“Miss Porter, please come in. Sit.” He pointed to the chair on the opposite side of his desk, and I sat, placing my bag on top of my lap, fidgeting as he sat down and steepled his fingers. “I’m just going to cut straight to the chase here. It was brought to my attention that you were having relations with a member of my faculty.”
Shit. I looked down, too nervous to look him in the eye.
“Is that true?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What you were doing was highly inappropriate, and I’m sure you know we have a strict policy about fraternization here. After hearing from Alisha Bell, who told me all about what she suspected, I spoke to Professor Grant for several hours yesterday, trying to understand his position on this matter and why he’d do something like it. I expected him to deny it, but he didn’t. He confessed. I’ve never had this kind of situation before, and I had to write up a formal letter to send to the board on his behalf. Anyway, he made it very clear to me that you were not taken advantage of—that you both were okay with…the relationship you were having. Is that also true?”
I swallowed and nodded. No point in lying now. “Yes, that’s true, sir.”
“Right.” Richardson sighed.
“If you have to expel me, I understand, Mr. Richardson. What I did was wrong, and I’m really, really sorry.”
“Oh, I’m not going to expel you,” he countered quickly. “There’s no need for that. These fraternization matters are tricky, yes, but expelling you will only cause more drama.”
I picked my head up quickly, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Professor Grant and I agreed it would be best to keep this matter quiet. One private relationship—despite it being on my campus—shouldn’t cause an uproar. It will shine a bad light on the university, and I can’t have that, so instead of expelling you and firing him, we agreed he would be fired and removed from campus, effective immediately.”
“W-what?” I gasped. “Why would he agree to that?”
“I suppose he really cares about your education. I looked into your history, your grades. You’ve never missed an assignment. You’re dedicated, and you seem like a wonderful student, Miss Porter. I’m sure this was a mistake for you, but you’re young and we’re all full of mistakes, so I won’t let that hinder your future. With him no longer around, you should be able to focus more on your education now.”
“Right.” I breathed out, forcing a smile at him. I was sure he wanted me to be grateful for his decision, but he had it wrong about one thing.
What I had with Cole was not a mistake, no matter how it ended. I couldn’t believe he’d thrown himself under the bus for me. When he said he’d take care of it, I didn’t think he would do this—lose his job, get fired, make a deal, all for my sake. It proved maybe he cared about me a lot more than I realized. But whether Richardson kept the matter quiet or not, he still was going to have to put down a reason for why he fired Cole in his files. It was going to stain his reputation and his records…and it was all my fault.
Richardson told me he would keep my relationship with Cole under wraps, due to a privacy policy. He mentioned that I should tell my parents, just so they were aware, but I had no need, and there was only my mom. She wouldn’t have cared, and I meant that in the coolest way possible. She was the kind of mother who would high-five me for boning a professor. She was the least of my worries. If I ever told her about Cole one day, she wasn’t going to be happy that I’d kept it a secret from her, but she wouldn’t hold it against me either.
“Think about what you’ve done, and work on improving yourself, Miss Porter,” Richardson said as I stood. “I’ll be keeping a careful eye on how you utilize this second chance.”
“I will,” I murmured. I thanked him before leaving, and as soon as I’d left the building, I made my way off campus and in the direction of Cole’s apartment.
Richardson could keep an eye all he wanted after today, but right now, I needed to know Cole was okay.
33
Cole
I sighed and set down the roll of duct tape in my hand after sealing one of the boxes. I couldn’t believe this was happening—and that I had to pack my stuff all at once. Granted, I didn’t really have much, but I’d been in this apartment for six years. It’d felt like home, but now it was becoming a place I was forced to leave behind.
As I picked up the box and carried it toward the rest of the boxes in a corner, there was a knock at the door. I set the box down and moved over to the door, peering through the peephole. Of course, it was Zara. Dean Richardson had told me he was going to let her off easy, so long as I did my part. She had a second chance. Why didn’t she just run in the other direction?