Greenridge Academy

Chapter fifteen

  Lachlan huffs out a breath of air, causing his messy strands of hair to dance in front of his face before storming out of the room. No one gets up to stop him, why would they? He's a rich daddy's boy who has this entire school — community wrapped around his finger. I'm surprised they're even bothering to get him into trouble at all. "Mr. Andrews, can we speak about my recommendation letter, please?" I ask while standing from the chair. He gives me a hard nod before motioning toward the hall. I follow behind him leaving Mr. Fitzgerald alone in his office. "I want to start by saying how sor–" I begin my begging but he interupts. " Miss Stratton." His voice is stern, definitely his teacher's voice. I immediately stop talking, letting him take all of my attention. He looks around the enchanted hall before continuing. "I expected better from you. Obviously I don't think you knew those photo's would be there... but I'm disappointed that you didn't check. Didn't triple check that they were the correct pieces before unveiling them in front of the entire community." I know he's not done berating me; yet I can't help but interrupt. "Sir, with all due respect... you only gave me a few weeks to pull this together." My voice comes out quiet but firm, so I continue. "Not to mention, you sprung ten pieces of student art on me the morning of the event! I understand I should have checked before showing over two hundred people the supposed art. I understand my mistake, and take full credibility for that." "Excuse me! You said you could handle it, that's the only reason I allowed you to take over for me." He looks me up and down. "I should have known not to trust a child with the event, and that's where I take the credit." "Sir..." My voice is shaking with unshed tears, I've never felt so childish. "I spent hours — weeks on this event making sure everything was perfect. The only reason I didn't check the pieces was because of the note they left asking me not to. I wanted to respect their wishes. I take the blame for that, but everything else was exceptional. I don't feel it's fair to fault me for something I had no control over — sir." I finished. He clears his throat letting his head hang low for a few minutes. "Olivia — I'm sure that if you knew what was under those sheets you wouldn't have pulled them off for everyone to see. I understand that, but the case is still the same. It happened; now the majority of our benefactors want to reestablish some of our agreements based on the new credibility of the school. They don't think their money is being used in the ways they thought they were if a prank like this could happen." He pauses and all the air has been sucked out of me. A prank? A fucking prank? I clear my throat, "Sir, with all due respect – again. This wasn't a prank." I use air quotations around the word prank. When he realizes what he said all of his features fall, and he begins blubbering. "I was taken advantage of, in front of a hundred or more of my peers. When that wasn't enough for them... they showcased their evidence in front of an entire event full of people, my friends, my – my parents." I pause to collect myself. "So no, that wasn't just some silly little prank. Quite honestly if you see it that way, I don't think I want you to write my recommendation letter. Sorry for bothering you. Just forget about the entire thing." I finish before walking away leaving him muttering behind me.
  I walk through the empty halls thinking about my life here, before I changed how I looked and dressed no one saw me. No one bothered me... I was on schedule for my future, but I was sad. I was sad about who I was — who I was trying to be. Hiding in plain sight is something I will never do to myself again. This isn't my fault. I can't blame myself for coming back out of my shell. A shell I was forced into to begin with... that's not who I am anymore, and I refuse to be threatened into it — by anyone. All of this is because of Miles, and what he did. A shiver runs throughout my body at the thought. Someone needs to humble him, though I cannot tell anyone the truth of what happened that night... maybe I can give clues. I make my way out to the parking lot, pulling my phone out to call dad when something catches my eye. It's my car... but how? Lachlan is leaning on his car, parked a few spaces over from mine. His long legs are crossed and he's looking down at his phone with his brow furrowed. My stomach begins turning at the sight of him. I'm not sure if it's because of how he held me last night — kissed me today, what he witnessed last night, or talking about the things he's done to me with two males of authority. "Hey" I almost whisper, but his head snaps toward me. "How did you get my car here?" I question. "I uh– I had one of my drivers bring it here." He says slowly while looking anywhere but at me. Is he — nervous? Because of me? No, of course he isn't, he's Lachlan Richards. Someone who's been with hundreds if not thousands of girls. He clears his throat, bringing my attention back to him. "I'm sorry for messing with you so much because of the party thing." He says awkwardly. I'm sure he's not used to apologizing to anyone, so I know he isn't telling me this with no thought. "I won't fuck with you anymore. I'll have Miles chill out too... we'll leave you alone. I promise." He finishes sticking his hands in his pockets. He's wearing the same sweatpants and black shirt he was wearing earlier. His blonde hair is still a mess going whichever way the wind blew it. Without thinking it through I speak, "You should ask him." His eyes lower and his shoulders raise with question. "About the night of your party, he knows more than he's telling you." He nods his head excessively. I take a few steps until I'm right in front of him, reaching my hand out to grab his. I hear him take a sharp breath in and hold it. His entire body tenses, and I drop my hand before it can make contact. "I have to go." His voice rushes out. Before I can give any response he's opening his car door. "I'll message you about getting together for the project. We're almost out of time." His voice is short, before he climbs in and drives away.
  I messaged my dad letting him know that a friend brought my car here, so he didn't have to pick me up.  I pull up a text thread and begin typing.