Page 83 of Dean's Delinquent

“Wait. This is still about the stupid gala?” I’m not sure whether or not I should be relieved or annoyed that I was right in my assessment. “You’re making it sound like it’s a life-or-death situation.”

“Well... I mean...” He ducks his head and looks around as if about to reveal some massive secret. “There could be a reason I’m very anxious to coordinate with you. But that would be for me to know and you to find out.”

Fuck.

Everything seems to narrow as the sound of rushing water floods my ears. Darkness tinges my vision as he smiles down at me, his lips quirked into a hopeful yet predatory smile. There’s only one thing that would warrant this level of detail. He plans to propose. Deep in my gut, I just know it.

“That sounds fun,” I laugh weakly. “But I already have other plans. I’m actually going with Dean Anderson as his plus one so I can cover the event for the Loftry Lantern.”

His gaze narrows for a moment, transforming his face into a mask of fury. Just as quickly as it happens, however, it disappears, making me question if I’m just seeing things. Caldwell doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. I must just be projecting my worst fears onto him.

“Didn’t you already go to the benefit with him? He should share you from time to time. Besides, it’s just the school paper. It’s not like it will make a difference if you cover it or not.”

And that’s where the fundamental difference between him and Dean Anderson lies. Never once has my dean made me put my dreams on hold to accommodate him. In fact, every time I turn around, he’s fostering an environment where I can grow and blossom. He cares about me and my ambitions. Caldwell just wants a trophy hanging on his arm.

I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t care if I was actually smart or dumb. No. Scratch that. I’m pretty sure he would rather I be dumb so he could control me a lot easier.

“It would make a difference to me.”

“Come on Ash. Can’t you just forget about this stupid paper for one fucking night?”

I blink up at the man and shake my head. “You really don’t care about my dreams. Do you?”

“Babe. Come on. It’s not like that. I-“

“Don’t call me babe. I’m not your babe. I’m not your anything.” Anger tinges my tone as I rise up to my full height.

Somewhere behind me, Dean Anderson is in his office. No doubt all he has to do is look out his window and see this interaction. It’s not as if I have anything to hide, but I sure as hell don’t want him to think I’m entertaining this crap.

And it is crap. Never once have I told Caldwell I felt anything for him. Never once did I make plans for our future. It was all him. It was all one-sided. My parents probably didn’t help matters any, but they should have known all plans were fluid once I got accepted into Loftry after applying against their wishes.

At what point will someone consider me and my wants?

“I’m not telling you what color dress I’m wearing,” I seethe as I step in closer. “I’m not telling you how I’m going to fix my hair. I’m not telling you jack shit about any of this because it’s none of your concern. If you want to go to the gala, I’m not going to stop you. But it will be without me. It will always be without me.”

Without waiting for a reply, I whirl around and look up at the top of the building. Though I can’t see my dean, my soul feels like he’s there with me. I can only hope this dumbass gets the message. If he doesn’t, I’m more than willing to let my Master try to get through to him.

ChapterThirty-Three

Ashleigh

Master

I’m going to be late tonight. Don’t worry about trying to stay up for me. I’ll make sure I wake you up properly when I get there. >:)

Asoft smile flits across my lips as I answer back with a smiley face. Honestly, my favorite moments are when he wakes me up from a deep sleep with his tongue deep inside my pussy. Unfortunately, the contented feeling doesn’t seem to last long.

I’m restless. There’s an itch under my skin, a need to move, to change. It’s not the same as when I’ve needed to brat so he’ll take me in hand. This is something different. It’s bone-deep and exhausting.

Packing up my stuff, I slump down onto a nearby stone bench and watch the fountain bubble up. Perhaps it’s the weather. Even now, a soft breeze tousles my hair, dispelling the warmth of the sun. It’s not hot. It’s not cold. Almost like a false spring. Balmy even.

It makes every molecule come alive and want to dance. Unfortunately, I have no partner. With Dean Anderson off at some convention, it leaves me all by myself. Again, I try to figure out what this is. I just want to... live. It’s the only way I can describe it.

Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I walk over to the fountain and study the spray. It’s pretty enough, but not nearly as ornate as the one in the maze. I know Dean Anderson said it was all off limits, but what harm is there in doing my classwork by the fountain?

It’s not like I’ll be in the thick of things. Besides, at this point in the day, there really shouldn’t be anyone there. At least, I can only assume so. Dean Anderson never really gave me the play-by-play of what went on when there weren’t any initiations happening.

Glancing at my phone, I reread the text. He’s not going to be home until late anyway. If I’m remembering correctly, there are no cameras in the maze. So how will he even know?

---