Chapter 16 Keeping Secrets
Keeping Secrets
It’s a matter of trust
Headmaster Wallace jumps onto the stage with one leap and holds out his hand to Rogue. “I’ll take it from here.”
Rogue hands over the tape, looking distraught. “I’m unsure what just happened…”
“You did nothing wrong,” I hear the Headmaster tell him before turning his attention on me.
I feel as if time is standing still. Numb from head to toe, I watch him cut through the tape and free both of my ankles.
But I can’t react at all.
Feeling disoriented, like I’m watching things from afar, I stare into those gentle ocean blue eyes and nod my head numbly.
Helping me to my feet, he puts on my corset before asking, “Are you steady enough to walk?”
Although I’m starting to feel light-headed, I whisper, “Yes.”
He guides me down the stairs at the back of the stage. But instead of leading me to the private room that Leōn took me to, he takes me through a back door that leads us out to the hallway.
The two of us walk in silence.
I’m far too embarrassed to look at him and stare down at my bare feet instead. He eventually stops in front of a door.
I glance up when he opens it, and I notice the gold plate etched with “Headmaster Wallace” on the door.
Turning on the lights, he directs me to a chair while he takes a seat behind a large desk. I glance around the office, shocked to see how sparse it is. Although the desk is stylish, befitting a man in his position, the only other things in the large room are a bookcase and a filing cabinet.
He chuckles when he notices my surprise. “I normally work at my home office,” he explains as he takes a seat at the desk. “This is mainly used for meetings.”
I nod slowly.
Setting his elbows on the desk, he leans forward. “Which is the reason I brought you here. So that we could talk in private.”
I lower my head and stare down at the blue carpet, suddenly aware of two things: the plush carpet is soft on my bare feet, and I’m not wearing any underwear.
“There are several things that we must address, Miss Lane.”
His serious tone scares me and I hold my breath, dreading his next words.
“First, I commend you for calling out your safeword.”
I look up at him in surprise, not expecting to hear praise.
“Knowing your aversion to bondage, we were concerned you might not.”
“You…” My throat catches, and I have to start again. “You’ve taught me well.”
“However,” he says, sitting back in his leather chair, “I was extremely disappointed to hear that you lied.”
I stare at him in shock, feeling my anger bubbling to the surface as I prepare to defend myself. “Whoever told you that is the liar! I’m certain I’m right, and I was only asking the others if they noticed the same thin—”
He holds up his hand to stop me. “I’m talking about the lie you told Mistress Kim.”
My anger instantly disappears and a feeling of shame takes its place. “I—”
“There is no purpose in making excuses, Miss Lane. I sent her to speak to you.”
I groan inwardly, realizing my mistake. He’s talking about the discussion I had with Mistress Kim in the bathroom. Feeling backed into a corner, I struggle to answer him.
“I didn’t want…” I swallow hard. “…to give in to fear, so I—”
“So you denied it, and look where that got you,” he replies harshly. “Trust is the foundation of BDSM, and you not only lost it with us as your trainers, but with the Dom who was working with you tonight.”
I lower my head shamefully because the truth is I really liked Rogue. “I feel bad about misleading him.”
“Remember this moment, Miss Lane,” he asserts. “It is far better to make a severe mistake within the safety of this structured environment than to cause yourself permanent damage when you are out in the world.”
“I will never forget,” I answer miserably. “I just wish I could talk to Rogue and apologize to him.”
“I will pass that on to him,” Headmaster Wallace assures me. But then he asks, “I would like you to explain to me what caused you to call out your safeword tonight. I noticed you seemed preoccupied when I called you to the stage.”
I swallow hard, not wanting to admit to the discussion I started in the lounge. “There was…a bit of a disagreement during the break.”
He leans forward, looking interested. “What kind of disagreement?”
I look at him sheepishly. “Disagreement might be too strong a word…”
“Go on,” he insists.
I hate having to admit it to him after seeing my classmates’ reactions. “I asked a few of my friends if they noticed anything unusual about Socrates.”
“What exactly?” he demands.
I struggle to say it out loud, and mumble quickly, “I believe Socrates is blind.”
When he doesn’t immediately respond, I glance up to study his face, hoping to see a reaction. But he keeps his tone cool and his expression neutral when he responds.
“I take it they did not agree with your assessment?”
My stomach sinks. “No, they did not.”
He’s silent for a moment. “But that isn’t the reason you failed to complete the scene, is it?”
“Nooo…but my confidence was rattled after barely averting my panic attack earlier.”
“And the combination of the two caused what happened on the stage tonight?”
“Yes,” I answer meekly.
“Miss Lane, it’s important that you ruminate over tonight’s events when you return home. Knowing the outcome, I want you to identify every decision you made that led up to ending your scene early, and what you would have done differently.”
I’m mortified that fear got the best of me tonight, but I can appreciate the wisdom behind his request and promise solemnly, “I will, Headmaster.”
“It’s vital that you learn from your failures or you will be doomed to repeat the same mistakes.”
“Yes, Headmaster,” I answer miserably.
“Miss Lane.”
I look up, expecting another reprimand, but he says in a gentle voice, “All of us our human.”
When my bottom lip starts to tremble, I quickly glance away so he doesn’t see the telltale shine of the tears in my eyes. My gaze lands on the solitary photo sitting on his bookshelf. It’s of a young girl with curly brown hair with two missing front teeth.
“She’s adorable,” I say as a form of distraction.
“That’s my daughter, Kaylee. She takes after her mother.” His eyes linger on the photo, and I notice his countenance suddenly seems melancholy.
I feel a stab of sadness when I recall hearing rumors that his wife died while giving birth.
Abruptly clearing his throat, Headmaster Wallace stands up. “It’s time we return.”
I follow him back to the practicum to finish out the evening. I’m acutely aware of the questioning looks from my friends as I sit back down in my seat, but I keep my eyes focused solely on the stage.
I have no clue what they must think of me at this point.
After making foolish assertions about Socrates, they all got to see me crash and burn on stage in front of them. What hurts even more is that I failed myself tonight.
There’s no coming back from that.
Driving home still in a daze, I let out a howl of frustration when I notice my car is almost on empty. I reluctantly pull into a gas station to fill it up.
My emotions come bubbling back to the surface as I quietly wipe away the tears while the man pumping my gas stares at me oddly.
I’m extremely grateful when I receive a text from Gwen.
Everything okay?
I smile through my tears. Somehow, she’s always had an uncanny ability to sense how I’m feeling. I turn my back on the nosey gas attendant and text her back.
Rough day. Getting gas. Will call when I get home.
Twenty minutes later, I get to my apartment and flop down on the couch. In the silence, I can hear the Liebermans arguing in the apartment above me, but I’m too drained to search for my TV remote to drown them out.
I’m startled to hear a knock at my door.
“It’s your fellow partner in crime…”
When I hear Gwen’s voice, I bolt off the couch and swing open the door. “What are you doing here, G?”
Gwen lifts up a champagne bottle she was hiding behind her back and smiles. “I figure we should celebrate your shitty day in style.”
Ushering her into my apartment, I give her a big hug and nearly squeeze the life out of her because I’m so happy to see her.
Her voice high-pitched with concern when I finally let her go, and she asks, “So, what happened?”
“I royally fucked myself over tonight.”
Gwen immediately gets a horrified look on her face. “Don’t tell me you went crawling back to Noah.”
I look at her as if she’s crazy, deeply offended by her assumption. “Of course not!”
“Oh, good!” she responds, laughing nervously. “That’s the one thing I couldn’t handle. If you asked me to help you hide a body, I’d be all over that, Soph. But you going back to Noah would be a hard no for me.”
“Fuck you,” I grumble, heading back to the couch.
Unperturbed by my sour attitude, Gwen pops the champagne bottle and pours us both a glass. “I have no idea what this is all about, but I promise we can figure it out.”
When I reluctantly take the glass from her, she raises hers in a toast. “Cheers!”
I stare at the glass, muttering, “I don’t even like champagne, G.”
She tilts her head. “That’s not the point, Soph. Chug that sucker down. We’re not going to let an atrocious day have power over us, now, are we?”
I roll my eyes as I reluctantly take a sip to appease her. But she tilts my glass up and grins. “Chug it like you mean it.”
The champagne tickles my nose unpleasantly when I swallow the overly fizzy drink.
Gwen downs her entire glass and sets it on the table, then lets out a loud burp. Despite my negative attitude, I can’t help but burst out in laughter.
She bumps her shoulder against mine. “See? I know exactly what you need.”
I smile despite myself. “You’re too much.”
“I know!” she agrees proudly. “Now, tell me all the gory details.”
I finish my glass, stalling for more time. The moment I open my mouth to speak, tears suddenly erupt as I detail everything that happened tonight, starting with how uncomfortable I felt during Mr. Onassis’s lecture. By the end, I’m so emotionally drained that I feel—nothing.