Chapter 13
Limond University. Dean’s Office, School of Arts.
The cops had already carted off the troublemakers, leaving Briar and her crew standing awkwardly in the dean’s office.
The heads of the Acting and Art Departments, along with their advisors, crowded the room, sizing up the situation.
Dean Calvin Monroe, a fifty–something guy with a bald spot and a beer belly that screamed “I sit at a desk all day,” rubbed his forehead, staring at the freshmen girls like they were his personal nightmare.
“Alright, you’re all newbies, right?” he said. “College students now. Act like it. You’re supposed to have your shit together, not start brawls. Pretty girls like you how do you even end up in this mess?
“You know what happens when you drag in off–campus punks One slip–up, and you’re in a police station, kissing your scholarships goodbye. So. spill–who called those goons!”
Calvin’s lecture droned on like a bad Tiktok. Iman’s eyes were already tearing up, her lip wobbling like she was about to confess, but Briar swooped in like a reality TV star stealing the spotlight.
“Mr. Monroe,” Briar said, all confidence, Iman’s the one who got those thugs to jump me
Every head whipped to Briar, their looks screaming, “Girl, how do you say that without flinching?”
“No way!” Imani’s tears spilled, her voice cracking like she was in a soap opera. “Mr. Monroe, that’s bullshit! Briar’s the one who hit me!”
Briar didn’t blink. “Sir, this went down right outside the Art dorms. They called those guys.
Imani’s eyes nearly popped out “You’re lying, Briart You’ve been messing with me since day one. Mr. Monroe, don’t buy her crap!”
Calvin, rocking that middle–aged, balding–boss vibe, squinted at Imanis red, puffy face. “What’s with her face?”
Imani, looking like she’d just filmed a crying scene, was the only nor with visible damage: “Heiar slapped me!” she wailed, going full drama queen.
Calvin shot Briar a look, eyebrow raised “You did that?”
Briar nodded, dead serious. “They ganged up on me. Dean, I was just defending myself.
Calvin snorted “Self–defense? Her face looks like it went ten rounds with a boxer.
Imani’s cheeks had bright red handprints–not exactly I was just protecting myself” territory
The Acting Department head, Anthony Bradford, jumped in “Mr. Monroe, Inani’s our star. Top of the acting program, aced her exams, straight–A kid. She’s not starting fights,”
Briar raised an eyebrow, cool as ice. “No offense. Prot, but do I look like a scrapper? You didn’t see shit–how can you just flip the story?”
Anthony’s face went red as a stoplight. You calling me a liar?”
“Yup, that’s the vibe
“You–1” Anthony’s voice turned cold as ice. “You smack Imani around and then play innocent Mr. Monroe, we gotta deal with this kid!”
The Art Department head, Randall Pittman, wasn’t having it “Pump the brakes, Mr. Bradford. We don’t even know what happened. You throwing shade already!”
“Shade?” Anthony snapped “Imani’s beat up, Shen! Your girls look sketchy as hell. You can’t just cover for them because they’re yours!”
Briar jumped in. I’m the one with internal injuries, Dean. I want a hospital visit to check for damage and keep evidence to sue Imani–and ber buddy. Right, Rheal”
Rhea, poker–faced, played along, rubbing her temple like she was nursing a migraine. “Yeah, my head’s spinning”
Thana finally snapped. “Briar, you’re shameless! Those guys didn’t even touch your
“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe you because you brought them?
“Enough!” Calvin slammed his desk, glaring like a pissed–off dad. “You’re all standing here, squawking like you’re on a reality show.
1/3
1:29 PM c
Chapter 13
I want a 2,000–word apology essay from each of you. You’ll read ‘em at the
“Nobody’s dying, so here’s the deal: you’re off the hook this time. But I want a 2. freshman assembly tomorrow. Now get outta here!”
If word got out that Limond University students were throwing punches with off–campus punks, the school was gonna take a major hit to its rep
The culprits? All freshmen, all girls. Best het was to let it slide and move on.
“Mr. Monroe.” Iman started, but Briar’s icy glare shut her up quick.
She was freaking out that Briar might spill the dim on Jack’s will if this blew
wup.
The group trudged out of the dean’s office.
Briar lagged behind, smirking as she fell in step with Imani. “Feeling better, Imani?” she teased.
“What’s your problem!” Imani’s voice shook, her face pale, eyes screaming panic.
Briar was her personal nightmare, and she had no clue how to make her disappear.
Briar chuckled darkly. “Don’t forget, you owe me seventy–one slaps.”
Imani stumbled, nearly eating pavement.
Anthony spun around, glaring at Briar. “Whard you do now?”
He believed Briar was total bad news. All mouthy and smug–what a trainwreck he thought
Briar flashed a sweet–as pie grin. “Nothing! Imani apologized, I let it go. Done”
Everyone stared. Rhea and Tiana were floored by Briar’s stone–cold lying skills.
Randall waved it off. “Enough drama. Get to your dorms and write those apology letters:
You got it!” Briar chirped, all smiles.
Back at the dorm, Mae and Jolene were pacing, stressed out. Seeing Briar and Rhea walk in unscathed, they exhaled hard.
“Dude, you had me freaking out!” Mar said. “Heard some sketchy outsiders hit campus. Glad you’re okay.”
Rhea smirked. “Yeah, well, someone else took the hit,”
Briar could throw punches, sling insults, and play innocent like a pro.
- o. She was bo
was born for
or the stage
Total waste the skipped the theater department.
“Whoa” Mac and folene’s jaws dropped.
Rhea leaned in. “Briar, real talk–what’s your deal! What were you doing before this?”
Briar blinked, all doe–eyed. “Oh, you know…. school abroad. Rough crowd, bad scene.”
The Strueze Region International Mercenary Training Base counted as a school. kindar she thought,
Rhea just stared, dumbfounded. What kind of place churns out a Briar?
“Whatever,” Rhea groaned. “Let’s bang out these stupid apology letters. Two thousand words, and we gotta read ‘em at the freshman assembly
tomorrow
Mae’s eyes bugged out. “No way! Apology letters? In front of everyone? We’re in college, not detention. What’s this nonsense?”
“No clue,” Rhea muttered, pissed
Two thousand words? She wished they’d hit harder.
Jolene chimed in. “Oh, me and Mae grabbed your boot camp uniforms. They’re on your desks,”
Thanks, Jolene. Thanks, Mae,” Rhea said with a
