Cheska

I spent the entire day hiding. I stayed tangled in my sheets, staring at the ceiling until my eyes burned. Every time I closed them, he was there. I could still feel the phantom heat of Damian's lips against mine, taste the dark, expensive scent of his breath, and feel the terrifying jolt of adrenaline when Kier called him Dad.

The realization was a heavy weight in my stomach. We lived only a few blocks apart. In a neighborhood this small, our paths were bound to collide, especially since I was dating his stepson. I wanted to disappear, to run until I forgot the way his hands felt on my waist, but there was nowhere to go.

I didn't sleep. By the time the sun started bleeding through the curtains, my head was throbbing. I considered skipping class, but my coach had texted me saying my spot on the varsity team was safe despite my failed subject. I had to show up. I had to be the girl everyone expected me to be.

I dragged myself out of bed, feeling like a hollow shell. I dressed quickly and slipped out of the house early, hoping the morning mist would shield me from anyone I knew.

Then, the sound of a horn sliced through the quiet street. A sleek red car pulled up beside me.

The window rolled down, and my heart stopped.

Damian.

A current of electricity surged under my skin, pinning me to the pavement. My hands began to shake, so I shoved them into my pockets. He leaned toward the passenger side, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips as if he could smell the panic coming off me in waves.

"Good morning," he said. His voice was smooth, like expensive bourbon. He acted as if we hadn't been pressed against each other in a dark bar forty-eight hours ago. "Need a ride? I'm heading that way."

I couldn't find my voice. I knew I should say no, but the air between us felt thick and magnetic. I found myself nodding and climbing in before my brain could find a reason to stop me.

The interior of the car smelled like him-leather and something spicy. The silence was agonizing. Every second felt like a heartbeat thudding in my throat. After a few minutes, he broke the tension without taking his eyes off the road.

"Kier and I talked about you last night," he said casually. "He had a lot to say. You two are dating, right?"

A cold shiver raced down my spine. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. Had he told him? Was Kier waiting at school to scream at me?

"It's... it's more of a fling setup for now," I stammered, hating how small my voice sounded.

Damian just nodded. The silence returned, but this time it felt sharper. I forced myself to look at him, my pulse racing.

"Damian," I started, my voice trembling. "About that night. I didn't mean for it to happen. It was a dare. My friends... I didn't really have a choice."

He slowed the car at a red light and turned to me. His gaze was intense, dark, and far too observant. Slowly, his lips curved into a wicked grin.

"So... it isn't true that I'm a bad kisser?"

I felt the blood rush to my face. "What? I-no-I didn't-"

He let out a low, deep laugh that vibrated in my chest. "I'm kidding. Relax, Cheska. You look like you're about to jump out of the moving car. Don't worry. I have no plans of telling Kier what happened."

He turned back to the road, his profile sharp and devastatingly handsome. "It's better if we just forget it. Act like it never happened. Also, stop calling me 'Sir' or 'Po.' Damian is fine. I'm only twenty-eight. You're making me feel like an old man."

I froze. Twenty-eight?

Kier was twenty-four. There were only four years between them. My mind raced, trying to do the math, trying to figure out how he could possibly be Kier's stepfather. He was barely older than my boyfriend, yet he carried himself with a power that made Kier look like a child.

"Oh... okay," I whispered, my face still flaming. "Thank you, Damian."

I fumbled over his name, my tongue tripping. I reached up to rub the back of my neck, wishing the floor would open up.

He laughed again, a rich sound that seemed to pull the oxygen out of the car. "You're really bad at this, aren't you?" he teased, his eyes flickering to me with a spark of something dangerous. "But at least you're trying."

I force a smile, feeling the heavy knot in my chest loosen just a fraction. Breathing becomes a little easier. My mind is still a blur of images from the last few minutes. I keep seeing the way Damian's lips curled when he teased me and the way his voice vibrated in the small, expensive space of the car. It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that he's only twenty-eight. He has the kind of presence that makes him feel like he owns every room he walks into, a stark contrast to Kier's boyish energy.

A familiar face on the sidewalk snaps me out of my trance. It's Kai. She's leaning against a post, looking as chaotic and ready for trouble as ever. Kai is the kind of friend who would start a riot for me without asking why.

"Uhm, you can drop me here, Damian. I'll just walk with my friend," I say, my voice a little breathless as I point toward Kai.

"Are you sure? Your school is just a few blocks away," he asks. He slows the car, his hand shifting on the gear stick. I catch the way the muscles in his forearm flex under his rolled-up sleeves.

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's close enough. Thanks for the ride." I give him a quick, tight smile.

He nods, his dark eyes lingering on mine for a second too long before he pulls away. "Sure. Stay safe, Cheska."

I stand on the curb and watch the red car disappear around the corner. Kai is already hovering next to me, her eyes wide and a massive, devious smirk plastered on her face.

"Holy shit, Cheska. Who was that? He is gorgeous," she squeals, nudging me hard. "Please tell me you're hooking up with him while you're dating Kier. That man is a literal god."

I let out a long, exhausted breath and start walking toward the campus gates. "Kai, stop. It's a long story and I am not in the mood to tell it yet."

"Fine," she says, though I know she'll be digging for details within the hour. Her tone shifts, becoming a bit softer. "Anyway, what happened the other day? You looked like a ghost after Mr. Serrano's class. I was actually worried about you."

I groan at the mention of that name. Mr. Serrano. The man who single-handedly ruined my GPA. "Ugh, don't remind me. I can't stand him. Honestly, the only thing I learned in his class was how to submit an assignment at 11:59 p.m. without having a heart attack."

We both burst into a fit of laughter, the kind of loud, ugly laughing that makes people stare. I'm doubled over, finally feeling like myself again, when a cold, sharp voice cuts through the air behind us.

"Is that right, Ms. Vega?"

The laughter dies in my throat. My blood turns to ice. I turn around slowly, praying the earth will open up and swallow me whole.

God, no. It's Mr. Serrano.

Kai is biting her lip to keep from losing it, but I'm frozen. "G-good morning, Mr. Serrano," I stammer. My heart is hammering against my ribs. "We... we weren't talking about you."

He gives me a look that says he knows exactly how much I'm lying. A small, dangerous smile touches his lips. It isn't a friendly smile. It's the kind of smile a predator gives its prey.

"If all you learned from my class was how to beat a deadline," he says, his voice low and terrifyingly calm, "then you definitely deserve to be sitting in my front row again this year, Ms. Vega."

He doesn't wait for me to respond. He just turns and walks away, his back straight, looking perfectly composed while I'm left standing there looking like an idiot.

"Cheska..." Kai whispers, finally letting out a muffled giggle. "Talk about bad timing. You basically summoned the devil. Looks like you're going to have a fun year with Mr. Beast."

I roll my eyes and give her a shove, trying to ignore the way my pulse is still racing. "Shut up, Kai. He's probably going to give me a pop quiz just for breathing in his direction."

I head straight to the gym for cheer practice. I need to move. I need to sweat out the stress of the morning and forget about the two men currently occupying every corner of my brain. The gym is humid and smells like floor wax and effort.

Halfway through our routine, Coach blows the whistle. "Girls! Everyone over here. Since we only have the seniors today, I have something to ask."

We huddle around her, dripping with sweat and gasping for air. I wipe a bead of perspiration from my forehead, feeling the familiar burn in my muscles.

"As you all know, Cheska is back with us for another year," Coach says, glancing at me with a smile. "I want to put it to a vote. Do we keep her as captain, or do we want to pick someone new?"

Before I can even process the question, Stephanie's hand shoots up.

"Coach, you and Cheska are the reason we made it to nationals last year," Stephanie says firmly. "We want her to stay. There's no one else who can lead this team like she does."

The rest of the girls start cheering and clapping. The sound echoes off the high ceilings of the gym, filling me with a sudden, sharp burst of pride.

Coach motions for me to stand beside her. "Well, that's that. Since everyone is on board, Cheska will be your captain for the year."

The team erupts again. For the first time all day, the heavy weight in my chest lifts. I'm still the girl who can lead. I'm still the girl who wins. Even if my personal life is a complete mess, at least in this gym, I know exactly who I am.

Coach is still talking, but the air in the gym shifts. I feel it before I see it. It is that prickle on the back of my neck when someone powerful enters the room. I look toward the far end of the gym and spot a man standing by the doors.

He looks like an admin, but he moves like he owns the building. He is wearing a crisp suit that hugs a frame just as tall and broad as Damian's. He holds a clipboard in one hand, but his presence is what really commands attention. Every girl on the squad stops moving. We all turn, drawn in like moths to a flame.

I take a second look, and my breath hitches. He has jet black hair and eyes so blue they look like shards of ice. He is undeniably handsome, though his face is set in a harsh, bossy expression that makes my skin itch.

He starts walking toward us. The gym goes dead silent. I swallow hard, the sound loud in my own ears as he stops in front of our group.

"Who is your captain?" he asks.

His voice is cold. It cuts right through the humid air. We all trade looks, the silence stretching out for a few heartbeats. I take a breath, square my shoulders, and lift my hand.

"I am. I'm Cheska Vega, the captain," I say. I keep my chin up, refusing to let him see the way my stomach is doing flips.

"I see." His eyes rake over the team before landing back on me. The intensity of his gaze feels like a physical weight. "I want you to discipline your members, Captain. Being cheerleaders for this university doesn't give you the right to be messy. Every single one of you has detention. Do you understand?"

My hands start to shake, but my pride flares up before the fear can take hold. I've had a long morning, and I'm tired of men trying to put me in my place.

"And who exactly are you," I snap, my voice low and sharp with irritation, "to be telling us what to do?"

He stops. He leans in just an inch, bringing the scent of expensive cologne and authority with him. He looks straight into my eyes, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

"I am Oliver Rivera. The new Dean of this university," he says.

The blood drains from my face. I feel a literal chill wash over me, turning my sweat into ice.

"I... I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't know-"

I start to stumble over my words, my confidence vanishing. He doesn't even wait for me to finish. He just turns on his heel and walks away, his stride composed and indifferent. He leaves me standing there, mouth slightly open, feeling like a fool.

Coach rushes over to me, her face a mask of shock and worry. She's saying something, but her voice is just white noise. My head is spinning. I'm already on the bad side of the man who holds my entire academic future in his hands.

I stare at the doors where he disappeared. First Damian, then Mr. Serrano, and now Oliver Rivera. It seems the list of men ready to make my life a living hell is only getting longer.

Cheska

This school year is a slow-motion car crash.

First, there was Damian and the heat of that bar. Then Mr. Serrano and the threat of my grades slipping through my fingers. Now the new dean looks like he was hand-picked from the deepest pits of hell just to ruin my life.

I walk through the hallway like a ghost. I don't even see the other students until I slam hard into something solid.

"Cheska!"

I look up to see Kai. She is grinning and clutching her binder to her chest. She has enough energy to power the entire building even though it is late afternoon.

"What's your next class? Who's the prof?" she asks.

I pull my phone out of my bag, squinting at the digital schedule. "Precalc. But the professor's name is blank."

Kai leans in to see the screen. "Oh, that's the new guy. Room 213, right?" I nod. She leans closer, her voice dropping to a gossipy whisper. "I heard from a friend in third period that he's a total breeze. He just hands out Sudoku puzzles and lets everyone chill on their AirPods. It is basically a free hour."

A wave of relief washes over me. "Thank god. I need one easy win today."

"Good luck, babe. I'm late for lit," Kai says, tapping my forehead with her knuckles before disappearing into the crowd.

I start toward the stairs, but someone grabs my arm. I spin around to find Kier. He has that cocky smirk on his face, the one that says he is always up to something. He throws a heavy arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side so hard I stumble. Before I can steady myself, he leans down and presses a firm kiss to my temple.

"Hey babe. Heading to class?" he asks.

"Yeah," I mutter, trying to ignore the prickle of annoyance at how tight he's holding me. "Actually, your stepdad gave me a ride this morning."

Kier scoffs as we head up the stairs. "Really? He was in a shit mood today. I don't know what his problem is, but he's been riding my ass since breakfast."

The bell rings, a sharp, metallic sound that echoes through the halls. We hurry into Room 213. Kier holds the door open for me, a move so uncharacteristically gentlemanly that I actually pause. Since when did he care about manners?

The room is quiet. Most students are already hunched over their phones. We take seats in the middle row, and Kier immediately turns around to start talking basketball with the guys behind us.

"Good afternoon, class. Sorry I'm a few minutes behind," a voice says.

My heart stops. I know that voice. I know the way it vibrates in the air.

No. No way.

"I'm Mr. Delmar. I'll be your Precalculus professor this year," Damian says. He is standing at the desk, calmly straightening a stack of papers.

He looks incredible in a crisp dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to reveal those forearms I remember all too well. I glance at Kier, but he's still laughing with his friends, completely oblivious. I dig my elbow into Kier's side. He doesn't move. I hit him harder, a sharp jab that finally makes him snap his head toward the front of the room.

"What?" he asks, annoyed.

I just point.

Kier's jaw drops. "What the fuck? No. Freaking. Way."

We both sit there, frozen. Damian looks up, his dark eyes scanning the room until they lock onto mine. The air in the room suddenly feels thin, like he's sucking all the oxygen out of it. His gaze shifts to Kier, sitting right next to me, and I see his expression harden for a split second. He clears his throat and looks back down at his desk.

The tension between them is thick enough to choke on.

"Let's start," Damian says, his voice professional but tight. "There is a packet of Sudoku puzzles in front of you. You have the hour. No rush."

The room fills with the sound of rustling paper. I try to catch Kier's eye, but he is staring at his stepdad with a look of pure disbelief.

"Babe," I whisper, nudging his paper. "Just do the puzzles. You can talk to him after."

"Tsk. Fine," Kier grumbles, his face darkening.

Twenty minutes go by in a blur of numbers and silent stares. Suddenly, Kier stands up. He grabs his paper and marches down to the front desk. I watch them from my seat, my pulse racing. I can't hear what they are saying, but Damian's face is a mask of cold stone. Kier is gesturing wildly, his voice a low, angry hiss.

Then, without warning, Kier turns and bolts out of the classroom.

The door slams shut behind him. Damian lets out a long, heavy sigh that seems to echo my own exhaustion. He sinks into his chair, looking like a man carrying the weight of the world.

"You have forty minutes left," Damian announces.

He doesn't look up from the papers he is grading. I try to focus on the grid of numbers in front of me, but I can feel his eyes. Every few seconds, it feels like a warm weight settles on my skin. I tell myself I am being vain. I tell myself I am imagining it. But the air in the room is getting thicker, making it hard to swallow.

The bell rings, sharp and sudden. Students scramble, shoving notebooks into bags and rushing for the door. I look down at my half-empty page and swear under my breath.

"Shit. I'm not done," I whisper.

I wait until the room clears before I walk up to his desk. My heart is thumping against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"Uhm, Mr. Delmar? Can I take this home? I didn't finish," I ask. I scratch the back of my neck, feeling small under the fluorescent lights.

He stands up slowly. He moves closer, invading my space just enough to make my pulse jump. A small, devastating smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry, Cheska. I can't let you do that," he says. He leans back against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms. The fabric of his shirt strains against his chest. "But you can stay here and finish it while I grade the others. If you want."

He gives me a little smirk that feels like a dare. My mind goes completely blank. Why does he have to look so good in a professional uniform? The sharp lines of his collar and the way he carries himself make my skin flush. For a split second, I am back at the bar, tasting him, feeling the heat of his tongue against mine.

I need to get it together. He is Kier's stepfather. He is my professor. This is wrong. But as I look at his lips, I realize I am a liar. I want to be in this room with him.

"Really? I can stay? Thank you, Sir. I really need to pass this year," I say, trying to sound normal. I take a seat at the front desk, right under his nose, and start working.

Half an hour crawls by. I have two pages left when the door swings open. My stomach drops. Mr. Rivera and Mr. Serrano walk in like they own the place.

The holy trinity of men who hate me is now in one room.

"Hey, Damian. How was the first day?" Rivera asks.

"Not bad," Damian replies. His voice is smooth, but I see his eyes flick toward me for a microsecond. "I'm keeping things light."

I keep my head down, pretending to be buried in Sudoku, but I can hear every word.

"Students these days are something else," Rivera starts, his voice dripping with annoyance. "I met a cheerleader backstage earlier. Mouthy. Hot-headed. No respect."

I grip my pen until my knuckles turn white. He is talking about me.

"Tell me about it," Serrano adds with a dry laugh. "I had a student last year who thought the only goal of my class was to beat a midnight deadline. Kids today are a mess."

I want to melt into the floor. I want to vanish into the shadows. Then, I hear Damian speak.

"Sounds like you both had a rough morning. What's the name? I'll keep an eye out."

Rivera and Serrano answer at the exact same time.

"Cheska Vega."

I close my eyes tight, covering my face with my hand. This cannot be happening.

"You mean that Cheska Vega?" Damian asks.

I can hear the grin in his voice. I look up, and he is pointing directly at me. Rivera and Serrano both freeze, looking away like they've been caught in a lie. I am burning up. I feel like I am on fire.

I scramble to my feet, grabbing my paper. "Thanks for the extra time, Mr. Delmar," I mutter. I drop the packet on his desk and practically run out of the room.

The humid air outside hits me like a physical blow, but I welcome it. Anything is better than the electric tension in that classroom. I pull out my phone, my fingers shaking as I text Kai.

I am never going back. I'm dropping out. Today was a funeral for my dignity.

I hide my face behind my folder as I walk toward the gate, feeling like the entire world is laughing at me. Congratulations, Cheska. It's only day one, and you've already been branded by every man on campus.

Cheska

Friday finally arrived. This week has been a slow, agonizing crawl, and I feel like I've aged a month in five days.

"Ms. Vega!"

I turn to find Mr. Serrano staring at me. He looks like he's been sucking on lemons all morning. "Did you read the book I assigned?"

Book? What book? I search my brain, but it's a total blank.

"Uh, no. I didn't know there was a reading assignment," I stammer.

The classroom goes dead silent. Every head turns in my direction. Kai slips in through the door right then, late as usual, but Serrano doesn't even blink in his direction. All his fire is aimed at me.

"Are you telling me," he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous level, "that you didn't pick up the copy of Noli Me Tángere from the library on Wednesday?"

I shake my head. "I didn't know we needed it yet. I thought we were focusing on the other text first." I pull the wrong book from my bag to show him, hoping it proves I at least tried.

"So you thought I'd let you off easy?" he asks, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"No, Sir. I just meant-"

"Enough. Grab a pass from my desk, go to the library, and get that book. If you walk back into this room without it, it's an automatic F."

He points a finger toward his desk. I scramble to pack my things, my face hot with a mix of shame and rage. Kai starts to stand up to follow me, but Serrano cuts him off before he can even get vertical.

"Mr. Valencia, where do you think you're going?"

"I was just going to help her, Sir," Kai says, looking caught.

"Since when are you her bodyguard?" Serrano snaps. "Do you think she's incapable of walking to the library alone?"

Kai rubs the back of his neck, looking down at his desk. I feel the sting of his embarrassment for him. It's a cheap shot.

"Sit down. She can handle it."

"Yes, Sir. Sorry," Kai mutters. He catches my eye and mouths a quick apology.

"Ms. Vega, are you waiting for an invitation?"

I grab the pass and bolt out of the room before I say something that gets me expelled. I intentionally slow my pace as I hit the hallway, my heels clicking against the linoleum. That man is obsessed with making me miserable.

When I reach the library, the air is still and smells of old paper. The librarian looks up from her computer. "Pass, please."

I slide it over. "I need a copy of Noli Me Tángere."

"Only one left. Back wall, right corner. Good luck," she says without looking up.

I spend ten minutes weaving through the tall shelves. I finally find it tucked away on the fifth shelf. Of course. It's way above my head. I go up on my tiptoes, stretching my fingers until they just graze the spine. I give it one more desperate reach, my balance shifting.

Then, my foot slips.

I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the hard impact of the floor. But instead of cold tile, I hit something warm and solid. Two strong arms wrap around my waist, steadying me.

I open my eyes and find myself staring at a stranger. He has dark brown hair and eyes so soft they look like silk. He looks like he walked off a runway in London.

He is, without a doubt, more stunning than Damian.

"Thanks," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. He helps me stand, but his hands linger on my waist for a second too long, sending a jolt of heat through my sweater.

"You almost had a nasty fall there," he says. His voice is deep and calm, but it's the accent that kills me. British. Crisp. Smooth.

"Yeah. Thanks again," I say, looking down to hide my blush. I notice a tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. Since when were those allowed on campus?

"Be careful next time, love," he says, his lips pulling into a smirk as he hands me the book.

Love. My brain short-circuits. Before I can ask his name or if he's a transfer student, the bell rings, signaling the end of the period.

"Anyway, I'll go now. Catch you later," he says, turning on his heel.

I stand there like a statue, clutching the book to my chest. I stay frozen for a few seconds before I shake myself out of it. I walk back to the librarian to check out the book, my head spinning.

"Do you know who that was? The guy who just left?" I ask.

She frowns, thinking. "The tall one? No idea. Never seen him before. But he had a visitor pass on his jacket."

A visitor. Great. The best-looking man I've ever seen, and he doesn't even go here.

I realize I'm late for the next transition, so I take my time walking back to Serrano's room. If I'm already in trouble, there's no point in rushing.

When I walk back in, Serrano is already at the board. He doesn't even let me sit down. "Why are you always late, Ms. Vega?"

I sigh, leaning against the doorframe. "Only one copy left, Sir. It took a while to find."

"You always have an excuse."

I feel the heat rising in my neck. I'm about to snap back, but he waves me off. "Just go to your next class. You're late for that, too."

"Yes, Sir," I say, biting my tongue so hard it tastes like iron.

I walk out and slam the door a little harder than necessary. "Asshole," I mutter to the empty hallway.

But as I walk away, I'm not thinking about Serrano. I'm thinking about the way those arms felt around my waist and the sound of that British accent calling me love.

...

By the time my last class ended, my soul felt like it had been put through a paper shredder. I was hollow. All I wanted was to crawl into bed and let the world disappear.

But the universe wasn't done with me yet.

"Cheska!"

I turned to see Miss Reina, my art teacher, waving me over. I dragged my feet toward her.

"Mr. Delmar wants to see you. He's waiting in the teachers' office."

My heart did a traitorous little flip. I remembered the last time we were alone. I remembered the heat of his gaze and that smirk that made my blood boil. Maybe he missed me. Maybe he couldn't stop thinking about the way I tasted at the bar.

"Okay," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the flutter in my chest.

I walked into the office, expecting a private moment, but the air turned to lead the second I stepped inside. Damian was there, but so was Mr. Serrano.

Great. As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"Sir? You asked for me?" I asked, my voice tight with irritation.

Damian nodded. He looked professional, cold, and utterly distant. "Yes. We need to discuss your recent assignments."

He slid a paper across the desk. I looked down at the red marks scarring the page. "You have too many errors, Cheska. If this keeps up, you're going to fail my class before the first month is over."

I felt the heat crawl up my neck. My cheeks burned with a shame so sharp it felt like a physical sting.

"And my concern," Mr. Serrano cut in, sliding an essay toward me, "is that this isn't getting better. This is your second time taking my class, and you're on track to fail again."

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. I didn't know whether to scream or cry. I bit my lip hard, trying to keep the sob trapped in my throat, but a shaky breath escaped me anyway.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I tried to blink back the tears, but they were already blurring my vision. "I didn't realize it was this bad."

"We're worried about you, Cheska," Damian said. His voice was softer now, almost gentle, which somehow made it hurt more. "That's why I called you here."

The door opened behind me. I turned around and froze.

It was him. The guy from the library. The one with the British accent and the arms that felt like a sanctuary.

"This is Mr. Velasco," Mr. Serrano announced. "We've brought him in to be your tutor."

My brain short-circuited. "Tutor? You assigned a tutor for me?"

They both nodded, their faces grim and serious.

Something inside me snapped. I didn't cry. Instead, I started to laugh. It was a jagged, hysterical sound that echoed off the office walls. I dropped the failing papers onto the desk and shook my head, my eyes bright with a mix of fury and disbelief.

"No thanks," I said, my voice dripping with ice. I had tried tutors before. None of them could fix what was wrong with me.

"I don't need a tutor. It doesn't work for me. I'll study on my own. Thanks for the offer."

"Cheska, we're doing this to help you. We want you to-" Damian started, but I cut him off.

"No! You're doing this because you pity me," I snapped.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Rivera walk past the window and enter the office. Now all four of them were here. The Dean, the Professor, the Teacher, and the Tutor. It felt like a goddamn ambush.