Page 103 of A University of Betrayal

She possessed a feminine, attractive figure for her age and was therefore the best proof that shell did not equal contents. Her red hair was pinned up in a bun, which made her look more severe. The hair could just as easily have framed her face, and maybe I would have liked her a little more. I doubted it...

With both hands in the pockets of my black chinos, I walked ahead of the others, suppressed my emerging grin and dropped into the comfy couch, for the second time this semester. And my gut feeling told me that it wouldn’t be the last time.

The other guys sat down next to me, only Larissa opted for one of the armchairs.

“You’re sitting down like this is some sort of entertainment!”

The woman looked at us indignantly, but seconds later smoothed her face, making her look like a robot.

I would have loved to tell her that this was great entertainment for me, anddamn it,I would have liked to get her even more worked up.

“What are we waiting for?” I asked after a while when nothing happened, and Professor Copeland poured himself a cup of coffee. It’s a wonder he needed it as a Senseque. The Alpha would probably have hit the ceiling with coffee and scratched the couch.

“For...” the woman wanted to begin, but then turned to the door with a strained expression. “Finally! Your unpunctuality isinacceptable!”

I raised my eyebrows as more students in anything but uniform entered the office. First, I recognized the Senseque who was sleeping in our room, which we no longer occupied for obvious reasons.

Other guys from the Senseque pack entered the room, even the African-American guy who always hung out with the Alpha son. Nash himself wasn’t there today, but one face caught my attention.

It was director Copeland who smiled at her first, as if she had improved his day by disobeying the snippy professor’s instructions.

She stood there in a pair of skin-tight matte black jeans that emphasized her subtle curves. In addition, she wore brown leather boots and a cream-brown blouse that flattered her skin tone. She wore her black-brown hair back in a ponytail as usual, but with a few strands falling out. It made her look like a cute little rebel.

A female Senseque. Something extremely rare.

She let her head wander around the room and when our eyes met, I gave her my most devilish smile.

Her body seemed to stiffen, and her expression grew tense.

This wasexactlywhat I had wanted.

I had met her outside this room yesterday and at first, I had wanted to blow her cover, but then I had found it much more fun to drive her up the wall.

I knew she hated us. Ruisangor and Senseque had been enemies for centuries. Nicolaj had told us the bloodiest stories when we were little and nurtured our paranoia about the Senseque. But when she’d jumped on my words in the hallway yesterday and before that on the lawn…God,it had been wonderfully amusing.

“You know why you’re here.” Professor Harlow began to walk across the room and picked up a sheet of paper from the director’s desk.

“Should we?” I asked, giving the woman my best smile.

I noticed that the Senseque guys were stifling their grins, and even the professor was squinting out the window, concentrating on not smirking. Only Emely Copeland rolled her eyes.

The wannabe director paused and seemed to be struggling with herself.

“Youshould,indeed!”

She began to flip through the pages, then pulled out a silver pen with a thorny R engraved on it and made a note on the black leather clipboard.

Who still used clipboards these days? Even Jenny Bexley, who wouldn’t stop running after me, had an iPad by now.

“You have violated regulation twenty of the new student code on our campus.” She looked at all of us without lifting her head. “As a result, each and every one of you must either write a fifteen-page letter of justification to me for this offense, according to paragraph twentyH,or participate in cleaning the campus for an afternoon.”

Loud groans went around the room.

“You can’t expect us to wear this ridiculous uniform. We’re of age and this isn’t high school.”

“Miss Champson!”

The wannabe director put on her glasses as if to double-check that the protesting girl was Larissa.

---