Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“Is there a Harper Martin in this class?” the woman asks.
I swallow thickly and raise my hand like a small child. At the movement, her eyes clash with mine.
“Hello, Miss Martin, I need you to please come with me.” I nod and stand on shaky legs, shoving my stuff into my bag. A knot of worry tightens in my gut. Did something happen to my parents? I don’t know who this woman is or why she’s asking me to leave, but something tells me it’s not good. Tossing my backpack over my shoulder, I walk down the aisle, listening to all the whispers as I walk by.
When I reach the woman, I look over my shoulder at Easton, who’s looking at me with the same expression I’m wearing. Confusion. The lady opens the door and ushers me out into the hall, following closely behind me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“We will talk about it once we reach the admissions building.” Even though I have a thousand and one questions, I keep my lips closed and follow her to the building. What could possibly be going on?
When we finally reach her office, I take a seat in the chair in front of her long wooden desk. A metal plaque is sitting on the smooth surface, reading Mrs. Jensen, financial aid. Only then does it occur to me that this may have to do with my scholarship.
Taking the seat opposite me, she crosses her hands in front of her and looks me straight in the eyes, disappointment reflecting back at me.
“Do you have any idea why I have called you into my office?”
I shake my head because I’m smart enough not to question until I have all the answers.
She nods her head, “Blackthorn was recently made aware by a concerned patron that you’re not living in the dorms but are receiving payments for housing through the school. If you don’t live on campus and are receiving payments specifically for that expense, you are committing fraud.”
My mouth pops open and closes and then opens again. This is worse than I thought, so much worse.
“Effective immediately, you will no longer receive housing payment, and furthermore, we need you to repay that money as soon as possible. If you fail to repay the money, we will be forced to pull your scholarship.”
Shock, rage, dread, and sadness all engulf me at once. Through the fog of emotions surrounding me, one name pops into my head. Warren. He did this. He threatened me time and time again, and now he finally did it, and all over what? Me waving at Easton?
“I don’t have that kind of money. I’m using the money to rent a cheaper place off-campus and the rest of the money to pay for food and books. Surely, there is something that we can do to fix this?” I reply desperately, pinning Mrs. Jensen with a pleading stare.
Apparently, she’s not impressed by my admission, either that or she simply doesn’t care.
“The way to fix this would’ve been to have been staying in the dorms all along. I’ve already discussed this with the other school board members, and they’ve decided that you can either pay the payments back, or you can forfeit your scholarship. Might I add, that you’re lucky to be given a chance out of this and that the school is not pressing charges for fraud.”
Tears sting my eyes… he got what he wanted. He got rid of me. I was so stupid to think that Warren and I were moving past whatever it was that was eating him.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to pay back the money, and I don’t know how to live on campus. I would have no money for books or food or anything else for that matter.”
“Look, the only thing I can do for you is set up a payment plan for the housing money you owe. It’s only for one semester. It’s not that much.”
Not to you, maybe. Unsure what to tell her, I just stare at my hands in my lap.
“I’ll tell you what,” she continues, “how about I give you until tomorrow to figure it out?”
“Okay,” I agree, knowing damn well that there is nothing to figure out. I pretty much just lost my scholarship. Lost everything I worked hard for. “Thanks,” I mumble, before getting up and heading out of her office.
As soon as I’m out the door, the tears start to fall. With blurry vision, I start walking away from the building and off the campus. There’s no reason for me to go back to class. No reason for me to study or think about tests and homework. The only two things I need to worry about now is where the hell I’m going to live and how the hell I’m going to pay for it.