Page 62 of The Casualty of Us
“Oh, is that your threshold?” I snort softly. “Someone has to commit an egregious assault to my person before I can defend myself?”
I can practically hear Ollie’s voice in my head telling me totone it down, but fuck it, maybe next week, because today…today my fucking head hurts.
Maybe my heart too.
Either way, I’m tired of trying to keep it all in right now.
Sutton’s feature tense, little lines springing to life as she snaps. “Ophelia Fitzroy—”
“I told her to let me go,” I cut in, wanting this to be done. “Pull up the video. I can show you the exact moment that I told her to let me go.”
“Be that as it may,” Sutton lifts a hand, gesturing toward the computer. “Josey told me she was only trying to apologize to you.”
I can’t help the scoff that escapes at that, but discrediting her doesn’t really help my aims right now. “Regardless of her intentions, she was touching me without my permission, and I explicitly told her to let me go.”
“That’s a stretch, Ophelia.”
“Is it?” I cock my head. “Should the threshold be so high that something heinous has to happen before my actions could be considered justified?” A throb from my head has me clenching my fingers around the wood with a sharp breath. “Not to mention the fact that I’m easily triggered inhostile environments due to my history, and there are clearly extenuating circumstances as well.”
“Ah yes,” she sighs loudly. “I was wondering about that.” Her gaze flicks down to the computer briefly before coming back to mine. “Would you care to tell me about this situation between Mr. Flynn and yourself?”
My eyes start to drift toward her computer with a mind of their own, some masochistic part of me wondering what it all looks like from a bird’s-eye view before self-preservation has me snapping them back to her.
“No.” I clear my throat and keep it simple. “Just extenuating circumstances.”
“Oh my—” She laughs, the sound not entirely happy. “You may be your mother made over, but you definitely take after your father too.”
I blink. “And is that a problem?”
“No,” she sighs, picking up a pen from her desk and beginning to absently twirl it. “It does present us with a problem, though, if you continue this campaign of not wanting to accept any punishment.”
“I never said that,” I argue back quickly. “Only that my actions were the result of extenuating circumstances, which means that any reprimand should take that into consideration.” Another little throb has me fighting a flinch. “Given that my right to—”
“Yes, yes,” she hurries out. “No one here is trying to take away your rights, Ophelia, dear Lord.”
“Yet,” I can’t help but add, “you’d be surprised what people will try to take away from you if they think they can get away with it.”
“And there’s your mother.” Her lips barely lift before she shakes her head. “Two weeks of on-campus suspension.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I scowl. “One week, maybe, I’ll give you that, but—”
“You hit another student, Ophelia.” She straightens up in her seat, face falling into a stern expression. “I’ve already had her parents calling and demanding your expulsion—”
“No fucking way.”
“Language.” She raises a hand, glaring at me openly now. “I told Josey’s parents that was an unrealistic request, but you do have to answer for your actions, extenuating circumstances or not. I believe you were in full control of your faculties when you decided to take a book to the girl’s face, correct?”
I purse my lips, internally debating the various outcomes of arguing this further before dipping my chin reluctantly. Not wanting to get anywhere near my faculties.
She nods elegantly. “All right, then two weeks of on-campus suspension and probation for the rest of the semester after that.”
“Fine.”
“All your classwork will be sent to your tablet, and you can eat at the isolation table in the mess hall. No talking to anyone.”
“Fine.”
“No visitors in your dorm, and any visits to the library have to be prescheduled with a professor to supervise you.”
