And that’s the beauty of Frank’s plan.
Nobody in their rightful mind would believe that Frank O’Conner paid a woman for her child, raised it as his own, and then told that child she would have to marry his son.
No one.
It sounds ridiculous, even to me.
My mouth is dry. Again. It’s always dry these days. I’m full of nervousness and anxiety, and while I understand what he’s trying to do – offer me a way out – there’s no way I can take it.
“I’m fine,” I say, shrugging. I offer a little giggle, too, just for good measure. I know that he sees right through me, and he sighs.
“If you change your mind,” he says.
“I won’t.”
I should thank him for reaching out. Really, I should. I should thank him for caring enough to talk with me instead of just sending me to detention without thinking it through, but I can’t. I deserve this. This, and so much worse.
So I turn, and I go. I have two more classes to sit through and then I’ll go to detention and take my punishment like a big girl.
I’m used to it.
CRESCENT ACADEMY IS a beautiful school, and its study hall is no exception. The room is big and lovely and even though the desks are plain and ordinary, the walls have floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that I just want to lose myself in. The shelves are filled with every kind of book imaginable. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that this isn’t even the campus library. The library this school has is truly unbeatable. Today, though, I’m not visiting study hall to look at the books or to lose myself in an adventure.
I’m here to take my punishment and to hopefully, hurry up and get it over with. I don’t want to be here. I need to start studying for my exams and trying to figure out a way to avoid flunking the math portion of my exams next week.
That’s what I need to be doing.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to get at least a little bit of homework done while I’m in study hall. I’m not exactly an expert bad-girl, so who knows? Maybe studying during detention is totally easy and it’ll be just the prep I need to help me succeed.
Study hall is still in session when I arrive a few minutes early for my detention. I wait outside and lean against the stone wall. For just a second, I close my eyes. I feel stuck, trapped in my own life. What the hell am I going to do about next week?
About my future?
What am I going to do when I’m stuck at Harrison’s house?
When I’m hanging out with him every day?
When there’s no way to get away from him?
I don’t even want to think about how much stress or anxiety weighing in at his house is going to bring me. It’s hard enough managing my weight with Emilia and Karen breathing down my neck all the time.
How am I going to eat at Harrison’s house?
Will Frank have special meals served for me?
I don’t even want to think about it.
Frank sucks, and my compliance with this situation sucks even more. He has this nasty, horrible plan for my life, and the truth is that I’m just getting tired of it. I feel like he’s dictated every aspect of my life. In turn, Harrison has dictated so much of my life. What I want is to be free from everything: Frank’s hold over me, my crush on Harrison.
All of it.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
I groan inwardly when I hear his voice, and I look up to see none other than Harrison O’Conner standing in front of me. He’s too close for comfort: close enough that it’s obvious he’s invading my space. He knows it, too.
We both do.
And that’s his power. He has no problem getting in someone’s face and bothering them. It doesn’t matter that my arms are crossed over my chest or that I’m giving off don’t-mess-with-me vibes. He doesn’t care about that because he’s a dick.