Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
EMMA
Kamila’s plan worked…kind of.
I’m sitting in the office of one of the many deans, waiting to hear what decision they’ve come to. The Dean of Students’ department is managing my side of the case, while the Dean of Faculty’s department is handling Grayson’s end.
My parents’ connections and donations helped move the investigation along quickly—specifically, a week and a half. That is, once it was clear that it was completely consensual, I wasn’t his direct student at any point during the semester, and we were first-time offenders.
God, that sounds dramatic for two consenting adults.
However, since we never informed any department head or dean, we still violated university guidelines.
The article didn’t help either. It turned it into more of a spectacle than a regular case, with Grayson’s name plastered everywhere along with pictures of us.
It annoyed the deans, but nowhere in the rules does it say I can’t be with him while writing an article about him for the school paper.
Sure, it’s extremely frowned upon, and they probably would’ve gotten involved with the Driscoll Wolf Weekly if not for my parents being who they are.
My parents. They were livid, worried, yet efficient and kind.
They came to visit on the Tuesday after it happened.
Words were exchanged, and I explained the situation, but it did not make them feel much better about Grayson.
My father’s head looked like it was about to explode, and I kept my mouth zipped shut as they lectured me for an hour.
Never once did they raise their voice, nor did they hesitate in doing everything in their power to keep me from getting expelled, but I could see the disappointment in their eyes, which was so much worse.
It wasn’t until the end of our conversation that I realized I never told them about the summer. For whatever reason, that softened them. As if knowing I met him before he became a professor here made a huge difference. What matters is that it made them feel better and freed me from another lecture.
I haven’t heard from Grayson. Nothing—no call, text, letter, or anything else.
I miss him.
I’ve been crying on and off. Sometimes, because of the paper and the hard work I put in that went to waste; other times, because of Grayson, even though he told me to wait for him. And other times, when I catch a student taking a picture or laughing at me.
I’m an emotional mess.
According to my parents, Grayson wasn’t fired, but he has one more meeting with a dean, just like me.
My head swivels to the door where Dean Lombardi enters and unbuttons his suit jacket as he pulls his chair in.
“Hello again, Ms. Brighton.” I smile, hiding the internal flinch at the use of the last name I haven’t become accustomed to, but that the higher-ups respect.
“I know it has been a hectic ten days, so I’ll get to the point.
” Nodding, I clutch the end of my blazer.
Yes, I wore a blazer to look more presentable.
Anything to help, right? “As you probably already know, you aren’t being expelled.
” My shoulders relax a bit. I’d suspected as much.
Still, I needed to hear it. “You will continue to be a student at Driscoll University, and as long as your editor is okay with it, you can continue to write for the Driscoll Wolf Weekly. However, I’m not sure when they’ll come to that decision. ”
“What about my last name?” Please let me use Haywood. I love my dad, but I don’t want to get a job because of his name.
The dean smiles tightly. “As a student-run organization, it isn’t up to us.” I let out a relieved breath. “However.” So close. “We would recommend using another name, at least when it comes to your articles. Not only in the interest of the paper and university, but for you, Emma.”
He’s right. Amelia was right.
I need to write under that last name, and I can continue to use Haywood in social settings.
It’s not an ideal choice, but this story was online, and the pictures were as well.
I say “were” because Jake and whoever his guy is have managed to delete most of the photos from social media and websites, but screenshots last forever.
“Understood.”
“Good, now.” He takes a piece of paper from the thin folder beside him and slides it over. “There’s the matter of signing this agreement, and you are free to go back to finals week.”
This is news to me. I pick up the paper and read it carefully.
Initially, it’s a summary of what happened. It was consensual, I wasn’t his direct student, but we still violated certain rules, blah, blah, blah.
“I have to go to counseling once a week next semester?” I raise my eyebrows at the dean.
He shrugs. “Standard procedure.”
I sigh. “We could all use a little therapy, I guess.”
The dean chuckles softly as my heart and breathing stop at the words that follow.
By signing this agreement, both parties acknowledge the potential consequences of maintaining or reestablishing a consensual romantic or sexual relationship if they are both part of the Driscoll University community.
Rereading the document, I find the list of consequences. Grayson would lose his job if he chooses to keep teaching here and is in a romantic or sexual relationship with me. Meaning he either quit or signed the document, agreeing not to see me again.
I double-check what I see next.
Nothing would happen to me?
Because of my parents. They saved me from being expelled entirely, unless I choose not to sign the agreement.
I almost word it out loud, then I look up to the dean. He gives me a dip of the chin, knowing what part of the document I’ve reached.
Staring at the pen, I close my eyes and ask what I need to before signing the document, since I have no choice but to do it.
“Did Professor Hayes quit, or did he sign the same agreement?”
The dean coughs. “I really can’t say, Ms. Brighton.”
My eyes narrow, and for the first time, I decide to pull a Jake.
“Dean Lombardi, I’m asking you because you’re here, and it’s more convenient than calling my father, who knows your boss’s boss, who will then reach out to one of the deans that’ll give him the answer, who will pass it on to your boss’s boss, who will hand it to your boss, then to you, which you’ll then be forced to tell me.
Do you feel like staying here for an extra hour?
” I check my dainty watch. “It’s already four forty-five, sir, and I’d much rather go home to study as much as you’d rather spend the night with your wife and kids.
” I point to the picture of them by the small library in his office.
He turns his head to look at the picture, then back to me with one raised eyebrow. I smirk. “It’s up to you, sir.”
Dean Lombardi leans back in his chair and, after giving me a semi-disgusted look—which leaves me completely unaffected—decides to take the easy way out.
“Professor Hayes didn’t sign, he quit.”
My smirk falls immediately, my eyes burning with tears of hope.
He chose us over his job? He chose me over his job?
“When?” I ask quietly.
“Yesterday.”
My entire body stiffens. He was free and clear to talk to me, but didn’t call to tell me the great news? Nowhere does it state that there would be consequences for us seeing each other if either one of us leaves the university.
What is there left to sort out?
My heart’s thudding so loudly with the number of questions flowing through me, unless he didn’t do this for us at all.
No. He told me to wait for him, only I’m not a patient person.
Before I can stomp my feet out of frustration in front of this stranger, I pick up the pen and sign on the dotted line. Sliding the paper over, I throw on my coat as Dean Lombardi says one last thing.
“It’s also important for you to know that the student who leaked the pictures did so using a university email address, which means they are also under investigation.”
I nod. “I know. My friend, Jake, is the one who told you guys that Samantha Anderson did it.”
Samantha Anderson. It didn’t surprise me one bit when I found out.
Jake linked the time of the email to when she was using a computer in the library to send it to a group of students.
The idiot made it so easy—using a school email address and a university-owned computer.
Jake also managed to obtain the security footage, just in case the university got lazy and didn’t want to investigate further.
Ben texted me three days ago and said she had been kicked off the paper. Her leaking the pictures and another phone complaint that came in were the last straw of her time at the Driscoll Wolf Weekly.
She got her just deserts.
Before Dean Lombardi says another word, I leave his office and then the building. I dial Grayson’s number, praying he’ll respond, but it goes straight to voicemail.
“What the fuck?” I say to my phone screen. I’m headed to my folks’ place for winter break in one week, and he decides not to answer the phone now? After he already quit?
Stepping out of the building, I see the gang waiting for me outside.
“How’d it go?” Levi shivers. I don’t blame him, it’s cold as all hell out here.
“I’m not getting expelled, and Grayson didn’t sign the agreement saying we can’t see each other anymore. He quit instead.”
Kami smiles. “That’s good, right?”
“Hell yeah, it’s good,” Jake says enthusiastically.
Shaking my head, I tell them about my failed attempt at calling Grayson.
“Maybe he’s busy,” Kami says nonchalantly. “The note he left might’ve been cryptic, but he seemed sincere when we saw him, Em. There has to be some explanation.”
Rolling my eyes, I let out an annoyed whine. “You’re probably right.”
A girl walks past us, and I don’t think much of it until I spot her shoes: light brown Ugg boots with a small heel.
I cringed at the shoes the first time I saw them.
They’re a little tacky for my taste, but I never said it to the person.
Now, all I feel is heat in my veins when I notice the pink puffy jacket that the same person is wearing, with light brown hair sticking out from her sequined hat.
“Samantha!” I yell.
She halts and slowly turns around, her eyes widening at the sight of me.
“Uh-oh.” Levi’s voice is low and genuinely concerned.
“Hey, Emma. How’s it going?” Samantha’s voice is airy and cheerful.
Hell fucking no.
I see red, and I’m about two steps away from lunging at her when someone’s arms lock around me.
“This is all your fault!” She stares at me, partly scared and partly amused.
“You did this because I was better than you! Because I was getting the articles, and you weren’t.
You’ve had it out for me since the day we met!
” I keep kicking and struggling to get free from whoever’s holding me.
I’m not a violent person, but the past two weeks have had me on edge.
I’m not one to spew venom without thinking, either, so I’m not completely sure what I’ll say next.
“Admit it! Admit you were jealous!” I shout.
She stares at me with a blank expression when I hear Jake say, almost into my ear, “She deserves an explanation, Samantha.”
The bitch continues to stare at me, and now Jake, who’s still holding me back.
“Let me at her,” I tell him. When Jake still doesn’t let me go, I look at Samantha again, who’s smirking. The expression makes my face heat, and now, my mouth has a mind of its own. “You’re a coward. A lazy, insignificant, jealous coward, and a terrible fucking writer.”
Whatever I said in that last statement finally makes her snap.
She practically growls at me. “That interview was mine. That could’ve been me with him, but no, you just had to have everything.
” I stop moving, and so does Jake. I didn’t expect Samantha to say any of this.
The thing that pushed her over the edge was seeing me with Grayson.
As far as I’m aware, nobody knew until that night.
“What the fuck?” Levi whispers from behind me.
What the fuck is right.
“You stole the big profile that should’ve been mine and then took all of the front-page pieces. You even got the editor position I deserved. This isn’t my fault!” she shrieks, making me flinch and raise a brow at the psycho. “It’s your fault for not keeping your knees shut.”
Her words hit me like a bullet, making it sound as if all Grayson and I ever were was just a cheap fuck.
Instead of crying, I let out a low, taunting laugh. “Call us even then, because you might’ve gotten me in trouble with a couple of pictures, but at least I still have a chance at a future in the paper and in my career. And what do you have?” I tilt my head and smile. “Nothing.”
Samantha’s eyes burn with hatred as she throws herself at me, but Kamila is quicker than Levi to cover me and pushes her off, grabbing her arm and twisting it back just enough to make her squeal.
She whispers something into Samantha’s ear that causes her to shake and slowly nod. As soon as Kamila releases her, she runs, almost slipping on a patch of ice.
Jake finally unwraps his arms, allowing me to plant my feet on the ground.
“What the fuck did you say to her?” Jake shakes his arms out.
She shrugs. “Empty physical threats, how you could get her kicked out of school because of who your parents are, the usual shit.”
Kami waves her hand in the air as if it’s an everyday thing for us. And although it may not be an everyday thing, it’s happened more times than it should have.
“Thanks,” I tell her, shaking off Samantha’s words. It’s not true. Grayson and I are dating. Were dating? I have no damn idea. The woman is crazy.
“No biggie.”
“Anyone up for pizza?” Levi asks as we all move on from what just happened.
I roll my shoulders back, close my eyes, and clear my mind, desperate to use this as a distraction. “Sounds good,” we all reply.
I relax at the fact that I told Samantha what I needed to tell her, and in reality, she’s just a miserable, harmless loser. But unlike a couple of weeks ago, I don’t feel bad for her at all. Not one bit.