Page 85 of Broken by my Bully
I drop the envelope back on the girl’s lap desk. Tap it with a finger.
“Name.”
“He didn’t say we had to put our names on it.”
I helped type up the assignment, so I know why she doesn’t want to incriminate herself. Rooke’s fucking mental. But it’s his class, his rules. He said to make sure the envelopes had the students’s names on it so here we are.
“If you don’t put your names on it, how the hell would he know you’ve submitted it?” When I tilt my head at her, she groans and quickly scribbles her and her partner’s name on the envelope.
It goes on top of the stack in my hand as I make my way through the students.
I leave Haven and Melissa for last, because fuck Haven.
It’s her new BFF that hands me the envelope though, and for asplit second I wonder if Haven told Parker about us. Like what happened at the diner. Or under the table in the library. But when I look at Melissa, she just watches me, expressionless. But that’s kind of her face’s default setting, so who knows?
Haven makes a point of looking down at her notes, seemingly oblivious to my presence.
Pretend all you want, Miss H. This monster doesn’t disappear when you put a blanket over your head.
I snatch the envelope out of Melissa’s hand and go to set them all down on the table.
Fuck, when is Rooke getting here?
I glance at the class notes again. Bite the inside of my cheek. There’s no way I’m going to lecture these assholes. I scan his notes until I get to one of the last bullet points.
Threaten to read the contents of their envelopes.
Fuck, this guy should be committed.
That’s Milgram-levels of cruelty. Was he getting a hard on picturing how these idiots would start squirming?
I look up at the class.
“Did you guys enjoy the assignment?”
There’s some scattered laughter, a groaned, “No!” paired with a more enthusiastic, “Yes!” on the other side of the room.
The chick who didn’t want to put her name on the envelope calls out, “That assignment was degrading and humiliating, bordering on an attack on human rights.”
“Humanrights?” I laugh. “Yeah, fuck, I’m not touching that.” I lift my hands, getting a round of laughs from the students. “You realize the professor’s gonna rip you a new one, right?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, sulky but determined.
Fucking good for her.
I’m low key surprised that more students didn’t refuse to participate. That last bit with the secret? God, what I wouldn’t take to look inside some of those.
Threaten to read the contents of their envelopes.
“You guys have at least gotten the gist of Zimbardo’s experiment by now, right? How normal people can become sadistic assholes when they’re given some authority. Even when everyone involved knows it’s bullshit?”
Some murmurs, but most of the class is on their phone, or talking with the person next to them.
“Look, I’m in charge until the professor gets here.” I pick up the stack of envelopes and slap it against my palm. “Icouldstart the lecture. But who knows when I’ll have this much power again?”
A few more students perk up at this, some frowning, others smiling like they know what’s coming.
Haven is staring at me like she’s just spent three years building a house of cards, and I’m holding a flamethrower.
