A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime (Lancaster Prep )(13)

“What the fuck, Fig?”

We both glance toward the door to find Maggie standing there, her mouth hanging open, her pale face suffused with red. Her narrowed gaze finds mine, and she glares, her expression full of hatred.

“Maggie.” His voice is steady as he rises to his feet. “Calm down. It’s not what you think.”

Maggie snorts, entering the faculty room as if she’s been in here a million times before. “Oh sure. More like it’s exactly what I think. This is how it starts, right, Fig? All sweet and kind and caring to that one student. Making her feel special. You ask her to be your TA, bring her in like the innocent lamb to slaughter, right before you go in for the kill.”

I leap out of my seat, eager to make my escape. “I need to go—”

“No, stay. Though I’m sure what I have to say will blister your virgin ears, you deserve to hear it. To know what this man does.” Her smile is brittle, her eyes shiny, as if she might cry at any second. “Because for once in his damn life, he’s going down. How many years have you worked at Lancaster? And how many girls have you fucked? I’m sure the list is endless.”

I flinch at her using that word, my gaze sliding to Mr. Figueroa’s, but he’s not even paying attention to me.

He’s too focused on Maggie, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, though he’s trying to keep a calm exterior. “Watch your mouth, Maggie.”

“Oh yeah, I need to protect the untried ears of the biggest virgin on campus, right, Figgy? I’m sure you’re just dying to get in her pants. There’s probably a lock on that vagina, but with your persuasive ways, she’ll end up handing you the key. No problem.” Maggie marches farther into the room, until she’s standing directly in front of Fig, and I can tell he wants to touch her. Grab her.

Hurt her even?

I’m not sure.

And I don’t know why I have to be a witness to this any longer.

“I-I’ll leave you two alone so you can talk privately.” I head for the door, Maggie no longer paying attention to me.

Fig isn’t watching me either as I exit the room. They’re too wrapped up in each other.

Like lovers.





SIX





WREN





I make my way back to my private room, grateful for the reprieve. Though I don’t have long to bask in the silence because my phone starts ringing, startling me.

Dad flashes across the screen and I realize with a sinking feeling that I never did call him after he sent that text.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy. The day got away from me,” is how I answer.

His chuckle is rich and warm, making me smile despite how agitated I still am over that confrontation between Fig and Maggie. And me, I guess. I’ve never been involved in something like that before in my life, and it was disconcerting. “I’ve heard from the head of the Art History Department at Columbia.”

My heart flies up and sinks, all at the same time. “Oh.”

“Don’t you want to know what he had to say?”

I already know. He’s dying to have me attend. Thanks to my father calling in a favor. “What did he say?” I keep my voice light and bubbly, exactly how he wants me. His sweet and happy daughter, who would do anything for her daddy. He feels the exact same way.

When it suits him.

“They want you, darling. You’re in,” he says, bursting with pride.

“Oh. That’s so great,” I say, my voice weak. I settle into the chair at my desk, staring out the nearby window that overlooks the campus. There are a few students milling about, though I can’t make out who’s who. They all look the same, since they’re still mostly in uniform.

“You don’t sound happy, Pumpkin.” I can hear the disappointment in his voice. “I thought Columbia is where you wanted to go the most.”

I never said that. I just always agreed with him when he went on and on about how great the college is and that they have a solid art program. Not that I want to be an artist—more like I want to study art. Someday, I would love to work in a gallery or museum. Maybe even have my own art gallery, where I could discover up and coming artists and support them.

That’s my dream, and my parents know it. They also encourage it, though I don’t think they believe I could do anything on my own. I’m sure they’re just indulging me. Daddy’s motives are not for me, but for himself.

Columbia University is too close. New York City means no escape because that’s where my family lives. Where I grew up.

I want something different. Far away.

It’ll never happen if my father has anything to say about it.

“I’m thrilled. Really.” I infuse my voice with excitement, hoping he can detect it. “Thank you so much for talking to him. I can’t wait to see where else I get in.”

“Does any other college matter? I thought Columbia was end game.”

I’m not about to list the colleges where I applied, the ones I really want to go to. He’ll call them up and get me in, or he’ll flat out tell me I can’t go to some of the locations. I can’t risk it.

“It’s smart to have options, Daddy.”

“You’re right. Options are always good to have. A backup plan.” I can envision him nodding his agreement.