“YOU KNOW, ENDING up in the dean’s office before my first day of classes have even started doesn’t bode well for my future here,” I said, picking at the frayed hem of my jeans, the casual denim a direct contrast to the opulent armchair I lounged in. Everything about the office screamed extravagance, from the designer wallpaper and vintage giltwood frames to the executive desk flecked with actual gold leaf.
I felt like I should be wearing a starched school uniform, for fuck’s sake.
Dean Hawthorne sat perched on the edge of the desk, immaculately dressed in a high-waisted pencil skirt and jacket, her auburn hair neatly pinned back off her face. Being the youngest dean in Astor University history meant she needed not only to dress the part to be taken seriously, but present a professional yet tough demeanor as well.
From personal experience, I knew she had the required stern frown down pat. Although at the moment a soft smile played on her lips.
“It’s not a crime to want to make sure my only son is settling in okay,” she said. “Especially since he wanted to move out and leave his poor mom all alone in a big house.”
“First of all, you’re not alone; Dad’s there. And second, do you really think starting college still living in my parents’ house is a good move? Especially when one of those parents runs Astor?” I shook my head. “I’d be a total pariah.”
“I’d never let that happen, JT.”
“Exactly, which is why you need to give me some space. It’ll be hard enough to make friends without them thinking I’m going to run back to my mom.”
“Letting you move into a dorm isn’t giving you enough space?” A hurt look crossed her face.
“Letting me move into a dorm that you hand-picked.”
“What’s wrong with that? I thought you’d like the space.”
“Mom, how many first-year students get their own private dorm room? Not to mention the biggest?”
“So you’d rather be in a dorm the size of a storage room?”
“Depends. Do those come with armed lobby security and a curfew on the weekdays too?”
“It’s for your own safety.”
“Seriously? A ten o’clock curfew is going to keep me safe?”
A groan of exasperation left her throat. “JT, please don’t start that again—”
“But what if I want to see a late movie? Or the train breaks down and I don’t get back in time? I get punished for that?”
“You can go on the weekend.”
“What if there’s a special showing of Fight Club that’s only playing on a Tuesday? And Edward Norton is making a special appearance?”
She stared me down like she was wondering if we really needed to have this conversation for the tenth time. “You’re here to focus on your studies, not breaking curfew. End of discussion.”
A heavy silence descended as I bit my tongue in an effort not to argue the point more. I’d expected more freedom in my college experience, but I should’ve known better. I’d never really considered going anywhere other than Astor, but maybe that had been my mistake.
When it was clear I wasn’t going to be the first to speak, Mom cleared her throat.
“Do you…” She paused, considering her words. “Would you rather switch to a freshman dorm? There aren’t any private rooms, so you’ll have to share with a roommate or two, but—”
“No, it’s not that,” I said, running a hand over my hair. “I appreciate your getting me my own room, really I do. I just don’t want any special treatment. It’s gonna be hard enough fitting in with these people.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how it is with these one percenters. They come from old money and get off competing with each other to be at the top. My getting special treatment is like throwing me in shark-infested waters with a cut. They’ll smell blood.”
She crossed her arms. “So what am I supposed to do, then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe trust me to venture into the water cautiously?”
Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated my words, and really, she had no reason to doubt me. I was a good kid. I excelled in school, got top grades, and always made sure to keep out of trouble.
“Okay, you’re right.” She got to her feet and walked over to the large window in her office overlooking the main quad. “I just worry about you, that’s all. This place does tend to attract a certain crowd, and I want to make sure you’re prepared.”
It was no secret that Astor University was one of the top schools in the country. Just like it was no secret that it had produced several presidents, some of the top CEOs, and other influential men and women in government and business.
I hadn’t been exaggerating when I likened the place to shark-infested waters, because that’s exactly what it was, and if you weren’t careful you would enter that water as bait. I didn’t plan to be eaten on my first day.
I got to my feet and headed over to Mom. I knew she was worried about me—any parent with a child going off to college was. But she also needed to remember that I was her son. She’d taught me to be smart, curious, and brave, and now she had to trust that I could handle myself.
“I know you’re worried, but whether I’m here or somewhere else, you have to trust that I can make smart decisions.”
She glanced at me, her perfectly shaped brow raised. “Smart decisions, huh?”
“Yeah.” I bumped into her shoulder, trying to get a smile from her. “I’m not some delinquent. You know that. I’m going to go to class, study, then come back to my dorm and sleep. What’s the worst that could happen?”
She eyed me for a beat, then reached over to tuck one of my unruly curls behind my ear. “I don’t like to think about worst-case scenarios. So let’s just focus on the positive—that even though you aren’t living at home, I’ll still get to see you around campus.”
“Exactly.”
Though her lips were pursed, she seemed satisfied for the moment, and I wondered how comfortable I should get with these office visits. I loved my parents, but I’d been itching for the taste of freedom I’d finally gotten when I moved into the dorm a few days ago. Today was the first day of the rest of my life.
A deep sigh left her as she glanced out the window, and I followed her gaze to a group of guys walking past the main gate.
“Speaking of delinquents,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing.
I frowned, wondering if we were looking at the same people. The seven guys she had her eye on certainly didn’t look like the kind who’d cause trouble. In fact, the most problematic thing about them was how damn attractive they were.
They were a mix of preppy and flashy, with the exception of one guy dressed all in black like he’d just come off the back of a motorcycle.
“Are we looking at the same people?” I asked.
“Don’t let the nice clothes fool you. Trouble comes in all forms. Aren’t you the one who just said these one percenters smell blood? You don’t think they do anything about it?” She quirked a brow my way.
I glanced down again, studying each guy more closely. They really did look like they’d all just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. I mean, what twenty-something actually wore an ascot to school, for God’s sake?
“I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.” I looked down at my frayed jeans. “I hardly fit in with that crowd.”
“Good, because those kinds of men are interested in one thing and one thing only—themselves.”
I didn’t doubt that for a second, but up until now, I’d never really run across this kind of crowd. Everyone knew about the rich and upper-class society of New York, but unless you were part of that clique, you didn’t have anything to do with them.
Here, however, it was a little different, and while money could definitely pave the way into Astor, so could brains, which meant this group of guys had to share classrooms and hallways with the likes of me.
Not saying we were poor or anything, but I didn’t hail from some Fortune family with enough money to buy a private island.
My eyes drifted over the group again, as I wondered what their families did for a living.
Bankers, maybe? Investors? Oil tycoon? A celebrity?
It had to be something pretty impressive to look and dress like that. I wasn’t the only one curious, either. Everyone who passed them by would wave, smile, or sneak a glance at the seven guys who looked as though they belonged in some glitzy, high-end bar, instead of standing in the middle of the quad waiting for their first class to start.
It was fascinating to watch. The way people reacted to them. Like they were royalty, and everyone else were mere commoners. But that was what money did. It gave people power, confidence, a sense of entitlement that was born out of always having what you wanted, or having the means to get it—traits that these guys exuded in spades.
The guy in the pretentious ascot threw his head back and started to laugh at something one of the others had said to him, then he gestured up to the window where I stood beside my mom.
I wasn’t sure why, but my first instinct was to duck and hide as the rest of the group turned to look in the same direction. But knowing how ridiculous that would look, I stood my ground and continued to stare down at them.
It wasn’t a secret the dean’s kid was enrolled this year, and it wasn’t like I could keep it a secret for the next four, so it was best to just go with it. If these guys were going to give me shit for it, then my hiding from view wasn’t going to help the issue.
Ascot Guy leaned into his friend with the tawny, windswept waves pushed back from his forehead, and like the rest of this group, he was dressed to impress in a pair of grey pants and fitted white polo—and in his hand was a tan jacket that matched his leather loafers.
He looked like he was on some European vacation, not attending his first day of university, and the outfit looked like it cost more than my entire wardrobe.
His blue eyes sought me out and locked on me, and as Ascot whispered in his ear, I swore I caught Tawny’s lips crook to one side.
Something about that exchange had my spine stiffening. Call it intuition or call it paranoia, but I knew they were talking about me. I could feel it in my bones.
As quickly as the connection formed, it was severed. Tawny turned back to his group of friends, and they all laughed again.
My mom placed her hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and I tried not let her show how their attention had affected me. Her apologetic smile told me I wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Just steer clear of them and you should be fine.”
As she headed back to her desk, I took one last look down to the quad, and all I could hear in my head were my mom’s words from minutes ago: Trouble comes in all forms.
