Kings of Linwood Academy - The Complete Box Set: A Dark High School Romance Series Callie Rose (i read a book TXT) 📖

I pass Savannah in the hallway as I head to my next class. Trent is leaning against a bank of lockers, and she’s leaning against him, her back to his front and his arms around her waist. His gaze lands on me and slides away immediately, but her blue-green eyes narrow as they track my movement.

“Don’t you just hate pop quizzes?” she asks loudly, turning her head to direct the question toward Trent, even though I’m sure it’s meant for me. He chuckles but looks a little uncomfortable.

My footsteps freeze, and I turn toward her, my hands already curling into fists. We haven’t spoken since our altercation in the girls’ bathroom, and I really thought she knew better than to keep fucking with me.

She snorts a laugh, although I notice she sinks deeper into Trent’s embrace, probably hoping to use him as a shield if it comes to that. “Don’t worry, Pool Girl. Nobody messed with your quiz. You can fail that class all on your own.”

Her falsely sweet smile makes me want to knock her fucking teeth out.

But I don’t.

I force my fists to unclench, then turn and walk away, pressing my lips together as her lilting laugh follows me down the corridor.

Focus on what’s important, Low. Focus.

What’s important is finding something real to tie Mr. Black to Iris’s murder.

What’s important is keeping out of trouble at school so Mom has one less thing to worry about.

Punching Savannah in the face would be satisfying as fuck… but it’s not important.

Calculus goes by in a blur, and by the time I make it to my eighth period History class, I’m so ready for this day to be done. I barely got to talk to the guys at lunch, and I want to find out if Linc has any ideas of where to dig for clues about his dad. I’ve snooped around the house a bit, but he’s got to have access to stuff I don’t.

I take notes as best I can with half my brain already focused elsewhere, and as soon as class ends, I gather up my bag and head for the door.

“Ms. Thomas. Hold on a minute, please.”

Our teacher, Mr. Heller, is an older man who always looks like he’s counting down the days until retirement, and when he says those words, there’s a flatness to his voice that makes my stomach drop.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Praying fervently that this is about something stupid and mundane, I hesitate by the doorway, turning to look back at him. When he grabs a small packet of papers from a stack on his desk, I blink at it like he just picked up a live snake. I know exactly what that is. It’s the test we took a week ago.

“I’ll be handing these back tomorrow, but I noticed some… discrepancies with yours. I need you to come with me to Mr. Osterhaut’s office.”

The air seems to go out of the room.

Shit.

Shit.

That’s what Savannah’s falsely sweet taunt was about. She was fucking with me. She didn’t sabotage my Business and Econ quiz—she picked a new class.

And that makes me look guilty as hell.

I can’t get my mouth to open, can’t form words to answer Mr. Heller, but he doesn’t wait for me to respond, stepping forward with my graded test in his hands and gesturing me toward the door. He leads me down the steps to the admin wing, and my legs feel numb as I follow him.

How many times can I fucking do this? I already begged the principal for a second and third chance. He won’t give me another, I know it.

Mr. Osterhaut looks up as we enter, his face pinching when he registers who it is. And I’m positive in that moment he already knows what this is about, and he’s already determined I’m guilty.

I don’t know what to say. Last time, I started blurting out declarations of innocence as soon as I sat down, but it hardly helped my case. And I don’t know how to convince him I didn’t fucking do this.

Mr. Heller hands over my test—one of the biggest we had all semester—to the principal, explaining how my exam was clearly doctored.

Mr. Osterhaut glances over the papers, shakes his head, then sets the packet down and interlaces his fingers. His expression settles into a mixture of frustration and resignation. “Harlow, I thought when you promised not to cheat again, you understood that applied to all of your classes, not just Business and Economics. To say I’m disappointed is an understatement.”

Jesus, no. This can’t be fucking happening.

“I’ve given you allowances and second chances—more than are usually granted in these types of situations, because I know you’ve been going through a lot.” He leans forward, his expression softening somewhat, like he’s going to try to convince me this is all for my own good. “But when people who act out continually get away with bad behavior, it sets an unacceptable precedent for me, for the school, and for them. I simply cannot allow it.”

“So, what?” My voice is harsh, thick with angry tears that haven’t fallen yet. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that effective immediately, you are expelled from Linwood Academy, Ms. Thomas.”

The words hit me like a punch to the solar plexus, and the tears I’ve been holding back pour out of my eyes. I hate crying in front of people—I’ve never been the type to use tears to get out of traffic tickets or make people feel sorry for me. But I can’t keep them contained right now.

I don’t say anything, hardly make a single noise as the world blurs in front of me. When I glance over at Mr. Heller, he looks awkward and uncomfortable, like he really wishes he didn’t have to be here for this part.

Mr. Osterhaut’s face is carefully blank, as if he doesn’t want to be accused later of being either too cruel or too kind.

“You may collect your things from your locker. We’ll notify your mother in writing.”

My mom.