Chapter Fifty

Excuses and justifications gather on my tongue, but I swallow them back and sit straight in my chair. It’s past time to fess up and take whatever discipline is involved.

Director Williams stares at me across his desk. “Miss Burnett, I don’t think I need to tell you what I’ve heard today.”

“No, sir.”

“But I would like for you to tell me your side of things.”

“The meeting I scheduled with you tomorrow was to discuss this exact thing.” I look down to my hands folded in my lap. “Too little, too late I guess.”

“You outright lied on your scholarship essay. Are you the first student around here to lie? Of course not, but that scholarship is worth a lot of money. It is the only scholarship we offer each year. It is a prestigious scholarship. One that only the best of the best receives.”

I lift my eyes to his. “I know.”

He levels me with a disciplinary look. “What’s your side of this?”

I think about all the students around here. Their easy, full-ride lives. None of them have had to work for anything. They take it all for granted. Leaving people like me and Riel constantly proving ourselves. It’s not fair. None of it is.

“Miss Burnett?”

“Dr. Williams, I will be the first person in my family to graduate high school, and I’m darn well going to be the first to graduate college. Whether that be from MIT or another one, I’ll do it. Since I was twelve, I’ve wanted to go here and I’ve wanted to go to MIT. My momma used to save her tips, and for my birthday or Christmas she’d buy me stuff from your student center. A T-shirt. A pendant. Even one of those water tumblers.

“Everything I’ve academically done was with the single goal to get into this place, and then of course to move on to MIT. It was only this year your board added the citizenship and family value component to the scholarship. But it’s not until right now, sitting here, talking to you, that I realize my family does have those qualities. Though I didn’t think they did. My momma taught me to be hard-working, honest, and kind. No matter how hard things got, she always had food in the house. She always baked cookies over the holidays and walked around the projects and handed them out. Did she have us in church every Sunday? No, I’ve never been to church in my life.

“But I’m proud to say she’s my mother. I’m proud that I worked hard, and I was also top in my class. I’m proud I maintained a full-time job through high school. I’m not proud about my sister and my father. I’m not proud I was with my ex-boyfriend when he stole a car. And I’m not going to go through all the gossip you’ve heard. Just know there is a truth in all of it. I did lie and I’m ashamed of that. This has been my dream, and I was willing to do anything to make it happen. Have I made bad choices along the way? Yes.”

I stop talking and look across the desk at him. “I was going to say this tomorrow, but here I am, and in light of all of this, I would like to request that you give Riel my scholarship.”

Director Williams doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he sighs as he reaches up and rubs the bridge of his nose. “This will need to go in front of Mr. Farmer as your financial backer and also the board.”

Mr. Farmer. Abbie and Peter’s father.

The director links his fingers and gives me a long study. “For now go to class, study, go to sleep, and get up and do it again. As soon as I talk to Mr. Farmer and the board, I’ll let you know what decisions have been made.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, switching topics. The cops were here earlier. I understand this ex-boyfriend of yours is the prime suspect in your attack?”

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Then you need to stay on campus at all times. Do not go anywhere alone. Do you understand me?”

“I do.”

“Okay, that’ll be all.” The director nods to the door. “You can leave my door open on your way out.”

With shallow breaths, I stride across his office and let myself out of his already cracked door. I turn the corner and there—standing against the wall—is Riel. He heard everything. There’s no way he couldn’t have.

He doesn’t say a word to me. I try to read his expression, but it’s empty. Completely empty. Shame cramps through my chest, and I turn away. I can’t take his disappointment.

I don’t want to go back to the dorm and the girls there. I don’t want to face any of them right now. Instead, I go straight to the academy’s fitness center and into the locker room. As I change clothes, my emotions whirl, slowly building from the shame to full-on anger and disgust at myself.

Five minutes later, I charge into the MMA room. I snatch a pair of gloves off the wall, yank them on, and go straight for the punching bag. With a scream that ricochets through my body I attack the bag, punching, kicking, kneeing, and elbowing it. Minutes tick by and sweat flings through the air. The sight of it fuels my adrenaline and makes me jab harder. My deep breaths echo through the empty room as my feet skirt around the bag, and I become inordinately aware of my grunts. The animalistic sound of them feeds my soul.

Letting out a guttural cry, I zero in on the hanging bag, pummeling it with every ounce of fury, frustration, humiliation, and defiance I carry in my soul. I tear my gloves off and run at the bag, screaming and kicking it over and over again.

Blood slowly stains the bag, and I fall to my knees, gulping for breath. Time passes, but I have no clue how long. All I know is my shoulder’s killing me, and it feels like I rebruised my rib.

When I finally lift my head, I see Riel staring at me from the other side of the glass door. He opens it and steps inside the shadowed room, and I stop breathing. What is he going to say?

Silently, he crosses the room to where I sit and hands me a towel. I wipe the sweat from my face first, then dab at my busted knuckles.

He remains standing, looking down at me. I don’t know if he’s waiting for me to speak first, but I don’t. Does he hate me as much as I hate myself right now?

“I’m”—he takes a breath—“upset.”

I lift my eyes and gaze up at him, and my heart cracks when I see the regret and betrayal in his face. I put it there. Me.

“I’m going to need time to think about everything,” he quietly tells me.

I nod.

“You were supposed to watch Mar tonight?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Tears burn a hot path straight up my throat right to my eyes, and I can’t stop them from filling up. “Okay.”

“Viola?”

I look down at the towel in my hands and sniff. “Yes?”

“Please don’t go anywhere,” he says. “Please stay on campus. Stay safe.”

More tears well and fall, and I simply nod. He’s upset with me and yet he still reminds me to stay safe.

He crosses the room and quietly lets himself out, and I stay right here on the floor and cry.