“I'm sorry, Charlotte.” Dad looks at me for a moment with this flicker of regret in his eyes. “I've alerted your parents,” he nods in the direction of the boys, “and you all have cars coming to pick you up. Please stay here until they arrive.”
“I'm not leaving Charlotte,” Tobias declares, crossing his strong, muscular arms over his chest. He's changed from his soggy, wet uniform into an Adamson Academy zip-up sweater and matching sweatpants, and holy crap, with the sweater partially unzipped, and the pants hanging low, the outfit shows off the muscles in his chest and lower belly in a way that's criminal. Too bad I'm too worried about Spencer to enjoy it.
Worried.
Right.
Like worried he might be fucking dead.
I close my eyes tight.
“That's not your choice to make, Mr. McCarthy. I'm sorry. Your mother's already sent a car.”
“Then send Charlotte with us for break,” Church inserts, and I open my eyes to see him stepping forward. His face is all business, closed-off and unreadable. He's like some sort of marble statue, carved by the deftest and most skilled of hands, but missing the gentle vulnerability that comes with being human.
Poor Church.
His heartbreak is hidden under a layer of stone.
“We can spend the next week in California,” Micah adds, and I hear the stairs creak as he comes down to stand on the landing. “It's gotta be safer there than here.”
“There’s nothing unsafe about this campus,” Archie begins, and my jaw drops open.
“Nothing unsafe?!” I choke out, trying to keep my voice low. Screaming hurts too much right now. Hypothermia is no joke. “Nothing at all? You mean, you didn’t call 911 when you found that bloody handprint on the dorm wall?”
“Charlotte.” There’s most definitely a period at the end of my name, a definitive punctuation mark in the conversation that eloquently says all the words my father isn’t capable of uttering: shut the fuck up, Chuck, we don’t argue in front of company.
But my emotions are riding high on a wave of fear and melancholy, and all I can think about are Spencer’s last words to me. “We could've been something, Charlotte, but I hate being lied to. I hate it.”
“How about the secret, flooded underground tunnels beneath the school?!” Church squeezes my shoulder, but I ignore him. I’m too fired up right now. “Or the dead guy hanging from a noose? What about a bunch of hypothermic students, and someone who almost drowned?” I swing my arm over to point at Ranger. “So, the campus isn’t unsafe? You’re full of shit.”
“I think it’d be better if Charlotte left with one of us,” Church begins again, but Archie is having none of it. His nostrils are flared, and his face is turning a purple/red color that I hope means he’s close to breaking. I’ve been waiting years for this.
“Sometimes inappropriate actions lead to poor consequences. Although I’m sorry for what you all are going through, you should never have been in those tunnels.” Archie pauses for dramatic effect, and I feel myself start to shake with barely repressed emotion. “My daughter will be staying with me, and that's final.” Archie stares me down, a battle of wills that I refuse to lose.
“It’d be no problem to put her up in a hotel near my mom’s place,” Ranger says, his voice rough and ragged from the near-drowning.
“Your rides should be here soon. Until then, I’ll be in my office. Regardless of your friendship with my daughter, I’m still her father, and I’m still the headmaster of this school. There will be no more arguments about this.” Archie exhales, and all the color drains from his face, leaving a steely calm that infuriates me to no end. He turns and heads into his office, pulling the door closed so there's only a small crack. Jazz music filters out the opening as I frown. Hard. Hard enough that my mouth hurts. Hard enough that I feel the tears start to sting my eyes again.
Archie wants me here, on this campus of death. Of course he does. He's too selfish to admit that something’s wrong here. Why should he? That would tarnish his perfect work record. God forbid he admit that things are out of his control.
“I'm not leaving if you're not,” Tobias repeats, and his brother grunts from his position on the landing.
“Neither am I,” Ranger declares, but Church just crosses his arms over his chest, a slight frown on his face. I wonder what his parents are like, or if arguing with them is even an option.
Arguing with mine isn't, that's for damn sure.Surprisingly, the boys end up getting their way, and the cars that came for them go right back the way they came.
Fucking spoiled brats.
I'm jealous as hell. I wish my dad cared enough to let me go. I just want to get away from this stupid school and all of its bullshit.
