He strides around the desk to take his own seat. The sun sends a wide band of light in through his office window, and it bounces white, blue, and gold off the silver nameplate that sits crooked on the front edge of his mahogany desk. He pulls up a file on his computer and starts to scroll through it while we wait. His hair is shorn close to his temples and graying, but the color looks premature. Like working with thousands of students has aged him exponentially. Probably has. I’m probably one of them.

Beside me, Alice sits ramrod straight and still, but my knee bounces in anticipation. I’d been mentally composing my Don’t Kick Us Out speech since the elevator ride up to the second floor of the SASB. I’m not going back to Bentonville. Especially not after what I saw last night.

The dean opens his mouth to speak, but I’m faster. “Mr. McKinnon—”

“Dr. McKinnon, Ms. Matthews.” His voice is so stern I temporarily forget my rehearsed speech. He steeples his fingers. “Or Dean McKinnon. I have earned my titles.” Alice shifts uncomfortably in her chair, and her lips press into a thin line.

“Yes, of course.” I hear my voice slide into the tone and accent that matches the dean’s. “Dean McKinnon. First of all, I’d like you to know that it was my idea to go off campus last night, not Alice’s—”

Dean McKinnon’s blue eyes flash between us, and he smoothly cuts me off again. “Did you handcuff Ms. Chen to you, thus forcing her to follow you?”

I exchange a glance with Alice. She tilts her head as if to say, Shut up, Bree! “No.”

“Good.” He clicks into another file, and my transcript and student ID appear on the screen. He scrolls without looking up. “Because we aren’t in the business of educating students who can’t think on their own. While Ms. Chen’s academic records are stellar—practically perfect, in fact—if she is indeed so passive as to follow someone into her own expulsion, I’d have doubts about her being here in the first place.”

Alice inhales sharply. I could kick this man.

Dean McKinnon leans back in his chair and releases a long sigh. “You’re exceptional students or else you wouldn’t be one of the thirty high school participants admitted to the Early College Program. It’s common for students your age, upon experiencing unsupervised residential life, to make mistakes. Fortunately, the Durham County Sheriff’s office has graced you both with a warning rather than a citation. Likewise, I don’t intend to expel you. Consider this your first and only strike.”

Oh, thank God. We both release a breath.