Page 12 of Our Ruined Beginnings

“I don’t—”

“There are several witnesses who saw you, and most of them have stated they don’t feel all that comfortable with you walking around these halls after your display of aggression.”

My eyes widen at his accusations. Witnesses to what? Aggression?! My voice grows higher as I blurt, “Sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He sighs, his brow furrowing with annoyance. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t hesitate to remove you from this university. However, as your father is an old family friend—and a couple of people have spoken out in your defense, claiming this to be extremely out of character for you—I’m prepared to give you a second chance.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. I haven’t committed any vandalism, and I certainly haven’t shown any aggression while I’ve been here.” To be honest, I don’t think anyone would blame me after the “welcome” I had.

“Really?” he says, disbelief evident in his tone. “If you follow my assistant, Todd, he’ll show you where you can pick up the supplies needed to clean up your mess. Once it’s gone, there will be no more instances like this again, or you will be instantly expelled from this establishment. Do you understand?”

No, not even a little…

I nod, refusing to voice any more confusion. It isn’t getting me answers, and all I want is out of this office immediately.

Like a scolded child, I walk to and push through the door, mumbling a goodbye to Forrester before tucking my tail and trudging from his office. I have no idea what any of this is about, and yet, I feel thoroughly chastised.

Todd is on the phone when I make my way back to his desk, kicking imaginary rocks with my feet as he flicks his gaze to mine.

With a scowl, he slams the phone down and closes the laptop in front of him.

“Shall we?”

He gestures for the hallway, letting me pass, though it quickly becomes clear my short legs are no match for his. He takes the lead, and I find myself doing a sort of jog just to keep up as he guides us down one long hallway, then into another, where we stop to collect the cleaning supplies I’ll apparently need to clean up my mess … but what mess?

Todd carries on walking, and I follow, losing myself quickly in the words that were said back in the office. I’ve never been one for getting in trouble—nothing more than that of an average teen, anyway. I could pick at least a handful of people who would set me up for something like this, but who would vouch for me? And for what? While questions of what I could possibly have done to deserve a telling-off flood my mind, Todd halts his steps and I slam into his back, reverberating off the harsh set of him and landing on my ass with a heavy thud.

“Watch where you’re going,” he spits. I look up to glare at him, but he’s not facing me—instead, he’s turned to the side, looking down the hall that leads to the right.

I follow his gaze, and my muscles lock into place at the sight before us. A bitter chill travels over me, and my heart races in my chest as my eyes dart over every inch of the short hallway we’ve found ourselves in.

My throat begins to close. I take stock of the red staining the walls, running down the beige paint in rivulets. It pools in glossy puddles on the floor, coating the cracked glass littered along the linoleum.

Black treads form a path across the ground. Scraps of twisted red and black metal are strewn across the hall, leading to where a wrecked tire balances against one wall, an unnatural bend to its shape. An all too familiar ache settles on my chest.

My breaths grow shallow, and sweat beads in my palms and across my forehead. My vision swims as unfettered emotions pool in my eyes.

While I don’t exactly remember everything that happened that night, I remember the images that came after. The ones I spent hours looking at—slipped under my door at home. It’s like being thrown back to that day three months ago, when everything changed.

A bell rings somewhere in the distance, breaching the white noise that floods my ears. Footsteps begin to sound around me, hushed whispers and loud gasps attacking my senses, but I can’t move from my position on the ground. Black spots dance in my periphery, closing in as the world around me dims.

Just as I try to convince myself there’s no way anyone would believe I could possibly do all this by myself, I laugh internally at my naivety.

It’s no wonder the blame for it landed at my feet.

After all, I’m the reason the wreck happened in the first place.

Maybe I deserve this.

Scalding water slaps against my limbs, burning away the stench of chemicals absorbed into my skin. My body is raw from the loofah, but still, the red from whatever they painted the walls with lingers. Tiny cuts on my arms ache with every bead of water that sinks into them, and my eyes burn with unshed tears.

Four hours. Four hours I spent on my hands and knees, crawling along the dirtied floor with a rag held tight in my grip, a trash can and bucket of soapy water to the side.

Todd checked in periodically, ensuring I was doing a good enough job. Students watched, lingering between lectures to laugh at the girl on the floor. Kinsley tried to help, pleading with me that I give her something, but I pushed her away.

She didn’t cause this.

I did. I made a mistake—a stupid fucking mistake—and this is my punishment.

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