“It comes easy when you don’t have shit to start with.”
“You believed in me,” I say. “You’re the only one who ever has. That means a lot. I won’t forget that.”
But even as I bask in my newfound independence, I’m not na?ve enough to believe my parents will take my decision lying down. They’ll figure out a way to make it hurt. No one crosses my father and gets away with it. So there will definitely be fallout from this sudden outburst of disobedience. It’s only a question of how bad.
It doesn’t take long for the consequences of my actions to make themselves known. Exactly six days after dropping out, I receive an email from the dean of students. It’s short and concise. A polite Get your ass in here.
I’m a few minutes late for the meeting, and I’m ushered into a cherry wood–trimmed office by the secretary. The dean is otherwise engaged and will be with me in a moment. Would I care for some water?
I guess my parents made a few calls hoping a neutral third party can lobby me on their behalf to not drop out of school. Though as far as I’m concerned, all that’s left are the formalities of paperwork. Admittedly, I’ve made little progress on finalizing my withdrawal from Garnet. Between the hotel and my websites occupying most of my attention, I’ve enjoyed what counts for me as slacking off.
“So sorry about that.” Dean Freitag, a petite woman whose leather skin clings in brittle ripples to her bones, enters the room. She comes around her desk, breathless, fluffing the humidity out of her shoulder-length helmet of blonde hair. She adjusts the jacket of her cranberry suit ensemble and pulls the silk scarf from her neck. “Hotter than the devil’s bathtub out there.”
The dean flicks on a small desk fan and aims it at herself, basking for a moment in the breeze before turning her attention back to me.
“Now, Ms. Cabot.” Her demeanor shifts. “I understand you’ve not attended a single class in the last week.”
“No, ma’am. I’ve come to the decision to withdraw from the semester.”
“Oh? If I recall, you’ve already delayed your freshman year by twelve months.” One pencil-thin eyebrow props up. “What’s so pressing that your education must wait?”
Something about her friendly ignorance unnerves me. As if I’m walking into a trap.
“Actually, I’m withdrawing from Garnet entirely. I won’t be back next semester.”
She regards me, impassive, for several seconds. So long that I’m almost moved to elaborate to get her going again. When she finally speaks, I can’t help but interpret some vengeance in her voice.
“And I suppose you’ve given this a fair bit of thought?”
“I have. Yes, ma’am.”
A brief suit yourself smile crosses her lips before she rattles her computer mouse to wake the screen. She trains her attention on it as she speaks.
“Well, then we can certainly help you with that. I’ll have my secretary pull the necessary forms.” She glances at me with a look that falls short of reassurance. “Don’t worry, it’s just a signature or two.” Clicking her mouse around. “Of course you’ll need to vacate your dorm at Tally Hall within twenty-four hours of submitting notice to the Office of Student Housing.” She hits me with the Miss Melon Pageant smile. “Which—here we are!—I’ve just submitted it for you.”
And there it is. Total setup.
A big screw you from Daddy.
She’s right, of course. I have no business squatting in a dorm room if I’m not a student here. A minor detail that seemed to slip my mind. No doubt my parents spent the last week waiting for me to come crawling back home for a place to stay.
“Will there be anything else?” The dean grins at me as if I’ve done this to her. A personal slight.
I don’t waste a second agonizing over it, however. For better or worse, we’re broken up.
“No, ma’am.” I offer a saccharine smile and rise to my feet. “I’ll just be on my way.”
An hour later, I’m in my dorm, boxing up my belongings. A little over three months. That’s how long my college career lasted, and yet …I’m not sad to see it end.
I’m pulling clothes off hangers when I hear the buzz of an incoming text. I grab the phone from my desk. It’s a message from Kate, who I haven’t seen in weeks. I asked her to hang out a couple times—I didn’t want to be one of those girls who ditches her friends the moment she starts dating a new guy—but she’s been busy rehearsing with some band she joined last month. She plays the bass guitar, apparently.