Page 43 of Before He Was Her Headmaster

She chews on her lower lip. “Uh… There’s a hole in the office wall behind the filing cabinet. When the file drawers are open, it’s like a wind tunnel of information.”

“Holy shit.”

“I never heard him talk about a woman like the way he talks about you. Except I didn’t know it was you until today.”

“Wow.”

“Does he know… about my crush?”

I shake my head. “No. And that will be our secret forever.”

She throws her arms around me. “You’re such a lucky bitch.”

I squeeze her into a tight hug. “Because I have a friend like you, maybe.”

“Shut up.”

I hug her even tighter. I will not shut up about being lucky to know her. Not ever. “I’ll tell you where we land,” I whisper in her ear. “If you feel like heading west at some point, too.”

* * *

I don’t go back to Sebastian’s office. Instead, I go downstairs to my room and text him.

S is okay. I’m going into town for some fresh air.

I need to clear my head. But when I get to my car in the parking lot, Sebastian is waiting for me. “You can’t leave campus.” His face is drawn tight with concern.

“Why not?”

“It’s not safe.”

“What’s going on?”

“Come into my office; let me explain everything.”

“Your office has a hole in the wall,” I tell him. “Behind the filing cabinet. So anyone can overhear whatever we talk about in there if putting student files away.”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Great.”

Instead of going inside, we walk around the main building to the quad. To anyone watching, we probably just look like a headmaster and student talking about school things. Nobody knows that he’s explaining that my grandfather’s lawyer has had to hire a private investigator to look into my parents’ misuse of my trust fund resources.

And now they’re angry—with me, who had no idea.

“They haven’t tried to contact me,” I point out.

“Your phone's been restricted to only accept incoming calls from a certain set of numbers.”

I pull it out of my purse. “No, it’s not….”

His face is tight, his arms taut as he crosses them over his chest. “It is now.”

“Since when?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“Sebastian!” I bark his name out loud, and he raises an eyebrow. Right. “Headmaster Craig,” I say sarcastically. “That’s something you should have told me. Or asked my permission to do.”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

---