Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
ANNIE
“Some of you have done a nice job improving your work,” Professor Parks announces to the room as the stack of essays makes its way around the lecture hall. Everyone plucks their own out as the stack comes around.
My position toward the back means I wait a painfully long time before I finally get my hands on my essay. My heart sinks when I flip past the cover page and see no grade on the first page yet again.
“And some of you,” Professor Parks continues as he paces the front of the hall, “are probably wishing they dropped my class. Unfortunately for those students, the withdrawal period has officially ended. Now is the time to pull out all of the stops to ensure you don’t fail my course this semester.”
I swear I can feel his eyes seeking me out in the crowd.
I’m sitting low enough in my seat to hide behind the women in the row in front of me. I’ve sat behind them before. One woman seems to be Professor Parks’ biggest fan based on how she ogles him with her friend. Helpfully for me, her crush leaves her stretching to sit up as high as possible in her seat to try to be noticed by him while still sitting back far enough to pretend she’s not seeking his attention.
I feel sad for her. She has no idea what kind of man he is. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Professor Parks’ class drags on for the next hour. I catch myself doodling in the margins as he covers a selection of fairy tales I’ve already read and researched in the hopes of staying on top of things in his class. He mostly regurgitates the same information I was able to find on my own online.
Usually, I like his lectures despite my feelings about the man. Today, he seems to be phoning this one in.
As the lecture draws to a close, Professor Parks holds up a finger for everyone to wait a moment before packing up to leave. “I need to see the following students during my office hours this week: Mitch Davies, Brooklyn McMaster, and Annie Kirkpatrick.” Hearing my name makes my stomach drop. “Class dismissed.”
The woman in front of me inhales deeply and puts a hand on her chest dramatically as she looks at her friend. “Did the professor just call my name or am I hallucinating?”
“He totally called your name,” the friend confirms.
“Wow.” The woman, who I assume is Brooklyn, giggles happily.
Without thinking my actions through, I reach out and tap Brooklyn on the shoulder. I bite my bottom lip anxiously as she turns around to give me her full attention.
“Hi?” She looks confused.
I want to warn her about Professor Parks. I want to encourage her to bring a friend with her. I don’t want her to wind up in the same position I was in, but I’m also not ready to voice aloud the experience that I’ve been trying to keep buried while I try to get my head above water again in the class.
“Did you need something?” Brooklyn prompts when I say nothing.
I clear my throat. “Oh, I was going to see if you wanted to go to Professor Parks’ office together, since I guess we’re probably going for the same reason. I get called for office hours too.”
Safety in numbers, maybe?
Brooklyn scoffs. “Uh, no thanks.” She shares a bemused look with her friend. “I think I can handle the hot professor all by myself. Thanks, though.” She waves her fingers at me and then practically shoves her friend down the row toward the aisle in an attempt to get away from me.
That didn’t go nearly as well as I hoped. I’m not sure what I expected though, blindsiding her like that. She doesn’t know why I offered to go together. She thinks her crush is harmless.
She doesn’t know because I’m too much of a coward to do anything about Professor Parks.
Maybe I can’t do anything to try to protect Brooklyn; I can still try to protect myself. I shove my notebook into my backpack, sling my bag over my shoulder, and head down toward the front of the lecture hall with all the excitement of a pirate’s captive walking the plank.
Professor Parks adjusts his glasses as I walk up. “How can I help you, Miss Kirkpatrick?”
“You said you needed to see me,” I remind him. I’m not interested in being cornered during office hours again.
“Yes, to discuss whether you can pass my class at this point in the semester.” He raises his voice to full lecture volume, ensuring the last of my classmates hear him as they take their time packing up from class.
I’m not intimidated. Let him pique their interest—that gives me the audience I want in order to feel safe speaking with him.
I nod calmly. “Okay, I’m happy to discuss your concerns here.”
The professor sneers at me. “I have a job to do, Miss Kirkpatrick. I don’t have time to meet at your whim. You can make use of office hours like the rest of your peers if you care enough to try to salvage your education here.”
My head reels back as he spits vitriol in my direction. His face appears calm but his ears turn a dark red, giving away the magnitude of his anger. He doesn’t like me trying to undermine him.
Professor Parks won’t risk his tight grip of control slipping. He wants me to come alone during office hours so that he can lord his power over me.
But I’m tired of being afraid of him. I’m going to see him during office hours before this week is over, and this time I’m not going to handle things quietly when he inevitably oversteps again.
I am done being pushed around by absolute assholes .
What’s the fastest way for a day to go from bad to worse?
Being cornered by your ex-boyfriend.
I frown at Cameron as he takes a seat in the striped chair across from me. I picked the empty group project space to sit and wait for Lainey’s shift to end because we’re allowed to talk quietly here. Usually, library etiquette says if someone is sitting here, the space is in use and you should move along.
Of course, Cameron doesn’t exactly adhere to study etiquette. I’m not sure how much studying he’s done since coming to college.
He’s a far cry from the guy I met at nerd camp.
We’ve both changed a lot.
“Waiting for your boyfriend to come tutor you again?” Cameron crosses his arms smugly over his chest. I can’t believe he’s making himself comfortable.
With a sigh, I tell him, “Leave me alone, Cameron.”
“Leave me alone,” he mimics in a high-pitched tone that sounds nothing like me. In his regular voice he adds, “No wonder you weren’t going to cut it at Drizzle. You need to grow some thicker skin.”
Unbelievable.
“When your dad talked to you about me, did he make sure to mention he warned me I would get sick of you?” I pin a hard stare at him and don’t dare so much as blink. If he wants to play chicken, he picked the wrong day.
My normal patience is gone. My fuse has already run out today.
“He mentioned I shouldn’t settle for a gold digger with no prestige to her name,” he retorts smugly.
Funny that he still thinks he’s capable of hurting me.
“I wasn’t a gold digger when you were waxing poetic to me about how proud you felt to have a smart girl on your arm.” When we started dating in high school, I never imagined anyone could treat me better than Cameron. We’ve come a long way in the wrong direction since then if he’s this quick to reduce me to a money-hungry social climber.
Cameron shrugs petulantly. “You were clearly just better at hiding things before the fire.”
I stiffen.
The fire stole almost everything from me. My whole life went up in flames, and I didn’t ask Cameron for a thing. Not even for a place to stay when my mom and I had to resort to sharing a motel room while she battled the insurance company.
“What’s wrong with you?” I hastily shove the book I’m currently reading into my backpack and yank the zipper closed. “We broke up. Just leave me alone and move on to someone else. You’ve always had a fan club—go bother one of them.”
Cameron stands up at the same time I do. He doesn’t know when to stop. “Oh, is that the real reason you broke up with me? You got tired of comparing yourself to my fan club knowing they were all better suited to me than you ?"
I feel the tension in my chest snap. As much as I don’t enjoy conflict, everything that has happened over the past several months hits me like a tsunami, washing away all sense of rational thinking.
“Just shut up. The number one member of your fan club is you, Cameron. And yeah, I couldn’t compete with your ego, you absolute prick of a narcissist. Not that I wanted to or needed to.”
I sling my backpack over my shoulder and take a deep breath. I’ve never name-dropped before but there’s someone who owes me. The least he can do is let me stand on the power of his name.
“My father is Franklin Dandridge. His family line is worth ten of yours so if I’m not desperately seeking his time or attention for the family fortune, I certainly did not need to go after yours .” My voice is thick with scorn.
After a second of silence, Cameron huffs out a laugh. “Are you delusional? What are you talking about?”
I enunciate my words more slowly this time. “My father… is Franklin Dandridge.”
His smirk falls away as he realizes I’m being serious.
“And if you’re wondering now how my mom got knocked up by a Dandridge in high school, you should probably reevaluate what you think you know about my last name.”
Kirkpatrick.
Not the most rare surname but not exactly a common one in this state either. I manage to fly under the radar because I never point the association out.
Not usually, at least.
The Kirkpatrick line has long been involved in law and politics in this area. My grandfather—my mom’s dad—was a highly respected federal judge before retirement. And now, my grandparents focus predominantly on high-profile charity work.
Of course, I know most of these things through online sleuthing since my mom hasn’t had a relationship with her family or my father’s since I was born.
Still, the point stands. High society cares more about bloodlines than actual relationships, and my blood is just as blue as anyone’s. If anyone was dating below their class between us, it was me all along.
And I can see the moment Cameron finally makes the connection for himself, eyes widening slowly as his mouth morphs into a horrified gape.
His voice is raspy as if his mouth has gone dry when he asks, “How could you hide something like that?”
With no cares left to give, I taunt Cameron with wide eyes and an innocent shrug. “Well, Cameron… I guess I just wanted to make sure you weren’t a gold digger.”
I recognize the way he groans—the way he always does when he’s realizing he made a mistake.
For once, his father can’t fix this mistake for him. I do hope Cameron tries to get Kurt’s help anyway. I would love to be a fly on the wall for the conversation where Cameron admits to his father that I had a so-called pedigree all along and Cameron had no idea.
As I walk away, done with Cameron and the whole library at this point, he tries to call after me. I don’t pause or even acknowledge him.
That’s one asshole finally dealt with. It feels amazing to finally stand up for myself the way I should have done all along. And I can’t help but to think that some of the confidence to finally be able to do that came from all the sparring with another asshole in my life that I can’t seem to shake.
I’m ready to find Miles and go home. Together… as complicated as things might be.