say, drumming my fingers on the counter. “He, uh, emailed me asking me to stop by.”
“Of course,” she says, glancing at her computer. “I think he’s free right now.”
I walk on shaky legs as I step past the three chairs that sit just outside Dean Thomas’ office. The door is mostly closed, the frosted glass panel making it impossible to see inside. I step up and knock lightly on the glass.
“Come in,” a deep male voice says.
I swallow. I’ve never been to a real school before. I’ve always heard of the phrase ‘getting sent to the principal’s office’ but I didn’t realize how scary it would be to experience it in real life. Plus Dean Thomas is a dean, not a principal, and I’m pretty sure that makes this whole situation even scarier. If he kicks me out now, I’ll have nowhere to go. My mom would justloveit if I had to come crawling back to her.
The Dean is wearing a crisp suit with the Shelfbrooke Academy crest embroidered on his blazer. He’s not terribly tall, but he has a commanding presence. His salt and pepper hair makes him look slightly older than he probably is.
“Ms. Sophia Brass, I assume?”
I swallow. “How did you know?”
I glance at his computer, but the screen is facing away from me so I have no idea what it says. “You opened my email five minutes ago.”
I nod and draw in a breath. “Good ol’ email read receipts.”
