Page 118 of Depraved Boys

“I’ll do it,” I said.

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“If Ashley can’t maintain her grades, I won’t obligate myself to compensate for her.”

Miss Claymore gave me a soft nod. “A wise choice.”

Her words removed a layer of tension that had plagued me since I had agreed to maintain a higher average to enable Ashley’s entrance into the academy.

If she couldn’t make an effort to maintain her grades and stabbed me in the back at every opportunity, I no longer wanted to take on the effort of keeping her around.

“By the way, can I leave the swimming team?” I asked.

The deputy head nodded. “I am also willing to tutor you in English and Economics until your grades exceed ninety percent.”

A breath caught in the back of my throat. That was incredibly generous of Miss Claymore. “Umm… Why would you go so far to help me, Miss?”

“A promising scholarship student also struggled to maintain her grades after being bullied and humiliated. I failed her, and she committed suicide.”

I gulped. She was talking about Corrine Gibbons.

The older woman’s dark eyes twinkled. “I also wish to nurture your wonderful potential.”

Warmth spread through my chest. Despite everything that had happened, she still believed in me.

“Report here in your free period at the end of the week.”

“Yes, Miss,” I said, still brimming with joy. “Thank you, Miss.”

Miss Claymore’s phone beeped, and the older woman stared at her screen. “Mrs. Benazir wants me to inform you that one of the parents wishes to meet you on Monday morning.”

Anxiety twisted through my stomach. “Mrs. Brunswick?”

“Mr. Byrd,” she replied.

“Bianca’s father?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

For the rest of the week, I couldn’t focus on anything. Not on prep. Not on my missing memories. Not even on the three gorgeous guys who occupied half my time. Cormac and the kings thought I was still suffering residual effects from the ‘accident,’ but they were wrong.

The thought of meeting Bianca’s father made my stomach churn. It didn’t matter that Mrs. Benazir would sit in the room with us. If the man was anything like his daughter, he would be vicious and wouldn’t care that Bianca had committed a crime.

Late one evening after finishing my prep in my room, I texted Uncle Trevor to ask how he was doing. I would feel better with someone at my side for the meeting with Mr. Byrd and wanted to know if he was free.

He texted back to say that Aunt Hortense had returned to hospital needing a blood transfusion from complications surrounding the cesarian.

With a sigh, I wished Aunt Hortense a speedy recovery, set down the phone, and rested my head in my hands. There was no way I could pull Uncle Trevor away from an already stressful family life to deal with my crap. He had done enough for me, and I couldn’t add to his troubles.

A knock on the door broke me out of my thoughts.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,” said Cormac.

“Come in.”

He stepped inside and let the door click shut behind him. “What’s up with you?”