Perrie Lancaster has zero plans after college. No dream job she's working toward, no one to impress, and no care for anything other than making her last two years of college one big party.
Levi Saints wants nothing more than to follow his dream of t...
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The double doors open with a flourish as I pull them, walking into the administration building. The wind blows my hair. I strut. This is the moment in the movie where your girl gets shit done.
"Hi Carol," I gush, "Did you get your hair done, looks fabulous, you don't look a day over forty."
Carol, the administrator, gives me a murderous smile. "I'm thirty-eight, Miss Lancaster."
Strong start. Well done, Perrie.
Giving her a sheepish smile I tilt my head. "That one's on me." I was going to kill Jonah later. "I was wondering if I could talk to the dean?"
She stares at me. "Do you have an appointment?" I shake my head. "You just...want to walk in there and talk to the university's dean?" I nod, keeping a practiced smile on my face. Carol looks uncomfortable. She slowly picks up her office phone. "Honestly Miss Lancaster, I distinctly remember Dean Pathers mentioning that he didn't want to see you back in his office after freshmen year's incident."
I slam my hand on the reception desk. "For the thousandth time, I did not steal those chickens from the agriculture building. I was framed!" I argue vehemently. Fifteen chickens go missing and suddenly everyone is pointing fingers at you. Ridiculous. Heads turn our way. Awkwardly, I clear my throat and clasp my hands together. "And this isn't about anything bad, I just want to have an adult conversation."
Carol's eyebrows furrow in suspicion.
I rush to clarify. "About the school's social media."
Her eyebrows pop up in surprise. "Oh. Okay, let me see if he's available." With the office phone in hand, she dials his office. Which is ten feet away. It's so close, I can hear the phone ringing on his end.
And I can clearly see his silhouette reach for the phone through the frosted glass. "Miss Peregrine Lancaster would like a word with you regarding—no, no, not that. She wants to talk about our school's social media pages." I cringe at the use of my full name while she hums and mhms for a few seconds but I can't hear what he's saying.
After a minute of silence, she puts the phone down and gestures to the office. I smile in thanks and shuffle towards the door.
Dean Richard Pathers sits in his unnecessarily massive desk chair. His elbows lean on the armrests of his ridiculous chair and his hands are clasped together. "You required an audience, Miss Lancaster?"
I steel my face into a calm and collected expression as I take a seat. Releasing a light breath, I say, "The school's athletic social media sucks ass."
A heavy beat of silence passes between us.
He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head as if he heard wrong. "I beg your pardon, Miss Lancaster?"
I cross one leg over the other. "Your pardon has been begged and my statement stands." His lips thin expertly before he can yell at me. Sitting back in his seat, he gestures with a wave to continue. "Our school's most popular social media account has thirty-three followers and most of those followers—" After intense investigating, "—are parents of students and not actual students themselves."
