Page 147 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

“Not claiming,reporting.”

“Miss Winters?—”

“If I’m going to be suspended for my uniform, then they’ll be expelled, right? Maybe even some criminal charges thrown their way?” My stomach shrivels when I hear the word criminal. It’s too close to the real crimeI want to report them for.

Rigby studies me for a second. “How convenient,” he says dryly. “The day I inform you that you’re suspended, you tell me that you were being bullied.” He laces his fingers and leans forward, sliding them over the green leather padding on his desk. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner, Miss Winters?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. How am I supposed to sum up the chaos of the past few days?

“I...I was scared,” I admit grudgingly. “They told me it would just make it worse if I reported them.”

He tilts his head. “But now you’re courageous enough to come forward?”

“Well, yeah!” I swallow hard, mumble out, “I mean, yes, Mr. Rigby. You just suspended me.” I glance away. “It’s not like they can get to me outside of school.”

When he doesn’t say anything straight away, I reluctantly look back at him.

“Miss Winters, a suspension doesn’t mean you leave school grounds.” He looks disgruntled that he has to explain something so basic to me. “It just means you can’t associate with other students or participate in any social activities.”

“So I’m stuck here?” I whisper.

“Stuck?” he almost spits out the word. Whatever composure he had when I walked in here, it’s rapidly disintegrating. “No, Miss Winters. You are incrediblyblessedto be a student at Cinderhart Academy, and you should be eternally grateful to the families who sponsored you.”

He stands, walks around the table, and sits on the edge of his desk. “Honestly, Nim, if your parents weren’t such commendable students, the board would never even have considered your application.”

I don’t know what shocks me more—finding out that I had multiple people sponsoring me...or that the dean remembers my parents.

“You...you knew my parents?” I whisper.

“Of course.” His eyes narrow. “Everyone did. But their efforts at this institution won’t carry you any further. They got you in the door, Nim, but if you don’t start treating this opportunity for what it is, then even your sponsors can’t stop us expelling you.”

“Who are they?” I ask. “My sponsors?”

He studies me for a second, and then shakes his head and goes back to his chair. “I have no obligation to tell you.” His eyes find mine, piercing. “And honestly, I doubt it’ll even matter if this is the kind of behavior we are to expect from you.”

I sink back in my chair, defeated. He signs a piece of paper and slides it over the desk. “This is a formal notice of your suspension. Sign and date at the bottom.”

My hand shakes as I sign the document and slide it back over the desk. Dean Rigby doesn’t even look as he takes it and drops it in his OUT tray.

“Can I have that form?” I ask him.

“Which one?” he asks.

“The one...I need to report?—”

I cut off when he sits forward in his seat, a hard look in his eyes. “Think very carefully about what you say next, Miss Winters.” Those eyes scan my face and give my uniform a condescending glance. “Because if you make an accusation like that without the proof to back it up, you’ll be slandering those boys.”

His chair creaks faintly as he sits back and strokes a hand over his tie.

“Their parents have deeper pockets than you or I could ever imagine.”

Chapter 23

Nim

I breathe an audible sigh of relief when I step into the girls’ dorms. Accounting was worse than I thought it would be. I’m no closer to understanding what the hell’s going on in my textbook, and the teacher keeps calling on me to answer questions he knows I don’t know the answer to.

But that’s not the main reason why I’m in such a shitty mood. I’m disappointed in myself. More than I ever realized I could be, actually.

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