by R. S. Elliot
Whatever I have to do, be it a hospital ward for long-term recovery or hiring someone to come to the house on my days off, I will make it work.
Somehow.
It feels like forever since I’ve walked across this campus. Everything has changed so much in just a short period of time. With my mother, with Zach. Even now, the apprenticeship is all mine. There’s no question behind whether my proposal will take flight. I’ll have a secured wealth of resources to work with, someone to apprentice under and gain valuable experience to help me moving forward.
What’s even more exciting is I’ll be helping my community. I’ll be working toward something I love. And there is no greater feeling in the world than making that happen.
I walk into my first class of the day. The few students who are already in their seats turn to face me. Their eyes widen as they take in my appearance. I’m not dressed that much out of place, but then I’m not a fashion guru like Lyndsey. Either way, I didn’t think it elicited this kind of attention.
Someone snickers to the right of me. I take my seat and try to ignore the whispering. This is odd. I’m not late, entering a room full of college students while the professor is mid-lecture. That might garner some attention, but even this level of attention seems excessive. You’d think I was wearing a giant chicken mask for all the confused stares I’m getting.
I’m fully clothed, aren’t I?
I double-check, just to ensure this hasn’t slowly turned into that recurring nightmare that’s haunted my dreams since childhood.
So then what is it?
I text Lyndsey, just to take my mind off of the eyes directed toward me. I’m not even sure they’re looking at me. I could just be completely blowing everything out of proportion.
People are acting weird. I text Lyndsey.
Her response pops up on my screen almost instantly. How so?
I don’t know. They’re staring a lot. Did I miss something?
You’re not wearing that hideous velvet thing again are you? She writes. I told you to burn that thing! No one has worn velvet and pulled it off since 1998.
More students filter into the classroom. Some pause as they pass beside me. Others casually try to point me out to their friends without making it seem too obvious. It’s always obvious.
I feel like I’m back in high school, that first week I returned after my father died. Most were sympathetic. They just didn’t know how to act. They would whisper about how tragic it must be, they can’t imagine what I’m going through. All the while, I felt like a specimen at a zoo being examined before a live audience.
This is similar to that. Only this time, I have no clue why they are staring or what catalyst has propelled me out of the shadows and into the limelight of gossip.
I think Jackson said something. Maybe he’s bitter about the apprenticeship and spread around some rumor about me to ruin my life.
He threatened me before. He claimed to know about what was going on with Zach and me, but that was clearly all speculation. I hadn’t even slept with him at that point, so there really couldn’t have been any foundation for his threats.
Unless he did figure something out. Unless he found something that looked suspicious enough to verify his claims.
Flames scale up the back of my throat. Not to be outdone by the grip of panic taking hold, fear trickles through my veins in cold bursts of air. My body is so confused it doesn’t know whether to be hot or cold. I don’t know what to think. Should I be worried? It can’t all be in my head.
The professor makes his way into the classroom, and the murmurings subside into a dull hush. The class size is nowhere near as large as the one Zach teaches but large enough for me to feel like the eyes of the world are still on me.
Aly? Where are you? Lyndsey’s message pops up on my phone.
I’m in class.
Aly, just walk out of there. Okay? She writes. Come home. I’m leaving class right now, I’ll meet you there.
The urgency in her voice terrifies me. What could possibly be wrong now? Did something happen to my mother? Was the hospital unable to reach me?
Or did she figure something out about why everyone keeps watching me?
“Aly McKenzie?” The professor at the front of the classroom calls my name. Everyone in the room turns to face me. Apparently, the professor is the only one who doesn’t know who I am.
This can’t be good.
I raise my hand. “That’s me.”
What now?
“The Dean’s office,” he says.
“Go now.”
The receptionist outside Dean Dawson’s office doesn’t treat me any better than my peers.
Her knowing eyes shift from glowering to amusement depending on whatever thoughts are spiraling through her head. I sit there for about half an hour before the door to the dean’s office opens.
A tall man with wrinkled jowls that look like they should belong to a bulldog stands in the doorway. His piercing black eyes pin me with a glare. I resist the urge to sink down in my chair. There is no need for that anymore. If this is about what I think it is, I’m done being ashamed. A month ago, I might have shriveled up into a ball at the thought of any confrontation. Especially with a member of the university administration. But I’ve never felt so assured in my purpose as this.
Whatever happens, I’m ready.
“Come inside, Miss McKenzie,” he says and holds the door open for me.
I pass by him, immediately noticing Zach seated in one of the chairs across from the dean’s desk. So it is what I think. Do they suspect that he helped me unfairly earn the apprenticeship? They can’t have any actual proof of the affair itself. All they have is hearsay.
Dean Dawson motions for me to take a seat beside Zach, who doesn’t look as ruffled as a man about to lose his career should. He smiles as I take a seat beside him. Maybe he’s putting on a brave face for my benefit. But I’m not completely ignorant of what’s happening here. I know that everything from this moment on changes. Our relationship, my education, my goals. All of it. And I’ll have to be able to change along with it.
All the secrets are coming out. And I couldn’t be more relieved.
“Do you know why you’re both here?” Dean Dawson asks.
“Something about Miss McKenzie’s apprenticeship?” Zach shrugs, his manner aloof already.
I have no idea how much scolding he’s already been subjected to before I entered the office. He had to have been in here for a while.
“As a matter of fact, it does have a little something to do with the apprenticeship,” the dean says, his tone mimicking Zach’s perfectly.
He turns his focus on me. ‘Miss McKenzie, I’ll ask you the same thing I asked Professor Hawthorne: how long have you two been sleeping together?”
I’m shocked by the bluntness of his question. I stand there, mouth agape, wondering how he even expects me to answer something like that.
“Miss McKenzie doesn’t have to answer that question if she doesn’t want to,” Zach answers for me, my silence speaking volumes to the sucker-punch I’ve just been delivered. “Especially since neither of our lawyers is present.”
Dean Dawson leans across his desk. “What do you need lawyers for, Hawthorne? California is an at-will state. You don’t have tenure here. I can fire you for any reason I want.”
“Wow.” Zach chews his lips. All at once he jumps to his feet. “Good to know. I’ll go pack now. Are we free to leave?”
“We’re not finished yet.”
Dean Dawson motions for him to stay put, but Zach remains standing while the interrogation pivots back to me. “Of course, Miss McKenzie, you realize you are no longer eligible for the apprenticeship. In light of these recent allegations.”
What recent allegations?
All he’s asked is if I slept with Zach. There hasn’t been any proof presented. Can someone’s life really be destroyed that easily? Sure, there’s truth to these allegations, but what if there hadn’t been?
I’m done fighting t
his.
I won’t apologize for what I did. It led me to Zach, to pure happiness, and more than I could ever have imagined would be mine in a lifetime. So he can take the apprenticeship, he can do what he pleases. I’ll find another way to get what I want.
“That’s fine,” is the only answer I give. After all of that, it’s the only answer he really needs.
“That’s fine?”
“Yes. I already had a backup plan in place in case I didn’t receive the apprenticeship.” Dean Dawson’s brow furrows as I speak, the deep wrinkles folding over her eyes. “Turns out my backup plan should have been more of a plan A.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Aly already has contributors interested in funding her organization,” Zach explains. “She’ll also have at least one volunteer therapist willing to help her with conducting assessments.”
“Well, with so much faith in Aly’s proposal,” Dean Dawson grinds out my name for emphasis. “I’m surprised you didn’t recommend her for the apprenticeship.”
He what?
After all his pep talks, all his propping up, he thought Jackson’s proposal was still better than mine? Did he actually believe any of those things he said about my paper? Or was it all just an act to boost my ego?
“Like I said.” Zach stares down the dean, unflinching. “She didn’t need it.”
Or had Jackson said something to him?
If Jackson threatened me, it only stood to reason that he would go after Zach, as well. Especially, if he figured out who Zach really was. Zach could pay a lot more to keep things quiet than I can. He also has the power to make decisions that move Jackson ahead of me in the academic sphere.
Yet, if he had submitted his recommendation for Jackson, his opinion must not have mattered as much as they thought. Or maybe the board simply loved my idea so much, that it didn’t matter. Either way, the deal fell through. Which means whatever leverage Jackson had over Zach is now out in the open.
“Where is all this coming from?” I probe into the heart of the issue. We can’t all be sitting here having our futures determined off the word of a sore loser.
Dean Dawson shuffles the mouse on his desk, landing on the intended target and opening whatever file he has as proof. He twists the computer around for both of us to see.
Playboy Billionaire Caught on a Wild Night Out with Student, the headline reads. There are clearly three of us in the photo, but Lyndsey is not mentioned anywhere in the article. Her face is turned in the opposite direction, and I cling to the hope that this spares her some humiliation of suffering as a result of my mistakes.
Zach grumbles beside me.
I don’t want to read any more of this article. The one that paints me as some loose-moral woman who gets sloppy drunk every weekend and seduces my professor to get ahead in my career. Who would write something like this without having all the facts? I don’t even remember this night. I don’t remember the moment this photo might have been taken. Everything about that was a blur, all because some jackass wanted to get into my pants on his terms alone.
Now, we’re all suffering the consequences.
“This is insane,” Zach says. “Miss McKenzie was drugged. I went there to help her and her friend. These papers will print anything they think sells a story.”
“It’s enough, Hawthorne. The article wasn’t as important as getting you two here.” Dean Dawson’s gaze shifts from Zach to me, then back again. “I’m not an idiot. I was young and in love once, too. I can tell there’s something going on between the two of you. What I can’t tell is how far out of hand this has gone.”
A low growl struggles through Zach’s clenched teeth. He presses his fingertips into his forehead, massaging the wrinkles growing there and the scar at his temple.
“Either way, you know the rules,” Dean Dawson continues. “And you’ve stepped way out of bounds on this one. You’re done, Hawthorne. As for you, Miss McKenzie, you’ll be placed on academic suspension until a proper ruling can be considered for you.”
“Wait.” Zach perks up, his back suddenly rigid as a stake. “You already took the apprenticeship from her. You can’t end her studies, as well. She’s not even two months away from graduating.”
I stand frozen, watching the two of them arguing like a pair of male lions over territory.
“I’m placing her on suspension.”
Dean Dawson’s gaze shifts nervously to me. “It’s likely you will be allowed to complete your final semester, Miss McKenzie, but we will withhold any honors. For now, it’s best that you continue your studies at home, instead of at school. You’ll be allowed back at the end of the semester to take any finals.”
I’m somewhat relieved by this turn of events. I didn’t want to endure the stares from my classmates for the next few weeks of school. All the things they must be saying about me now. All the assumptions they must be making based on that article alone. I can’t handle it. Something prickles at the edge of my eyelids.
Ugh. I’m not going to cry here in this office. That will only incite more rumors about how I cracked under the pressure. Poor little tramp, too weak to handle the consequences of her actions. But the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on for the last three days has done nothing to regulate my feelings.
“How am I supposed to turn in any work?” I bite down on my trembling lip.
Think of the practical things. Think about what comes next.
I’ll be able to stay with my mom for a while. I’ll be able to pick up more shifts at Home Depot to pay for these new bills, and whatever’s coming next.
“You’ll be given the assignments, the reading materials and the rubrics. That’s about all we can offer to keep you on track.” Dean Dawson leans across the table, his stare softening into something genuine and warm for the first time since I’ve been in the office. “I am sorry to hear about your mother. Maybe this is all for the best, then.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat. I am so close to tears it hurts. He means well. There wasn’t any malice in his words or ill will. Yet, I’m so overwhelmed with everything that’s happened. I can’t contain it any longer.
I stand, the chair sliding out from behind me with a long squeak.
“Aly…” Zach’s voice sounds beside me, cautious as if he expects me to suddenly bolt down the hallway.
He isn’t wrong.
All I can think about doing right now is running. Running and eating a whole carton of rocky road ice cream.
“Thank you, Dean Dawson.” My words shake. My whole body is trembling by the time I exit the office. Zach walks along beside me.
Part of me wants to reach out to him for comfort. Who cares what anyone thinks anymore? The secret is out, isn’t it? I should be able to hold his hand without fear. To kiss him and silence this aching inside me. Yet I know it would only add fuel to the fire, give the gossips one more thing to talk about.
I feel so exposed. All these people who have been wasted at one party or another, who’ve made mistakes in their lives, and slept with people they’d rather forget, are judging me as if they’ve never done anything wrong in their lives.
I was drugged. I slept with the man I love. And yet I am villainized to sell more papers.
And maybe this shock wouldn’t have hit me so hard if I had only known the truth all along. If I had known what Jackson held over me, what he planned on doing.
“What was the deal?” I spin around.
Zach who nearly collides into me trying to keep up. “What do you mean?”
“With Jackson. He was blackmailing you, wasn’t he?”
The lump in Zach’s throat bobs up and down on a hard swallow. His cool eyes study me, trying to determine the best method of delivery for news I don’t really want to hear.
“Yes.”
“So what was the deal?” I ask again. “He gets the apprenticeship, and your name gets kept out of the papers?”
“Not my name, Aly.” Zach shakes his head. “Yours.”
Right
.
A lot of good that did either of us. Though it does make one thing perfectly clear. “So you admit this involved me somehow? But you didn’t think it necessary to include me in the decision?”
“I didn’t want to worry you. I figured I could handle it on my own.”
“Yes, well, we see how well that worked out.” He had plenty of opportunities to prepare me for this. What other secrets would he keep from me in the future, all for the sake of sparing me my feelings? “Why didn’t you tell me? Even afterward. Don’t you think this is something I deserve to know? To be prepared for in case something like this happens?”
Those horrible things. The awful ways they chose to describe me. I’ll never be able to get them out of my mind.
“Aly, I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”
“No. I don’t think you did.” My legs weaken as I stand here. I won’t be able to keep myself from collapsing for much longer. “You’re still trying to fix everything on your own when we’re supposed to be doing this as a team.”
He stays silent.
I’m getting nowhere arguing like this in the hallways of the administrative buildings. At least we’re in a wing of the building that is significantly less populated than others. Though I’m certain there are people who have crept closer to hear our conversation and add it to some hot gossip chain.
“I just need to be left alone for a while,” I hear myself say.
I need time away from him, time to sort out my life and what I want without all the distractions he brings.
It’s time to start over.
Even if that means leaving Zach behind.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zach
“So that Jackson kid got pulled out of my class today on stalking and blackmailing charges,” Derek says, without lifting his eyes from the blueprints in front of him. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”
“I think it’s technically extortion. Blackmailing has to be in writing.”
At that, he faces me, concern seeping out of every corner of his face. “Zach. Please, tell me you didn’t.”