Even he can’t fix this.
I stare at my hands as the Headmaster lists the charges accumulated in the last twenty-four hours. It’s quite the laundry list. Setting aside the context and severity of the crime, the old me would have probably been a touch proud. But all leniency for the Devils is gone. The acts of vandalism, bullying, and general violations of the school’s code of conduct are in direct defiance of the deal we made last year. Targeting Micha Adams was more than just abhorrent. It goes beyond even the cowardice of the thing. It was just plain fucking stupid.
Off limits. That was the rule about the Adams family. And we all broke it.
By all accounts, I’m the worst offender.
I wait patiently for him to bring up my treatment of Gwendolyn, an accusation of sexual misconduct looming stark on the horizon. That’ll really be the cherry on this shit pie. I spent all night thinking of what I’d say. The way I see it, I have two choices. I can either insist that there’s been a huge misunderstanding and drag her in here to give her full account, or I can just... sit back and take it.
I decided long ago to simply roll with the punch.
I’m mentally preparing to prostrate myself in the face of it all—obviously, some of Gwendolyn’s martyr complex must have rubbed off on me—but it’s all for nothing.
It never comes up.
“It’s my understanding, Hamilton,” the Headmaster says, “that you spearheaded the clean-up of the wall.”
Well, at least the guys told him that. “Yes, sir.”
“Can you explain why you’d vandalize something only to immediately clean it off?”
I’d shrug if my shoulder didn’t hurt so much. “No.”
“No?” My father shifts in his seat, turning his irate gaze on me. “You can’t explain your own senseless actions?”
I flick my eyes toward him, wishing I could muster even a fraction of the fury I see in his eyes, because seriously, join the club. Despite having been boiling with rage about this for twenty-four hours, it’s buried so deep beneath my apathy that all I can manage is a nod.
“Look, just give me my punishment. I can accept the consequences.” I glance at the Headmaster, asking plainly, “Are you kicking me out?”
He sighs, folding his hands on the desk. “Can you give me a terribly compelling reason why I shouldn’t?”
Again, I say, “No.”
“Hamilton!” My dad fumes at me for a few solid seconds before turning to the Headmaster. “He’s the top of his class, Victor. You know his record.”
“You’re right,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “I do.”
“A few disciplinary problems don’t cancel out years of academic, athletic, and creative excellence. Hamilton is a pillar of this institution. A legacy. I defy you to look me in the eye and say that Preston Prep won’t be losing more than it gains by being rid of him.”
The Headmaster’s gaze turns to me. “Academics, athletics, and creativity are an important part of this institution. But you cleaned up the vandalism and there’s no evidence that you participated in the social media bullying campaign. Those are the only reasons I’m giving your continued enrollment here any thought. Do you understand?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
He sighs, watching me closely. “I’m willing to let you remain on campus, but there will be conditions. For one,” I don’t miss his weary glance at my father, “you’ll have to resign your position as co-captain of the swim team, and this will go on your permanent record, which means you’ll have to reveal this as a disciplinary action on your college applications.”
“Now, you wait—” my father begins, but the Headmaster cuts him off.
“This isn’t going away, Martin. I’ve done it once. I can’t do it again.”
“It’s fine,” I say, no longer caring about swim or college or anything else. Why should I? I found something more important to me than any of that, and before I ever truly made her mine, I lost her. I deserve this and so much more. “Whatever you think. I accept it.”
“There is one more thing,” he adds.
“Yes, sir?”
“The Devils are to be disbanded and—”
“Already done,” I reply.