Good for her.
But also. Why the fuck was I still in here?
“I had nothing to do with the fight either,” I said as I hold both hands out in front of me to do a spin. “See, not a drop of blood, sweat stain, or wrinkle in my clothes.”
Outside of the normal wrinkles, because only lunatics ironed their clothes.
“If Laura said you attacked her, we’re believing it,” Andrew said shortly, blatantly lying about what happened. Which proved my point about ironing. That lying, perfectly pressed asshole had all but agreed with his insane girlfriend.
“I wasn’t anywhere near her. And I wouldn’t attack her anyway. I have absolutely no reason to dislike Laura, and I’ve never hit anyone just for the fucking fun of it.”
“Language, Ms. Lewis,” the dean admonished. “If Andrew isn’t verifying your story, then that leads me to believe that Ms. Sandiconte, who is an exemplary student from an even more exemplary family, is telling the truth.”
I had barely opened my mouth to express how utterly unfair this was when he pointed a finger and said, “You’re in just as much trouble as these four, so it’s in your best interests to remain quiet and accept your punishment.”
Punishment.Was he for fucking real?
If he punished me worse than these rich douchebags who actually started the fight, I would lose my shit and start smashing up his fancy office—starting with the shelf of awards sitting in a brown cabinet right behind his desk.
Meadowridge was so prestigious, it had dozens of glass plaques dedicated to its greatness.
They’d look great in pieces.
My revenge plans were put on hold when I realized I’d missed some of the dean’s next words. “…feud between two of our best and brightest students has to come to an end. We’ve tried mediation, we’ve tried to bring your families in”—he glared particularly hard at Connor—“which was an even worse disaster than the initial fight. It seems, I have to try a new tack now.”
Connor remained silent, his face stoic, but every now and then, he leveled a glare on me. Which made absolutely no sense. How was any of this my fault?
Andrew, on the other hand, spoke up. “You could just expel Connor. I can dig up a dozen or more rules he’s broken just this year alone.”
Connor’s lips twitched, but weirdly, he didn't bite back at his enemy.
The dean, on the other hand, paled a touch and cleared his throat as he said, “That is not an option, and you well know it, Mr. Knightsbridge. But I have devised a different plan, and it’s not going to please any of you. But drastic situations require drastic measures.”
I had no idea what sort of punishment he was about to dish out, but I already knew that I was going to hate it. “You five will be moving into Bluebell House. You will live there for the rest of this semester, and even longer if I feel you haven’t learned your lessons. You will work together to make it habitable, to the standard you enjoy living; otherwise, you will live in a hovel and not one contractor in this state is going to help you get those repairs done. This will require the sort of teamwork that builds bonds and friendships. You all have more in common than you realize.”
There was a stunned silence in the room, and I was fairly sure I was the only one not familiar with this Bluebell House. Judging by their expressions, it was not a nice place to live.
I waited for the guys to object. Three of them hadn’t said a single word since we entered the office, and it appeared that Janitor Boy was napping. His eyes were closed as he perched against the wall. Wait…why was the janitor even here getting this sort of punishment? Shouldn’t he just be straight-up fired? Maybe I’d misread the entire situation when I’d found him “fixing” the vending machine. He was just another rich-ass punk who thought he was above the law.
I decided to speak up, not that it had done me any good the last time. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t think you allowed coed dorms here? Maybe there’s another punishment for me? I’m happy to clean the kitchens or write an essay on the dangers of violence in college.”
See, I could be the voice of reason in a room filled with stupid men.
The dean acted as if he only heard the first part I said. “Right, to ensure the school board remains happy with these mixed living arrangements, I’m going to add a teacher to the mix. To keep an eye on everything.”
He tapped his finger against his chin briefly, and before he said it, I already knew what was going to come out of his mouth. “Professor Ethan Sullivan is the only one who doesn’t appear to be afraid of you four and, therefore, won’t let you get away with murder.”
For the first time, a scowl formed across Connor’s handsome features.
Not that I had a chance to worry about that, since I was about to find myself sharing what sounded like a shithole of a house, with five men.
One of whom was the professor I was crushing on and had already crossed far too many lines with. Fuck.
8
EVELYN
Walking back to my dorm after the dean dished out his punishment, I convinced myself it was all a misunderstanding. Or a bluff. Or a test? Yeah, that had to be it. The dean was testing whether I could stand up for myself. Or something.
