I sat in the Dean’s office, arms crossed, and legs stretched out in front of me, doing my best to look bored while two campus security guards stood on either side like I was some kind of criminal. The office smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne, and the dark wood shelves behind the Dean’s desk were packed with books and awards, all perfectly aligned like the rest of his uptight life.

 

The Dean himself sat behind his oversized mahogany desk, phone pressed to his ear, trying to keep his voice low enough that I couldn’t make out the words. I didn’t have to hear him to know he was talking to my mother.

 

I rolled my eyes, already imagining Summer Hurst’s reaction. She was probably pacing, cussing under her breath, and telling him in no uncertain terms how her daughter would never start a fight. Or maybe she’d flip it around and ask why they weren’t dragging the other person’s ass in here, too. Either way, I knew one thing—Mom was not going to take this quietly.

 

After what felt like an eternity of listening to the Dean’s mumbled explanations, he finally hung up the phone and fixed me with a look somewhere between annoyance and resignation. I arched a brow, waiting for the lecture I knew was coming.

 

“Well,” he started, shuffling some papers on his desk like it would somehow make this whole situation neater. “Your mother is out of town and says she’ll handle it.”

 

Of course, mom was at a wrestling event in Sacramento, some kind of meet and greet.  Mom could never say "no" to the spotlight.  She could no doubt wrestle, but "performing" in the ring was her specialty.

 

I couldn’t help but grin though, a sly smile spreading across my face. I knew exactly what the dean meant. Mom was about to call Dad. Honestly, having Dad come up here would be better than dealing with Mom’s temper flying off the handle. She’d end up making this way worse for everyone involved, but Dad... he’d smooth it over and probably make it look like it was the school’s fault I was even involved. I leaned back in the chair, the tension in my shoulders easing up just a bit. Dad could handle this.

 

 

The Dean didn’t look as relieved as I felt. He just stared at me like he couldn’t decide whether to keep me here or just shove me out the door. I guess I didn’t really care either way. All I knew was that dad was coming, and that meant this was as good as handled.

 

I can hear footsteps approaching, I slowly turn my head to the right and notice the shadow stretching across the wall in front of the dean’s door. I don’t have to turn completely to know it’s dad. I can feel the weight of his presence even before I meet his eyes.

 

His voice was faint, but I could make out what he was saying.  I sat quietly, smiling on the inside.

 

"Kami, I got one question for you, and you better be straight with me," Dad’s voice is calm but sharp, cutting through the tension. "Did she start this?"

 

I saw Kami, from the corner of my eye, pull out her phone from her pocket and turn it in dad’s direction.

 

Dad doesn’t flinch.  He just stares at it and turns it back to Kami.

 

"Good. Now, could you please send that to my phone?" He was direct but calm in his tone.

 

I assume Kami tapped away; I could hear the familiar ping of his phone. Dad flashed her smile, one that’s more relieving than anything else.

 

 "You wait here, Kami. When I’m done, I’ll take you both out for breakfast." Dad said as his footsteps draw near.

 

He doesn’t give me a second glance as he comes toward the office, entering without knocking, just like he always does when he’s determined. I stay where I am, my nerves buzzing in silence. He’s got this, I remind myself.

 

Dad steps in, his eyes catching mine. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, a reassurance I didn’t realize I needed. I want to smile back, but there’s so much pressure building up inside me, I can’t manage it.

 

He turns to the dean, his voice laced with an edge that makes the room feel smaller. "So, my wife called and said that our daughter is in some kind of trouble here?"

 

The dean leans forward, holding a phone in his hand. He presses play, and the video starts—my video, with me kicking the boy and standing on his neck. I cringe as the scene plays out, but I don’t look away. I don’t need to, not with dad in the room.

 

The dean stops the video, grinning like he’s found some kind of victory in it. But dad is not done. He pulls out his phone, tapping the screen with a small smile that sends a chill down my spine.

 

"So, you just want to show the highlights, huh?" His voice is steady, but I can feel the heat in his words. "Let’s look at the whole thing, shall we?"

 

He plays the entire video, the scene unfolding again. I’m proud of myself for standing my ground, for fighting back when I had no choice. But seeing it on the screen, knowing how it looked to everyone else, makes my stomach turn.  I don’t recognize who I am anymore.

 

Dad moves toward me, and his presence fills the space between us, and I feel like “home” once again.

 

"So, you’re just going to try and make it seem like she’s the problem?" He pauses, his gaze sharp. "Where’s the piece of trash that grabbed her? It looks like she was just defending herself."

 

Dad’s voice cracks like a whip, and I feel my shoulders loosen for the first time since I walked in. There’s a sense of relief in his words; in the way he always stands up for me.

 

He walks back toward the dean’s desk, his movements deliberate. Without warning, he shoves the desk forward, trapping the dean in between it and the wall.

 

"If you ever, and I mean ever, try to do this again," his voice cold with fury, "I won’t be so nice. You try and get my daughter in trouble for protecting herself? That’s bullshit, and it won’t happen again. If it does, it won’t be me you’re dealing with, it’ll be her mother, and trust me, you don’t want that."

 

And boy was dad right.  Dean Miller would not want that at all.

 

The air was thick with tension, and my heart pounds in my chest, I watched dad tower over the dean. But then dad’s attention shifts back to me. His eyes soften, the intensity fading as he walks over to where I sit.

 

"Come on, baby girl," he says, his tone full of warmth. "I’m taking you and Kami out for breakfast."

 

I feel the weight of everything melt away, just a little, as I stand up. With one last glance at the dean, I follow dad out of the office, Kami right behind me.