Page 22 of Ruin Me
My determination feels like a fire inside, burning away the tiredness. I’ve always felt a little uneasy about this scholarship. Post-grad funding is usually in the form of a loan, but whenever I asked Mum, she assured me it was all sorted and that I shouldn’t think of it again but now with this mysterious father looming over me, I have to know. Whoever put the money up for this ‘scholarship’, I have a right to know.
I grab my jeans from the chair and pull them on. They’re worn at the knees, threads threatening to give out. Doesn’t matter; they’re just a means to an end. Same goes for the plain t-shirt I snatch from the dresser.
I sit on the bed and tie my trainers tight, the loops quick and efficient. I’m all about practicality now in case I’m forced to run for my life again.
The twins made me promise to wait for them to pick me up to head to campus, but this is too big, and I can’t wait. The Administration office will have someone milling about around seven o’clock for the early athletics classes which start at 7.30 AM. Making a tea to go, I pick up my backpack and sling it overmy shoulder, leaving my flat with only a tiny sliver of thought for my safety.
The hallway outside my flat is silent, save for the occasional creak of ageing floorboards. I close the door softly behind me and creep forward.
The cold morning air hits me with a chill when I step outside, but it’s not enough to cool the burning need for answers.
As I move across the campus, closer to the Admin building, my pace quickens. Curiosity mixes with the tension, churning in my gut. I rehearse the questions I’ll ask, the firm tone I’ll use to demand transparency. They have to tell me something, right? It’s my life they’ve been dealing with in shadows.
The leaves rustle above me as if sharing whispered secrets of their own, and the crispness of the autumn air fills my lungs. With each breath, the haze of sleeplessness clears a bit more, sharpened by the edge of the cold and the urgency of my mission.
Finally, the Admin office looms ahead, its brick facade more imposing in the early morning light. I take a moment, steeling myself. Whatever lies inside those walls, whatever truths about my funding, I’m ready to face it all—head-on, no flinching. This is about my future, and I won’t let anyone control it but me.
A sense of resolve settles over me as I reach for the door, ready to delve into the unknown.
I push at the door, knowing I’m early but it opens so I slip inside.
“Not quite open yet, love,” The woman at the desk looks up, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose.
“I know, I can wait for official hours.”
“We’re only really supposed to be here for the early birds,” she says, giving me a once-over and deciding I’m not about to run track in my jeans and tee.
“I know, but I have some questions. I’ll wait.”
“What questions?” she asks, curiosity getting the better of her.
“Uhm, I need some information about my funding,” I say, keeping my voice steady.
“What kind of information?” she asks with a frown.
“Well, I’ve lost the paperwork or possibly left it at home like an idiot,” I chirp, “and I need to know the next payment. It’s completely slipped my mind.”
She stares at me for a few seconds and then blinks, tilting her head slightly. “Your name?”
“Vogue Jameson.” I watch as she types it into her computer, her fingers tapping away in a staccato rhythm that seems too loud in the quiet office.
“Ah, here we are,” she murmurs, peering at the screen. “Well, that’s odd.”
“What’s odd?” My heart starts to race, but I keep my face composed.
“Your entire course has been paid for. Upfront.” She squints at the screen, then back at me, her surprise unmistakable, but then she frowns at me as if I should know this. Which I fucking well should.
“Oh?” I murmur. “Was it Megan Jameson? Mymum always does crazy things like this,” I joke lamely.
She gives me a tight smile. “It says Aaron McGowan. Listed as your father.”
My breath catches, and for a second, the room spins. “Damn him,” I hiss but then force a smile on my face that matches hers. “Thanks,” I manage, my mind racing.
That fucker!
Without another word, I turn and walk out, the door closing softly behind me, my mind a whirling mess. It’s like the ground shifts beneath me, and I can’t find solid footing.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. The revelation crashes against my pride like waves against a cliff. Betrayal stings sharp as a slap across my face; Mum knew about this all along. She had to have because of the lies she told me. Sheliedto me.
