Wicked Love - Michelle Dare Page 0,8

and the sooner the better. My parents would simply have to deal with the decision I made.

Not my idea of getting back in the saddle. Yeah, I'm back in The Big Apple as planned, but with a few revisions to that plan. First off, Mom is here with me, and we're staying at the condo on Park Avenue. I'm driven to and from my classes, and my mother is hovering. Yes, you heard me, hovering as only Darcy Matthews can.

But you see, part of the thing in getting my way is by making compromises and concessions. Mom has to see for herself that I will be safe. Besides that, once the semester starts in a few weeks, I'll be back in the dorm and Mom understands that parents aren't permitted to cohabitate with their offspring there. Dorm rules. Although she's mentioned more than once she would be perfectly happy to stay on with me at the condo for as long as needed.

Explaining to her that she's not needed is, well, awkward. I don't ever want to hurt her feelings, but when I mention how it's not fair for her to spend all this time in New York and ignore Weston, I think it did the trick. I pointed out that he was going all the way across the country. It made more sense for her to help my brother and Peyton get settled since I was moving into the dorm.

That seems to have done the trick. The week before classes were due to start, Mom helped me move my stuff, including the fall, winter, and spring wardrobe she lavished on me into my dorm room.

"Well," she says looking around, "It looks like you're all set, honey."

"And then some, Mom," I tease. "I really appreciate your going out on a limb to get me a corner room the way you did." My back is to her, shoving more clothes into the closet, so she misses the eye roll that accompanies my statement.

"Well really, honey, you needed more room, and the corner rooms give you that. I'm just glad you're in a different dorm than last semester. I want you to have a fresh start."

"I know, Mom. But nothing happened to me in the dorm."

"That you recall," she points out. "You can't be too careful with so much unknown at this point."

"I understand, Mom. I don't want you worrying about me, please? I promise to keep safe."

She bites her lower lip as if contemplating to give it one more shot in convincing to go home with her, so I take the opportunity to cross the room and put my arms around her. "Thank you for making me the strong, independent woman I've become, Mom. I couldn't have gotten through this without your and Daddy's support."

Anndd . . . that should do it.

"Oh Carson," she sobs, "I am so very proud of you. I know you'll stay safe. I have every bit of faith in that, or I wouldn't leave you here."

"I know, Mom," I reply, giving her a kiss. "And I promise I'll call you more regularly than before."

"Promise?" she prods.

"Pinky promise," I reply.

7

Blast from the past

At last I'm back on campus and on my own.

My classes this semester have new professors. The only one who's a repeat is Dr. Armentrout, the Department Chair for the School of Journalism. I'm standing outside the door to his office at the moment, feeling nervous about my meeting with him.

I'm not sure why, except that he knows about my accident. That's what I'm calling it now.

I enter the door to his outer office where his assistant is at her desk, taking a phone call. Her nameplate reads Diane Forester; she waves for me to take a seat. I sit down next to her desk while she fills in a While You Were Out' message form.

"Yes, Dean Warrington. I'll make sure Dan gets the message. He's in a meeting right now, but should be free within the next hour or so."

She looks over at me, rolling her eyes. Apparently, Diane thinks taking phone messages is beneath her pay grade. I can't believe she calls Professor Armentrout by his given name. She looks to be in her early thirties. She has some raging red hair going on, which cannot be her natural color. She probably thinks Dr. Armentrout is an old fuddy-duddy at fifty-something.

I had him last semester in Communications and was eager to make sure I got into his Investigative Journalism class. He said he liked