Jude launches forward and the closer he gets, the clearer his bruises become. “I told you to stay the fuck out of it,” Jude snarls as Milo grabs my arm and tugs me away from Colton’s cold glare.
“Or what?” Milo scoffs. “You can’t fucking touch me and you know it. So what else could you possibly do? You’ve backed yourself into a corner. Are you going to go run to Daddy and hope he can help? But remember, to do that, you’d have to tell him exactly what it is you did.”
Fury ripples over Jude’s features and I watch as Charlie and Spencer subtly move in by his side, ready to hold him back if he plans on fucking shit up. “Oceania Munroe,” my name is hollered, somehow heard loudly over the noise. I glance around and within moments, the crowd starts to part.
Dean Simmons walks through the bodies and when he reaches the front of the circle, he stares at me with a dangerous glare. “Get in my office now.”
Well shit.
Chapter 9
Milo steps to the left, blocking Dean Simmons’ view of me and quickly grabs his shirt from my hand as students begin scattering away. He bunches the shirt in his hands, finding the opening before slipping it over my head so I don’t have to take my hands off the towel and risk it dropping to the ground in front of all these guys.
“Thanks,” I murmur as I go to step around him, but he stops me as he takes my hand. With practiced ease, he drops a set of keys into my hand. “Get out of here. As soon as you’re done with Simmons, take my car and go. Sticking around here isn’t going to do you any favors.”
My eyes meet his, searching for some kind of answers. Handing over your most beloved car isn’t exactly something people do on the regular where I’m from, so to me, this is a huge fucking deal. “Are you sure? How will you get home?”
“I can hitch a ride back to your place to get my car after school,” he says, squeezing my hand with an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Oceania,” Dean Simmons scolds, clearly not fond of being kept waiting.
I glance up at Milo one more time before letting out a breath and stepping away. Dean Simmons turns on his heel instantly, and I don’t miss the way that Colton, Jude, Charlie, and Spencer all watch me stalk off.
Despite Milo’s shirt coming down to my knees, walking through the school to get to Dean Simmons’ office is still humiliating. Knowing that beneath this shirt is nothing but a towel and my nakedness is very off-putting. I’d do anything to be happily dressed in my usual school uniform with a bra and panties keeping all my bits warm.
I follow Dean Simmons right up to his office door where he stands and waves me through with a heavy scowl. “Take a seat.”
I swallow back my fear. Why do I feel like I’m about to get in a ton of shit for doing absolutely nothing? Hell, I’m the freaking victim in this situation. I do as I’m told and drop down into the seat opposite his mahogany desk. “Is there something I can help you with?” I question, watching him stride through his ostentatious office toward his desk chair.
He doesn’t respond for a while just stares with his brow cocked. “You’ve caused quite the drama in my school over the past two days.”
My brows fly up and I struggle to keep the disdain off my face. “Umm … excuse me?” I say, unable to keep the incredulous laugh from bubbling up my throat. “You’re going to have to explain that one to me because I’ve not done a damn thing wrong. I’ve been a perfect student.”
Dean Simmons scoffs and it’s a sound that grates on every single one of my nerves. “You have distracted my students. Since you started yesterday, there have been fights in the parking lot, one of my star students has a fractured arm and two black eyes, my coach is going to have x-rays done on his chest, and now I find you strutting around my quad in nothing but a towel. These boys are here to learn, not to be distracted by your sexuality.”
I throw myself out of my chair and stand before him. “What a load of shit. First off, your star student is rocking two black eyes because he tried to attack me in my bedroom last night, and for the record, you’d be a fool to assume I could inflict that sort of damage. He came to me in the parking lot while also sending me death threats but I’m guessing that’s just going to be looked over because I’m a female and around here that counts for nothing. Your coach is a fucking pervert along with the rest of your students and if I had the cash behind me, your coach would be held up in a sexual harassment case for so long he’d never see a field again in his life. Not to mention I’m still a minor so that’s only looking worse for him. Besides, it’s not my fault the dickhead can’t catch a soccer ball.”
“Watch your tone, young lady,” he snaps, clearly not taking kindly to threats. “You’re making a mockery of my school.”
“You’re doing that all on your own if you can’t already see the issues lying within your school. It’s you that chooses to do nothing. I wonder what Charles Carrington would think of that?”
Dean Simmons’ eyes widen a fraction before the anger takes over. I smile to myself. That was a long shot, but it paid off. Charles Carrington is an important man around here, and judging by Dean Simmons’ reaction, he either owns the place or is on the board. “Don’t push me, Oceania. You’re already walking a thin line. I have a ‘three warnings and you’re out’ rule and today, you’ve pushed through two.”
“That’s bullshit. I haven’t done anything.”
“I’ve just sent my coach to the hospital for x-rays,” he reminds me. “Did you or did you not kick a ball into his chest.”
“I did.”
“And are you not strutting around my school in nothing but a towel when I have over five hundred young men trying to concentrate on their studies?”
I see red. “My clothes and belongings were stolen from the bathroom while I was showering after PE. I can hardly be blamed for that. In fact, I want to report a theft. I still haven’t received my belongings back.”
“That’s a tall story, Oceania,” he growls, “and I will not put up with it. My students are outstanding young men of this community and do not take part in these ridiculous little stunts.”
This is just getting absurd. No matter what I say, I’m always going to be the one in the wrong. Hell, I’m sure had Jude actually gotten his hands on me, that would have been my fault too.
I shake my head in astonishment and scoff at how pathetic this little meeting has been. “I’m out,” I say, making sure Milo’s shirt is pulled all the way down before abandoning the used towel on Dean Simmons’ office floor.
I head for the door. “I am not finished with you, Oceania Munroe.”
“Well, I’m more than finished here.”
“I only accepted your admission because of your connection to Carrington. If you walk out that door I will not hesitate to terminate your enrollment.”
Fuck that. I don’t care if this embarrasses Charles, or if Mom has an issue with it, I’m not sticking around a second longer. I’m sure once Mom calms down and lets me explain, she’ll be more than on my side. Most of the time, she’s all about shutting up and doing what you have to do to get by, but sometimes the line of what’s acceptable gets crossed and she’ll never expect me to just take it like that. No doubt this means she’s going to hear all about what happened with Jude yesterday and that’s only going to worry her. She already has too much on her plate to worry about bullshit like that.
I can only imagine how Nic is going to handle this. Maybe it’s best to keep this one quiet, after all, I said something yesterday and look how that escalated.
I hold my head high and walk out the door of Dean Simmons’ office, making sure to slam it behind me as the anger pulses through my veins. How dare he blame all this bullshit on me. Okay, so yes, I kicked the ball at the coach, but he had it coming. Apart from that, I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. This is complete bullshit.
I storm down to the student parking lot and don’t miss the way the students stare as I go. It only manages to fuel my anger more. It’s their lunch break and I’
m distantly aware that I teased Charlie about some ridiculous lunch date that I had absolutely no intention of seeing through. It served its purpose of getting under Jude’s skin and that’s all I needed.
I drop down into Milo’s Aston Martin and my emotions are too wild to even realize what I’m doing. This is one of those cars on my list and I’m about to drive it, yet right now, I couldn’t care less.
I hit the gas and the Aston Martin peels out of the parking lot.
Within minutes, I'm shooting down the drive to the Carrington mansion and bringing the car to a screeching stop on the expensive drive, most likely leaving two thick rubber lines behind.
I fly up the stairs and push through the door into the huge foyer. I can’t really remember all the ins and outs of this place just yet, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to do something about this. It’s not right. I get that it’s a boy’s school but that doesn’t mean the way I’ve been treated today is acceptable.
I find Charles’ office and storm through the door. His head instantly whips up and at that moment, the similarities between him and his son are almost uncanny. There’s a phone glued to his ear and upon taking in the look on my face, he lets out a frustrated huff. “I’m going to have to call you back.”
Damn straight, he will.
Charles finishes up his call, not once taking his eyes off me as he hangs up and raises from his office chair. “Ocean, what is the meaning of this? That was a very important business call you just interrupted.”
“Couldn’t have been too important if you hung up to speak to me. You could have just told me to fuck off.”
“What has gotten into you?” he demands. “Where is this attitude coming from and why the hell are you not at school? Where is your uniform?”
“My uniform was stolen from me while I was showering after PE and I was forced to walk around the school in nothing but a towel until I was offered a shirt.”
“Excuse me?” he questions, looking shocked which I’m hoping is a good sign for me.
I continue, needing to get it all out before I go back and answer questions. I start pacing his office. “Yeah, this comes after that ridiculous coach demanded I strip down and change in the locker room with the eyes of thirty prying teenage boys watching me, and the kicker is if I refused he was going to fail me for Physical Education. I only got saved from that when Milo pointed out that it was a sexual harassment case waiting to happen. Can you fucking believe that? It was humiliating. Then he told me to sit out because I was only going to slow down the game. I mean, I might not be as fast as those boys, but I can still kick a fucking soccer ball up and down the field.”
“Just take a breath,” Charles says, walking around his desk and perching himself on the end. “Don’t you worry. He’ll be dealt with. Refusing to educate you is unacceptable behavior from a teacher.”
“You haven’t heard the worst of it,” I grumble, skipping over the whole kicking the ball into the coach’s chest thing. At least, for now.
“The worst?” he questions, raising off his desk as he begins getting agitated.
“Yeah, that stupid Dean Simmons has the balls to tell me that it was all my fault. That walking around the school in a fucking towel was some sort of stunt to distract the boys from their studies when in reality, it was nothing but complete humiliation. Do you know they don’t even have a place for me to go to the bathroom? Imagine if that was Cora or Casey having to steal the key for the staff bathroom and sneak in just to pee?” I take a shaky breath, balling my hands into fists. “Then that ridiculous excuse of a Dean said that I was making a mockery out of the school, and although I was the one who was nearly attacked by one of his students, it's somehow all my fault. I've received death threats from that student, I've been discriminated against because of my gender, and I was sexually harassed by some dimwit pervert coach. I've never been more humiliated in all my life. I think he might have even terminated my enrollment, but I was too angry to stick around to know for sure.”
Charles just stares, his mouth hanging open. “I, uhh … I don’t even know where to start with all of that. This has all happened in the last two days?”
I nod and his face begins turning red with anger. “Where the hell was Colton during all of this?”
I let out a sigh. “Look, don’t get me wrong, Colton is an A-class dickhead with a massive chip on his shoulder, but without him, I would have spent my night in the hospital doing a rape kit.”
Charles brows furrow. “Rape? You said you were nearly attacked?”
I glance away, not feeling comfortable talking about it to Charles. “Yeah, Jude welcomed himself into my bedroom yesterday afternoon and tried to force himself on me. If Colton didn’t walk by when he did … well, you know.”
“Shit, Ocean,” he says, his lips pressing into a hard line. “I’m sorry you had to go through that and under my roof none-the-less.”
“Thank you, that means a lot.”
“Now, about this coach and the Dean. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot I can do about the boys stealing your belongings while you were showering. That is unfortunate and I can only imagine how that would have felt being the victim of that, let alone being the only female among all those boys’ prying eyes. But you're tough, I see it in you. That’s why I had you enrolled there. It’s the best school with the best education and that’s what I expect out of the children living under my roof.”
I nod, wanting to agree but deep down, I’m not sure that I feel that tough.
“Was it Coach Sylvester?”
I nod again.
Charles groans. “I’ve had issues with that man for years. It’ll be good to finally get rid of him.”
“Get rid of him?”
“You don’t think I’m going to let him get away with this, do you? Expecting you to change in front of a room full of boys is unacceptable and disgusting behavior for an educator. I’ll be speaking with the other members of the board and I can assure you that he won’t be a problem any longer. Now, Dean Simmons,” Charles says with a grin slowly spreading across his face. “He’s been another issue I’ve been meaning to deal with. Leave it to me. I'll put in a call to my lawyers and see what we can do about this. Bellevue Springs Academy has always had a stellar reputation and I won’t stand for people like Simmons coming in and tearing it down. One school. United. Equal. That certainly doesn’t sound like he’s upholding our school code. I put him in that position and I can certainly take it away.”
I watch Charles for a silent moment, my eyes beginning to fill with tears. “Thank you,” I tell him, feeling the guilt start to creep up on me. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone be on my side like this before, but there is something you should know.”
“Go on,” he says, his voice low and his eyes narrow on me suspiciously.
“After I got dressed for PE, I sort of kicked a soccer ball into Coach Sylvester's chest. He was fine for the entirety of the lesson and even demonstrated things, but when I was with Dean Simmons, he said that it was violence against a faculty member and now Coach Sylvester has been sent for X-rays.”
Charles lets out a sigh. “That makes things a little more difficult but nothing I can’t handle.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“What did I tell you, Ocean? As long as you’re living under my roof, you’re considered family,” he tells me, digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone. “Now run along and get yourself cleaned up. Make sure you drop Colton’s shirt into the hamper to be cleaned and pressed so he’s not down a shirt.”
“Oh, um … this isn’t Colton’s shirt. It’s Milo’s.”
Charles’ eyes darken. “Colton didn’t offer you a shirt or something to cover up with?”
Whoops. Maybe I’ve said too much. “Nope.”
Charles presses a button on his phone and holds it to his ear, looking at me as he waits. “If that is all, you need to get a move on. It seems I have some things to discuss with my son.”
“Of course,�
�� I say. “Thank you.”
“It’ll be dealt with by morning,” he assures me before speaking into his phone. “Colton. My office. Ten minutes.” With that, he ends the call and I scurry away, feeling the weight of the world lifting off my shoulders. Not to mention, it sounds like Colton is about to get an ass-whooping from Daddy Warbucks and I don’t want to be here when that happens.
I hurry up to my room and instantly dive into the over-the-top walk-in closet. I peel Milo’s shirt over my head and grab a pair of sweatpants and a cotton crop. Being certain that Colton and his friends aren’t here, I stride out of my closet and get myself dressed.
After a day like this, it would have been nice to be able to call Nic or one of the boys but with my phone currently in the hands of my clothes thief, I go without. Instead, I curl up in bed and try to forget that today ever happened.
It’s only a few minutes later when I hear Charles' loud booming voice flowing from downstairs. There are too many walls between here and there, distorting his words beyond recognition, but from the sound of it, I'd say that Colton is here and getting the ass-whopping he so desperately needs.
The thought has a grin stretching across my face and with nothing left to do, I grab a textbook and try my best to catch up on my schoolwork.
By 3:30, Milo is standing in my bedroom doorway with an annoyed Harrison by his side. “Might I remind you about our guest list. It was put in place for a reason.” I just stare at him as Milo silently laughs behind him which only serves to piss him off more. Harrison lets out a loud groan. “You’ll do well to remember that I am not responsible for running around after you. If you are inviting friends over, you should answer the door yourself instead of wasting my time. I work solely for the Carrington’s, not disrespectful princesses like yourself.”
With that, Harrison zips his lips and walks out the door, leaving Milo to welcome himself into my room. “How are you feeling?” he questions, finding his discarded shirt on the end of my bed.
Tough Sh*t: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 1) Page 10