Page 8 of Bleeding Hearts
I stand and walk his way. “It’s Lally,” I remind, and he frowns, but I slip past him and sit hesitantly in one of the two chairs in front of his large desk. His office is big, with a fireplace and a small library to the left, but I focus on him as he sits. A moment later, the door opens and shuts again, and Ms. Derry sits in the chair next to me, a notepad held in hand.
“Laila—”
“Lally,” I correct forcefully, growing annoyed.
His eyes narrow. “Ms. Stewart, do you know why you were asked to see me today?”
“Because my tits are distracting your staff?” I joke before blinking. “Sorry, I make inappropriate jokes when I’m nervous. So sorry.”
“Indeed.” He leans back, eyeing me like he’s unsure what to do with me. It isn’t mean, but it isn’t welcoming either. There’s a reason he’s the dean. He runs a tight ship, and in the last ten years, he took Pine Valley to the top of its league, which is why we all come here.
It’s why I fought so hard for a scholarship just like Evan, because it’s the best.
I might have forgotten that down my path of self-destruction, but as I sit before him, I’m reminded of how badly I wanted this just a year ago. I cried when I got the acceptance letter.
It wasn’t just my ticket away from home, but it was also my ticket to freedom. As he stares at me now, though, I have a sinking feeling my future is going down the drain.
“This is not a joke, Ms. Stewart. Not only have you missed ninety percent of your classes in the last six months, but you have also been picked up by campus security ten times, reported by other students for abusive behavior, and have been caught more than once on film in derogatory situations. Like last night, for example, when a student captured you urinating in the school fountain as you shouted . . . What was it again, Ms. Derry?”
“I believe it was, ‘Fuck the patriarchy, drink my piss, you old farts,’” she supplies with a serious face, and I have to hold back my laugh.
“Yes, that. These actions breach the contract you signed when you accepted your scholarship, Ms. Stewart.”
My entire body goes cold. “What do you mean?”
“You signed a code of conduct. We offer scholarships to those who we believe are exceptional and will not only benefit from learning here, but also be an asset to this college. Your actions in the last six months don’t represent that. You have breached your scholarship agreement, and I’m afraid we have to rescind it.”
The words echo in my aching head as adrenaline pumps through me, alongside fear. I have been drifting, not really existing, but now everything comes to a screeching halt and I panic.
“Please give me another chance,” I plead. I’ve never begged for anything—not my parents’ love nor Tommy’s life, but I beg now. “Please, this is my home. I just got a little . . . lost.”
He frowns. “You have extenuating circumstances. The unfortunate events have been taken into consideration, and we gave you leeway, but you have not improved.”
“Unfortunate events?” I sneer. “Where your teacher stalked and killed my friend? Where a serial killer roamed campus killing students? I’m sorry if I didn’t just get over that in a few months like you wanted me to, but my friend fucking died. He’s dead. Do you understand that?”
“We do. We offered grief counseling?—”
“Fuck your counseling. Just don’t do this, please.” My voice turns desperate, not angry. “Please don’t take away the only thing I have left.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Stewart, but it is out of my hands. You may come up with the money to pay your tuition and stay. That is all I can do. Your scholarship is gone. I really mean it. It’s out of my hands. I wish it weren’t. This was the board’s decision, not mine.”
Sitting back in the chair, I gape at him. “So that’s it? A student is struggling after she witnessed the brutal murder of her friend, and your response is to cut ties and abandon them?”
He winces. “Ms. Stewart, we tried to help. We sent letters, and everyone has been trying to help you?—”
“Whatever.” I stand. “How much are the fees, and how long do I have?”
He stares at me sadly then looks at a folder before him. “Fifty-two thousand, five hundred dollars. We will deduct your scholarship so far, so forty thousand. It’s due in twenty-eight days.”
Fuck me in the ass.
The amount overwhelms me, but I refuse to show that.
“Fine, I’ll be here in twenty-seven to pay it. This is my home and my future, and nobody gets to take that away from me. I don’t need anybody. I can do this alone.”
I storm from the room and make it into the corridor before the panic attack sets in.
I never had them before Tommy’s death, but they seem to happen often now. The hallway spins, my head rings, and my breathing grows faster. Everything is too hot and close.
