“Someone gave me an anonymous report that you guys have been copying each other during the whole semester. Cheating is frowned upon by Moss University. You should know that by now.” She smiles when my face goes pale. “I’ve discussed the options with the dean and the president. They’re evaluating your case. This institution doesn’t have a place for incompetent people who take the easy way out.”
“An anonymous report?” Bree inquires, keeping her posture. “Sounds like a grave accusation without fundaments.”
“Funny that you mention it. I have a whole archive of evidence: all of your assignments, and the midterm.”
I feel sick. Nausea rolls through my stomach, and I start sweating under the fabric of my hoodie. The temperature stays the same, but it’s like it has gotten twenty degrees hotter.
“Coincidences happen, professor. I think there has been a misunderstanding. I’d even dare to say that you’re judging us without having substantial proof,” Bree defends us, stepping up when I’ve lost my voice.
I’m grateful that she’s here because I don’t have the guts to confront this situation with ease. I’m close to having a mental breakdown.
“You can take it however you want, Miss Pierce. The dean is handling the situation and will let us know his decision before the finals begin,” she expresses coldly as if she didn’t care that she’s threatening our futures. We’re walking on a tightrope because she chose to be incompetent. “I’m sure that they’ll be communicating with you, but I’m letting you know beforehand. During the process of evaluation, you’re both suspended from any extracurricular activities, associations, and sports.”
My heart falls to my feet with her words.
During a full minute, I forget how to breathe as I see my future shattering in front of me with a simple sentence. It took less than twenty words to destroy me. I’m not even capable of processing whatever she says next. I see her lips moving, but no sound enters my ears. Everything is spinning, and my brain drowns out every sound surrounding me.
There’s only one thought in my mind.
Without the team, they pause my scholarship. With that accusation, every financial aid that I have is gone. It invalids my eligibility for the scholarships, for everything that I’ve worked so hard to keep.
It’s over.
Today it’s the only moment where I regret accepting Bree’s proposal, and I don’t care if it brought us together. Deep down, I know that I can’t treasure the breaking point of my future. I can’t appreciate what’s ripping me in half.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Stanley avoids me the rest of the day in which I feel like a ghost mourning for everything that won’t be part of my life anymore. He spiraled and fled after the Harpy stopped talking to us. Without looking at me. Without even hearing what I have to say. Stanley only walked away from me.
In a way, I can’t blame him for his behavior. He’s not like me. My parents have a fund for my degree, and with my choice of major, I can make a name for myself without going through the protocol of graduating. There are a lot of options that I can have. Stanley needs his diploma to achieve his goals. Without the team and with an accusation like that on his file, there’s no chance that he can keep living here. He’s not going to be able to apply to any college.
His future is shattering into a thousand pieces, and there’s nothing that he can do about it. Somehow, it’s my fault that this happened. I’m sure that Stanley would’ve found a way to pass the class without cheating. I gave him the key to the easy path. I offered him to use it.
Guilt settles in my stomach, and it doesn’t allow me to eat the whole day. I won’t be able to forgive myself if this turns out to be worse than we thought. If Stanley loses everything because of me—
I don’t even want to think about it because the single thought makes me sick. I’ve been repressing nausea and the need to cry my fear away for hours. When I spot Ryder on campus, I do everything in my power to resist the urge to burst out in tears as I jump over him, hugging him so hard that my arms become numb.
“Bree, what happened?”
“There’s something that you need to know,” I tell him, my voice squeaking as the lump in my throat grows stronger, suffocating me.
I fill him in with the information that the Harpy told us, and he takes me to his apartment, hoping that Stanley is there.
I’m terrified, almost wheezing as the air refuses to fill my lungs. I’m not sure what kind of crisis I’m going to be witnessing when I finally find him. If he’s not here, I can’t think of a better place. The apartment is the only place that I can think of, or maybe Mantra. But it’s too early to visit the rooftop, and he hadn’t borrowed Ry’s car to get there either.
I’m scared that the consequences of this are going to be the end of us. I’m afraid that Stanley and I are a match that burned too fast, that we don’t stand a chance of staying alive when the fire goes out.
Pushing the ajar door with my hand, I peek at the mess. Most of his books cover the floor, spread in different positions, showing they were thrown with anger and frustration. The shut curtains leave the room in dim darkness. I repress my tears when I find Stanley sitting on the floor in the middle of his disaster, with his knees pushed to his chest, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Stan,” I call him with a weak voice, slowly entering his bubble.
I approach him carefully, kneeling in front of him. I sit on my heels as my eyes roam his face. His eyes are swollen, red, and puffy. The spark that was always present in them has disappeared, leaving nothing but void. His sight is lost somewhere in the books surrounding us; his broken expression is enough to break my heart.
“I talked to Coach,” he mentions in a hoarse tone. “He confirmed that everything is true. I—I have nothing in here.”
I’m here, Stanley.
I stay quiet because I can’t say that. I can’t pretend to become his future when he has nothing holding him here. I’m just a girl that he met in a class; I’m his downfall and destruction. Stanley’s right. He has nothing in this place. His future is in a well without ending, forever falling and never landing. All of his hopes and dreams have escaped from his hands.
I broke him.
I wrecked his future.
He got close to my chaos, and I used it to destroy him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, incapable of thinking something else to say.
His feelings are valid. He has every right to be angry, to suffer and grieve for what he has lost. Stanley has every right to feel like he’s on the edge of breaking down. He’s in the eye of a hurricane, and I can’t get him out of there even if I tried because I was the one that caused it.
I can’t compare my situation to his. I have options and the money to stay here; this is my home. Stanley’s heart belongs thousands of miles away, while mine belongs to him.
“I know that I made my own choices. I’m responsible for what I chose, but at the same time—” Stan trails off.
“You blame me,” I complete when he stops talking.
Stanley closes his eyes, inhaling deeply as if he was trying to pull himself together.
“I don’t want to do it, Bree,” he assures me without meeting my gaze. There’s a frown on his face. “I swear that I don’t want to because I know that it’s not your fault.”
I want to scream, beg him to push that absurd thought out of his mind, plead him to remember that it was that choice that brought us together. He knows my soul because of that decision. My own mistake is shadowing me. I’m responsible for ruining his life because I wanted to get out of something that ended up going out anyway.
Maybe he was always better off without me.
Is this the way of the world telling me that you can’t change destiny? Because I don’t want to think that Stanley was meant to lose his scholarship since the beginning. It would be so unfair. Many don’t work for what they want and take for granted what they have. Some don’t even value the tools and offers that they have. I’ve witn
essed Stanley’s dedication to his career, the way that he has worked hard to get here, only to lose it all a year before graduating.
One year.
Twelve months, and he lost it all.
My chest feels heavy, I’m not getting enough oxygen, and a pressure crushes my torso. Physically, I can feel my heart breaking to pieces with every second that passes in which Stanley doesn’t look at me.
Look at me, please. Tell me that you didn’t mean it.
Please, please, please.
But he never does.
“It’s okay,” I choke out. “I blame me too.” My voice breaks, and all of my control goes to hell when I see a couple of tears roll down his cheeks. He wipes them away angrily.
That was the last nail in the casket for me to feel like the worst person in the world. I want to cry and beg for his forgiveness, but it’s not what Stanley needs. He has always made me a priority. Now it’s my turn to return the favor, even when we’re breaking apart.
I’m going to make him my priority.
I don’t have the right words. I doubt that they exist in a situation like this, but my brain is incapable of giving him advice. How to make him feel better when it was my acts that brought him to this position? Instead of talking, knowing that’s useless, I hug him tightly.
“How am I going to tell my parents?” Stanley asks, and it’s when he shatters completely, drowning his sobs in my chest.
My lungs contract, pain spreading in my chest. How is it possible that we’re able to experiment this emotional pain? It feels like the whole world fell on me, crushing me, leaving me motionless. I let silent tears stream down my face, even when I don’t think that I’m entitled to do it. I don’t have the right to cry.
I caress his hair, looking to soothe his pain as he lets out everything that’s asphyxiating him. Stanley is crying, sobbing, suffering, and I’m helpless.
“I’m going to fix this, Stan,” I promise in a barely audible tone.
Even if I don’t know how... I’m going to try.
I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t do it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I sit in one of the booths of the diner where Stanley and I connected for the first time. The memory of our first civilized conversation is bittersweet. I feel the determination roaming my body. I haven’t slept at all, and my nerves are brushing my skin, threatening to come out. I don’t know if this will work out, or if he’s going to show up. I need to try. The last thing that I can do is sit around weeping when I still have the final piece in this game.
Letting out the air that fills my lungs, my eyes travel the place. I don’t order anything; I just sit down and wait impatiently. I’m too anxious to eat, even when my stomach is empty, and I haven’t consumed anything since yesterday.
The bell of the door chirps when someone enters the shop. I bite my inner cheek, gathering the courage to do this without screwing it up or punching him. Fury blooms under my skin. It’s a burning sensation, flames covering my body as my blood boils in my veins.
John Carter spots me in the booth and walks in my direction with a disgusted frown. His lips are pressed together, showing that he’s not happy to do this. His dark eyes don’t allow me to see what’s going through his mind, and honestly, I don’t care about that. He could go to hell for all I care, but I need him.
I have no doubts that he was the one who told the professor.
“What do you want?” he asks as he sits down in front of me, going straight to the point.
Good.
We’re on the same page.
“You did a fucked up thing, and now you’re going to help me fix it.”
He snorts.
“That’s not going to happen.”
I lean my elbows on the table, looking him straight in the eyes.
“I think it will,” I say, and I take out a black USB from the pocket of my jacket, putting it on the table.
“What’s that?” he inquires, arching a brow.
“Ryder told me your little secret. Somehow, he plans to keep his promise of not posting the information he gathered from your phone. But I don’t owe you a piece of loyalty. I won’t hesitate to post it. It would be so, so sweet for me.”
“You’re a little bitch,” Carter observes with an amused face.
I tilt my head.
“Maybe, but you don’t want to try me. I bet it’s anguishing for you, knowing that more people have your secret in their power,” I dare him.
John clenches his jaw.
“If I listen, you have to give me the USB and any other copies that you have,” he proposes.
“Deal.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
I can’t believe that I’m making a deal with the devil after what he did to me. Even when we agree that he went too far by snitching about what Stanley and I were doing, there’s still a bitter taste in my mouth. I feel like I’m betraying myself by teaming up with Carter. He’s the person I despise the most after my uncle, but I have to choke it back until I make sure to get Stan off the hook.
Pushing the door open, I enter the office of the Harpy, having a mix of strange emotions. I’m scared, determined, nervous and sure at the same time. They contradict each other, and I don’t understand how I’m capable of having them filling my chest, taking control of my body, but it’s happening. From the corner of my eye, I make sure that Carter is still with me wearing a smug expression. Taking a deep breath, I try to ease the tensions.
The professor barely looks at me. She arches a brow, intrigued to know the reason why I just burst into her private sanctuary.
“You know that I only attend students by previous appointment, right?” She speaks coldly in a monotonous tone that never seems to abandon her.
“No, you don’t,” I retort without wanting to lose time on this. I don’t owe her respect that she doesn’t deserve. I’m going to be blunt about what I have to say. “I’m here to clear something up. Something that dragged the wrong person.”
Her expression remains the same.
“Enlighten me then.”
I lick my lips.
“Stanley wasn’t the one cheating in the class,” I start to say, and it catches me by surprise that my voice isn’t trembling. “It was me. It’s always been me. I copied from him to get a better grade because I’m terrible at the subject, and you were never an excellent professor. I got desperate, and I started dating him to get advantage of that. It’s fucked up, I know, but it’s what happened.”
She squints, and her eyes trail off to Carter.
“What are you here for? Moral support?”
“I was the person that left you the anonymous report,” he states in a simple but firm tone.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I prepare to keep up with this lie.
“I used to date him until I decided to change him for his roommate—Stanley. When he found out, he decided to punish the wrong person.”
The professor frowns and leans in, her elbows on the wooden surface.
“Why are you saying it now?” she questions, analyzing me.
“Because I feel guilty that someone innocent has to pay for my mistakes. I’m past that,” I respond, and I’m sincere.
She stays quiet for a full minute. Time has slowed down, and the wait is mortifying. I can barely breathe as she makes a decision. My heart hammers against my thoracic cage, numbing everything else around me.
“Do you understand what will happen if you admit that you did it?”
I nod.
“In the worst-case scenario? You guys kick me out of this college,” I guess because you don’t need a detective for that.
She moves her head in an affirmative mode.
“You could be expelled,” she agrees. “Do you want that? Another college won’t accept you with a complaint like this in your file.”
I gulp, hesitating for a second, but I’ve made up my mind.
“I can handle it, but I could never live with the fact that I screwed someone else’
s life,” I reply in a lower tone because I can sense the relief coursing through me as she feeds from my lies.
This is happening.
I’m actually taking the fall for Stanley to prevent the collateral damages from my acts from hurting him.
“Okay,” she accepts with ease. She doesn’t even blink. “I’ll be meeting up with the dean to know how we’ll proceed with this. You can go now.”
Her dismissal is so abrupt that it makes me wonder if she has an ounce of empathy in her bones. A new wave of courage flows through me, and I can’t prevent the verbal vomit that climbs my throat.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you were a better professor,” I let out angrily. She lifts her eyebrows, startled by my brutally honest words. “Do you want a piece of advice? Not even the diplomas covering the walls of this office will save you from the fact that you’re an awful professor and a terrible human being. You lack empathy, accessibility, and the spirit to connect with your students. Not everyone can be a science genius, but you surely don’t make it any easier. Honestly? It’s worthless to be so smart if you’re dumb inside.”
I don’t want to see her reaction before I turn and abandon the office. The adrenaline is sending a rush of energy through my body. At a distance, I can hear John following me, but everything is drowned out by the pressure that rounds my ears. Stopping in the middle of the hall, I bow down, gasping for air.
“What you did was pretty brave,” Carter recognizes.
A skeptical laugh escapes from my lips.
“More like stupid,” I correct him, leaning my back against the wall, sliding down to the floor as I put myself together.
“They both go together,” he comments, shrugging.
I scoff.
“I’d say that I’m grateful, but that’s the minimum you could do after what you did to Stan,” I grit out, biting the inside of my cheek. He’s waiting for me to do my part of the deal and give him the USB. “I lied to you. The drive that you saw is empty, but Ryder has the one. So I’d stay in your lane from now on.”
Sweet Keeper (Sweet Talkers Book 1) Page 29