like the moment of impact before a collision. I can see it. I can’t stop it. My hands grip the upholstered arms of my chair, and I feel the old wood creak in protest. I can’t do anything but wait for him to tell me.
“After discussing the matter with counsel, a few of the other Deans, and some of the Alumni—”
I bark a laugh, imagining all these busy, important men lowering themselves to talk to me, and there’s one person at the center of each group. “Like Angus MacLaine, perhaps?”
When I mention the name MacLaine, both the Dean and the lawyer share the briefest of looks. Then Cheswyk clears his throat, his shoulders squaring like a man walking out to face the firing squad.
“—the final decision rested with me,” the Dean explains.
“And you didn’t think you needed to speak with me before deciding?” Why am I fighting this? What’s the point? Adair. She’s the point. This is where Adair is, and this is how I find a way to give her the life she deserves. I can’t give up.
“Mr. Ford,” the lawyer begins, “your lack of truthfulness negated the need to speak with you. In other words, how can we believe the excuses you would no doubt provide us, when you have already shown yourself to be a liar?”
“That’s enough,” says the Dean, giving Welles a sharp look. “Very well, young man, what have you to say for yourself?”
“That depends on whether or not you really have decided everything,” I say, and I immediately want to kick myself. My life is hanging by a thread and I can’t keep from sawing at it?
“You have my word I will take anything you say under advisement,” the Dean says, giving me a kind nod.
I wonder how many students have sat in this seat, having a similar version of this conversation. I wonder what Francie will say. I wonder whether I’m about to lose everything. I wonder what Adair will do when I tell her.
“I think this is Angus MacLaine’s doing. He doesn’t like that I’m seeing his daughter.” I slow down for a second, noticing how agitated the lawyer becomes, but that the Dean is listening intently. “But we’re both adults making our own decisions. He’s the one who dug up my sealed records. He told me as much himself. And I didn’t mention them in my application because I was told the records were sealed for my protection—so that the stuff that happened to me when I was a kid wouldn’t ruin the rest of my life. And, honestly, I feel stupid for believing in a system that I know from experience fails all the time.”
“I understand, son,” Dean Cheswyk begins, and I can already tell by his tone that he is unmoved. “But your speculation about how this all came to light doesn’t matter. Do you deny that both before and after you came to Valmont you got into fights? That you broke the law by drinking while underage?”
My silence answers his question.
“We spoke to your R.A. at your dorm,” Dean Cheswyk continues. “He likes you, so he refused to say he saw alcohol in your room. Your roommate, too. But we found multiple other students who did not feel a duty to cover for you. Still, I respect that you didn’t deny what I already know to be true.”
“Lots of students here drink even though they are underage. Are you going to expel all of them, or just me?”
“Young man, I am not going to expel you from the University, but there have to be consequences to your actions. Along with your welfare, I have to consider the good name of the University and what we want it to represent to the world,” the Dean says, the corners of his mouth pinched. “Because you misrepresented yourself on your application, and because of all the other behavior we have mentioned—which you have wisely refused to deny—you will lose your scholarship.”
“What? You can’t do that.” I leap to my feet, and both the Dean and Welles flinch in their seats.
“You’ll find that I can.”
“I can’t afford to go to school here without the scholarship. You’ve been looking at my files, you know that.” They might as well kick me out. Francie and I chose Valmont precisely because both of us together hadn’t even been able to get pre-approval for the large student loans required for a school like this. The scholarship made the impossible possible. Without it…
The Dean turns to Welles,