Page 39 of Dean's Delinquent

Jerking my wheels to the right, I go off onto some dinky side road leading up to a lab of some sort. I’m still close enough that I can watch what he’s doing, but he probably won’t think twice about some science nerd stalking him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t turn up to the sorority house.

Where the hell is he going?

As I’m about to start my car back up to follow him, the ones behind me pull into the sorority parking lot. From the looks of it, they’re older men. I can’t make out their faces due to the sun setting and the tinting of the windows, but something isn’t right. It’s not possible that Loftry is the front for some underground sex ring, is it?

Now, more than ever, I wish Marnie was here to investigate this with me. No one else seems to understand my insatiable curiosity or my drive for the truth. In these few moments while I sit alone in my car, the weight of loneliness descends upon me like a shroud.

No one seems to understand me.

Doctor Andrew might, but his brusque nature and insensitive way of handling me leaves much to be desired. But then, is it really all that fair when all I seem to want is for Dean Anderson to be the one who understands me? Even with all my research, many things just don’t make sense.

Deep down in my gut, I know he can help me understand. He can help me figure out these feelings fluttering through me like nauseating butterflies threatening to make me just fall to my knees at his feet. He would be such an excellent teacher to this novice apprentice.

I just know it.

Unfortunately, now is not the time to wax poetic in my brain. Not when I feel like the biggest mystery of them all lies at my feet, ready to be discovered. No doubt, whatever I find will be more than enough for Dean Anderson to break this self-imposed vow of silence and take me into his office once more.

What will he use on me? The paddle again? The cane? Or would he use some of those other tools I saw online?

A nervous giggle bubbles in my gut and vibrates through my chest as I drive over to the Chi Sigma Delta house. With Doctor Andrew going somewhere else, I’m pretty sure I won’t get discovered. If I do, I can just play the role of a dumb blonde and say I got lost.

Easy peasy.

Easing into an empty spot, my pulse races as I watch the people coming in and out. So many men—several of them teachers. What the hell are teachers going into a sorority house for?

I pull out my phone and scroll through the community list, looking for anything that might explain this. Perhaps there’s an open house? It’s definitely not a rush. Besides, teachers don’t go to those, anyway.

For a moment, my heart stutters as I do my best to peer through the doors. The other explanation could be an emergency. But then there are no medical vehicles, and the men seem dressed in designer suits.

Besides, they’re not moving nearly quick enough to denote any real emergency. Soon, girls file out after them, laughing and carrying on as if they’re all going out on a date or something.

It’s forbidden to date or engage with a student in an inappropriate way.Did I somehow misread the answers to my questions? But that’s absurd.

If it’s so forbidden, then why does everything look so intimate, so familiar, so heart-wrenchingly cozy? A dull ache spreads through my brain and drizzles into my heart as I continue to watch everything, unable to look away.

Forbidden... right. There’s too much flirting going on here. There’s far too much touching, too much joking for it to be anything innocent. And unless I’ve just completely lost my mind, I know for a fact that several of those men were at the benefit.

Who’s benefiting whom indeed?

Someone else needs to know about this. I can’t be the only one sitting on such a major scoop. Huddling down as best as I can so I can’t be seen, I snap a few pictures with my phone. Something is definitely not right here, and there is only one person I can talk to, someone perfect to puzzle this out with.

The scene looks so eerily similar to what Marnie and I saw a few months or so ago when she and I first met up. Only then, the girls were flitting in and out wearing robes while the men were wearing masks. At some undefinable point, the robes just vanished.

Could it be that they knew they were being watched? Honestly, the late-night strolls in the robes is what instantly perked my interest. At first, I thought maybe it was a wannabe coven. Like the house president saw The Craft or Practical Magic one too many times and decided to make it a thing.

It might also explain why they never had a Rush or seemed to invite new girls to join their ranks. Only, what I once envisioned as late-night Ouija board sessions or games of light as a feather stiff as a board now feel childish compared to what I’m seeing. The men accompanying them don’t look like the types to cast spells.

They look like they were made for sex. Pure and simple.

Ashleigh

You won’t believe this. Teachers and other guys are all up in the Chi Sigma Delta house. You were right. There’s def something fishy going on there.

As I upload one of the pictures and send it on along with the text, I do a happy squirm in my seat. Finally, a real story I can sink my teeth into.

Marnie

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