Damaged Beyond Repair by Kashmira Kamat (KittyKash) (ebook reader below 3000 .txt) 📖

A warm soothing bath later, I was convinced the red zebra crossing finger marks were going to be my latest tattoo of the week. It all became worthless after several rounds of applying cold cream and a dab of powder. The red marks still looked angry. In fact they looked worse. I pulled on a full- sleeved baby blue flannel shirt over jeans. My fingers itched to pull the sleeves right up.  It wasn't like me to wear something like a shirt on a bright sunny day. Chez nor Nina were in near view which only meant I had a lucky card in my pocket. I brisk walked towards the university grounds and inside the gate, it took great willpower to ignore the sting eye I got all the way inside the building. The basketball team who normally wouldn't have given shit if Angelina Jolie had decided to walk from right under their noses, turned to give me dirty looks. Two of them even called me a Ho-bag.

I was wondering if they were body snatched by UFOs until I entered the building, where I was being treated in a similar fashion. Scratch that. I'd say even worse.

Beth and her gang of bitches (who found a unique pleasure in bullying those who were on weaker grounds), blocked my path and stood their ground like large Rottweiler dogs.

"I am getting late for my class, would you please excuse me?" I asked.

They didn't budge.

"I knew you were a whore the day you decided to show your ugly face in this university, but I had no idea you'd stoop so low just for a few brownie points from the professor." Her mouth curled into a sneer, she turned to one of her minions, "We all know what kind of score Mr. Masters is, don't we girls? But whatever did she do, to get laid in his bed?"

Beth did not get an opportunity to get an answer to her question since I'd struck across her face. Hard.

"You fucking say whatever bullshit you want about me, but you talk about him—and I'll make sure you don't see the next morning light. Get it?"

"Is anyone else in desperate need of a tattoo on the face?" They stood in silence, "Good. Now, get the fuck out of my way."

Tears clouded my vision as I walked slowly towards my class, when I saw the word 'slut' scribbled on my desk, I'd wiped it clean with my shirt sleeve—picking my bag again I took off. Chez walked into me on my way to nowhere.

"What happened?" he asked me.

"I can't talk right now." I continued walking, wiping those stupid tears.

He followed my step, "tell me it's not the truth. Has he been harassing you?"

I pulled out my thumb, pointing in the general direction of the student body. "Them, yes. Him? No."

I started to walk again but he tugged on my sleeve, his eyes mirrored genuine concern for me, "I am going to take your word for it, but there has to be a proper reason for everybody to be bull shitting about you. I need to know what it is. If not now, then later. There's no smoke without fire."

I simply nodded, because yes, the guilt was killing me to bits. I walked further on, and collected an assignment I needed from the staff room. How had our relationship led us here? As far as I knew there was no body other than Rowan's sister who knew about us, and she did not go to university which left me to no one. There was a possibility it was all the result of my childish nature. I should never have gone to his house at late hours or forced him to pick me up at places which fell in the 'risky category'. It was a miracle some people offered to share an apologetic smile; I would have loved to clap for their show of bravado. The tough girl act I'd put up started to fall apart when I noticed Rowan walk towards me.

We stared at each other for about five seconds, when he pulled me into his arms. "I am sorry. It's my entire fault."

His arms were so large, that I was completely lost in his embrace. I inhaled his sweet cologne. Maybe it was the last time I did it. The last time I held him. "I have to go see the Dean and so do you. Those are direct orders from him."

Rowan let go first, my lip quickened. For the first time in my life, I was scared. "What's going to happen to us?"

"Sit." He sat me on the bench, oblivious to the holes being drilled into us. Rowan pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to me, "drink up."

I took the bottle with shaky hands, downed gallons of water, "stop crying first." He lowered his body to my level, so our knees were touching and our eyes were leveled. He laced his warm fingers with mine, "do you think I am going to let anything bad happen to you?"

I shook my head.

"Look at me."

I glanced up. His firm grip was giving me a lot of strength, and as much as I wanted to stay in his arms, I wanted to ask him whether this was 'The End' to our relationship. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me as your teacher?"

I just nodded.

"The dean will question you about our relationship, and you're only going to speak the truth, is that understood?" I nodded again, "make eye contact while answering."

"Yes sir."

"Now, listen to what I am saying, really carefully, I want you to say exactly what I tell you to." There was something in those piercing brown eyes that was bothering me—his voice was painfully calm, before he could say further, a man in tailored suit interrupted our conversation.

It was Mr. Grayson, the Dean's secretary, "Ms. Hayes, you're requested to see the Dean, Urgently."

"Yeah I hear the urgency." He ignored the sarcasm and turned to lead me to the principles cabin.

Just before leaving, I heard Rowan whisper close to my ear, "my brave girl."

With that I was fuelled with an energy which was even better than Pokari sweat.

****

The University Dean was a big middle aged guy, probably an ex-army man—who appeared to be busy typing away on his laptop looking like a gorilla playing with a little toy. An Ak-47 was a much better suited asset to his style. I almost peed my pants the first time I'd met him, but once you started talking to him you'd know that he was more of a 'in-your-face' kind of man