Page 4 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares (The Society #1)

I couldn’t imagine that it would be considered appropriate to be alone with a student while shirtless. Then again, there was a student in here without his pants on, so maybe they did things differently at Renfrew.

“Oh,” he looked down at his bare chest and cleared his throat. “Yes, excuse me.”

I waved my hand, indicating that he should do what he needed to do.

When he grabbed his shirt off the floor, I remained silent. There was no need to draw attention to his obvious embarrassment or the condom lying next to it. Who just tossed a condom on the floor? There was a garbage can right there.

The dean went about getting dressed, and I considered turning around. The proper thing to do would be to give him his privacy, but I was so far past proper at this point. That, and I wasn’t sure if I trusted him enough to turn my back.

Thankfully, he dipped his head and avoided eye contact while buttoning up his shirt. Staring at each other would’ve made the awkward situation even more uncomfortable, if that were even possible.

“This must seem strange to you?”

Strange wasn’t the word I would use. “It’s none of my business.”

And what was more, I didn’t want to know. I didn’t care why those guys were here, and I certainly didn’t want to know why one of them had his stuff on full display. Who, by the way, walked out of here without covering himself up. Modesty wasn’t important to some people, I guess.

“It was nothing nefarious, if that’s what you’re thinking?”

Not sure why he felt the need to clarify that? “Okay.”

“Those boys were in here to uh… switch their schedules.”

What? Renfrew College was an Ivy League school with top-tier educators, and that was the best explanation he could come up with? Suddenly, the state school I transferred from didn’t seem so bad.

When I walked in on one of my professors making out with his TA, he said it wasn’t what I thought it was. I respected that more than Dean Richards said.

I could’ve come up with a better lie, and I was a horrible liar. I busted myself all the time when I was a kid. My mom would call me down and I’d immediately blurt out, “I didn’t eat the cookies.’

“Things got a?—”

I cut him off, “I honestly don’t need to know.”

“All I’m saying…” Dean Richards held up his hands, “is you shouldn’t take anything those boys say seriously.”

The only time someone said something like that was when I should take someone seriously. Was the dean doing something to the one without bottoms? Did he force him into something, and were the others protecting him? It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened at a college.

Positions of authority had a way of bringing out the worst in people. Three of my former professors offered me a chance for ‘extra credit’ two weeks into the semester. One of whom got forceful about it. That was when the self-defence classes I took with Mom paid off.

“They are liars.”

That was an ironic statement coming from him. Did he not hear the excuse he came up with?

Tipping my head, I searched Dean Richards' expression.

Shame hid behind his fake smile. It was a common emotion to see in victims. The guys who walked out of here didn’t display any guilt at all. Perhaps I was looking at the real victim right now? He did ask me for help.

No, Georgia, don’t get involved.

“Listen, I don’t care why those guys were here, or what you may or may not have been doing with them?—”

His chest puffed out. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

That was a tad defensive.

“Again, I don’t care what they were doing here.” I clarified for him as much as for myself. “But I would like to get settled.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Your dorm is on the west side of campus, Craven Hall.”

Finally. “Thank You.”

We stood there for a minute, staring at each other before he arched a brow. “Was there something else?”

“My schedule?” I kind of needed that.

“Right, I have it right here.”

He walked over to rummage through his desk, while I looked around.

Fitting in wasn’t something I did well. Growing up, I was the strange girl collecting rocks, and in high school, I was the one who chose to stay in and study instead of having fun. I was used to being on my own, but here it was different. It wasn’t that I didn’t fit in. I felt out of place.

Luxury surrounded me—paved and clean walkways bordered by perfect landscaping.

Even the atmosphere was out of my league.

I could smell opulence in the mahogany walls and crown molding circling the ceiling.

The small apartment Mom and I lived in wouldn’t be worth a tenth of the furniture in this one room alone.

The fine details I saw blew my mind. Ivy climbed the brick exterior of the buildings. Busts, carvings, and paintings decorated the halls, and when I walked into this building, the floor had a large setting of the school logo artfully tiled in. A dove in flight with a sprig of ivy in its beak.

All the extravagance didn’t make me angry or jealous—Mom and I did fine with what we had—but I wasn’t used to it.

The most expensive thing I owned was a now coffee-stained silk shirt.

Renfrew was a school that obviously catered to the wealthy.

I was prepared for that coming here, t least I thought I was.

Experiencing it was another thing altogether.

It was like being the only kid in school to bring a bagged lunch. Your food wasn’t worse than theirs—in fact, it might be better—but it made you stand out. And not in a good way.

I couldn’t help but wonder why Renfrew would give a scholarship to a geology major? That wasn’t a career that earned a lot of money. A law student, a med student, or an athlete—that I could understand.

I wasn’t going to argue about the education, but it did seem unusual, especially for a school that wasn’t known to focus on the sciences. Maybe they wanted to change that?

“Here’s your schedule and key card for the dorm.” Dean Richards walked over and held out some papers, which I took and smiled.

“Thanks.” Turning to leave, I paused to look back at him, “Craven Hall is…”

I figured it was better to check with him than risk asking someone else who may want to amuse themselves at my expense.

“Out the main doors, turn left, and walk to the end of campus. You can’t miss it.”

You can’t miss it. That statement had an entirely new meaning for me now. Two out of the three guys who gave me directions said the exact same thing.

Fortunately, that wasn’t the case this time. My dorm was indeed where the dean had said it would be. Although I did start to have doubts at one point.

This campus was huge. It took over thirty minutes to walk to Craven Hall, which was in the western back corner, with what I assumed to be other dormitories, fraternities, and sorority houses.

This area was pretty. Like a little neighborhood all by itself, with street lights and road signs. Not like any neighborhood I’d seen, mind you. The places I lived had dirty back alleys, garbage cans, and smog.

Here, there were majestic oak trees, colorful gardens around each building, and the air was so fresh that all I wanted to do was stand there and suck it in.

As I headed down a walkway lined with blue irises, I rolled my eyes up the brick building. I could faintly hear soft music coming from a few of the open windows, and quiet talking coming from others.

For the first time in my life, it felt like I was among my peers. Everyone was here for the same reason. We all wanted to learn.

This was it. I was finally home.

My bad mood instantly vanished. How could anyone be angry in a place like this? This was the place where fairy tales were made. I should’ve known then that something was wrong. Most fairy tales were based off of nightmares.