Page 13 of Dean's Delinquent

My breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh as I stand there staring at the screen. An odd sense of giddiness washes over me as I leave to get ready for the benefit tonight. Will I be able to sit so close to him knowing I blatantly disobeyed him?

Never before have I ever been so careless or rebellious. Unfortunately, I find that I like how it makes me feel. More than that, I can’t wait to see what new punishment Dean Anderson will concoct. If he tries to dismantle the paper, then I’ll just find another way to fight it.

There’s no way he’ll ever stop the press, and it’s high time he learns that. Just because he’s in a position of power doesn’t mean he can bully me or the news I report. Every time he moves, I’ll simply counter.

Checkmate.

ChapterFive

Ashleigh

Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I smooth down the front of my dress. Midnight blue fabric wraps my body to perfection and shows off my décolleté with an off-the-shoulder swath hugging my curves. Tossing my head a touch, I giggle as the few strands of hair not pulled up into a tight French twist brush my skin, setting off thousands of butterflies in my stomach.

I’m not exactly sure what has me so giddy. It’s not as if I’m new to these sorts of soirees. As a Hartwell, I was going to them as soon as I could properly hold a fork and eat like a lady. But it’s stupid that I’m even questioning this, seeing as I know why.

It’s becausehewill be there. So idiotic of me to have such a reaction to him. For some reason, I thought I’d be beyond such things as high school crushes when I started college, but I guess I’m wrong.

Leaning forward, I study my face in the mirror and touch up my makeup. No use dawdling much longer. If I’m late or miss the event, he’ll think he’s scared me off. I can’t let that happen. My hormones will just have to take a backseat.

You’re so emotional,my dad’s voice slithers through my brain, conjuring up a memory from when I was just a little girl.It’s just a flower. Flowers die. It’s a fact of life. Look at Augustus. He’s not crying. Go play in your room while we handle this.

Closing my eyes, my mind fast forwards several years.No need to cry, princess. Men come and go. He wasn’t a good financial match, anyway. Here, take my card and go buy yourself something pretty. That will make you happy. Right?

Loftry? Why do you need to go to college? A pretty girl like you can have any man she wants. In fact, I have it on good authority that the Cavanaugh boy has shown interest in you. Wouldn’t you rather just marry him and let him take care of you? You are a Hartwell, after all. Hartwell women don’t work. They spend their men’s money.

My cheeks burn as his laughter mingles with my brothers, flooding my head until that’s all that’s in there. Just a Hartwell. Good only to see and be seen. As I look at myself in the mirror, I glare at the reflection. I’m more than that. I’m far more than a pretty face.

Someday, he’ll see that. Everyone will see that. With a decisive nod, I head out to my car and glance over at the other dorms. Off in the distance, the twinkling lights of the Chi Sigma Delta sorority house catch my attention, glueing me to the spot for a moment.

It’s so odd that they didn’t hold a rush. All the other Greek houses held their rushes, but there was nothing from them. If I’d had the paper started by then, I would have done an article about all the options, but I guess there’s always next semester.

Still, it’s odd though. As interested as I am in covering this sham of a benefit dinner, there’s still something about that house that intrigues me. Glancing at my phone, I debate whether or not I should call Marnie and ask if she’s found out anything, but then I haven’t seen her all day.

Perhaps we can exchange notes while we’re in class tomorrow. A niggle of concern scratches at my brain as I slip into my car and drive over to the main atrium where the event is being held. It’s not like her to miss any classes, but I have no way of checking up on her.

She’s probably one of the most enigmatic people I’ve ever met. At first, I hoped she could be a friend, but as we got to know each other, she seemed like she’d be a strong ally. So far, she’s the only one at Loftry that actually seems interested in discussing conspiracy theories and talking about secret societies.

Everyone else just seems so bland in comparison. But like with most interesting people, the more fascinating they are, the odder they become. It’s as if each day was a new episode in paranoia. The way she kept glancing over her shoulder and refused to tell me anything about herself made me instantly suspicious.

But then, she seemed just as ravenous as me to figure out what those students did in the middle of the night. One of these days, we’ll go and stake them out, but first I’ll need to make sure I can fully trust her. Hell. I’ll need to make sure I can fully trust myself not to just accidentally expose us because I’m so excited.

One of these days...

A heavy sigh flits through my lips as I force my thoughts into tonight. The only thing I need to really make sure happens is that I don’t fall asleep. Compared to the idea of sneaking into an exclusive dorm, this dinner seems like a snooze fest. If anything, I’ll be able to tell Dad I was practicing being a member of high society.

At least, that’s how it appears once I pull into the parking lot. So many expensive cars fill the spots as people file in. That is, those who aren’t taking advantage of valet. Granted, I can easily afford it, but parking where I am allows me to observe without being readily seen.

It seems to be a gift of mine. That, or my gender, is what allows me to simply blend in and not stand out. Men always seem to underestimate me, and one day, I’ll learn to use that to my full advantage.

The instant I step out of my car, the men nearby stop and stare. So much for being completely invisible. I can almost feel the lust as it drifts off of them, making me feel exposed despite the luxurious fabric covering so much of me.

Their gazes drift up and down my body in a bold manner as they whistle out their appreciation. However, they don’t really do anything for me. No fluttering, no butterflies, nothing. It’s the same as I’m used to. A piece of meat they can’t wait to sink their teeth into.

It’s no hardship to ignore them as I gather my small notebook and pen and head toward the main door. Yet as my hips sway with every step, I feel their gazes follow. It’s predatory somehow, as if I’ve stepped into the lion’s den with not even a hint of protection.

Until this moment, I’ve never felt singularly unsafe at Loftry. This feeling is altogether different and unwelcome, one I’m tempted to write about in an upcoming issue. Forcing my gaze ahead of me, I keep note of how they follow and hold some strength in reserve for if I need to protect myself.

Sliding the edge of my car key between my fingers, I stride forward with purposeful steps, allowing my body language to show them I’m no victim. Whether or not they planned to harm me or if I somehow manage to convince them not to, I make it to the front steps without molestation.

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