That shuts me up. Because I don’t have a comeback for the truth.
“Now, I’ve convinced Mr. Kincaid not to pursue this, but you can’t go unpunished for your actions.”
“And what about Jackson? It isn’t hardly fair that he gets—”
“You’ve effectively ruined the rest of his college hockey career and potentially his chances of going pro. I’d say he’s being punished enough.”
Not even close.
Had I not been observant and had I drank from that cup, there is no telling what that jerk would have done to me. There’s no telling who else he’s done this to, but I’m supposed to just be grateful that they aren’t pressing charges.
And it’s not that I expected them to hold him accountable. They never do. The rich boys’ club always protects their own. It’s just that they somehow think we’re even. He tried to assault me, but because I fought back and hurt him, the guilty verdict goes out the window.
It’s bullshit.
“You have two options,” he finishes, his voice clipped. “Expulsion or community service. After class, you’ll report to Coach Barrett until the end of the season.”
“I wanted to apply for work study in between classes this semester,” I say quietly. “I need the money.”
He sighs, long and exasperated, like my words personally inconvenience him. “Well. You should’ve thought of that before you made such impulsive, self-destructive choices.”
I say nothing.
“What’s it going to be?”
I blink. “Community service.”
“All right.” He walks back to his seat. “Coach Barrett will oversee your assignment. You’ll assist with the hockey team. Practices, equipment, travel coordination. Whatever he deems necessary.”
My stomach sinks. “You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” His tone turns icy.
I clench my jaw, eyes burning. My fists curl against the strap of my bag.
“This is absurd—”
“It’s your only path forward,” he says, cutting me off. “Bury this, keep your head down, do the work, and graduate with opportunities. Or fight back, stir the pot, and I promise you, the Kincaids will destroy every dream you’ve ever had.”
His eyes narrow.
“Make no mistake, Ms. Collins. They have the resources. You don’t.” He pauses to write something on the notepad in front of him. “You can go.”
Just like that. No paperwork. No report. No hearing.
And I’m not expelled.
I guess I should be… relieved? Grateful?
The chancellor should want me gone. Jackson’s father certainly does. And yet… he doesn’t. He gave me this scholarship with no interview or explanation. Just an offer that felt too good to be real.
And now, instead of throwing me to the wolves like I expected, he’s protecting me.
Why?
I gather my bag and rise to my feet. Coach Barrett strolls toward the door and pulls it open. He doesn’t look at me as he gestures for me to follow.
The chancellor’s voice stops me in my tracks.
