Loving Grayson ✓ (Book 2, the Hating Series)

32

Grayson

Earlier that day...

"Mr Scott, please, come in." The Dean greeted me.

I had gotten an email from the Dean informing me that she would like to talk with me, about what, I had no clue. I could hazard a guess and say that she would like to talk to me about my grades, which, of course weren't that good.

Okay, I was failing.

Athletics have always been my thing, not Academics. I couldn't do algebra to save my life.

"Do you know why I asked you here?" She queried as she took her seat.

I huffed as I took a seat of my own. "Did I win a prize?"

She wasn't amused by my joke.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"You know, I am amazing." I said with not-so-subtle sarcasm.

"I've noticed you've missed a lot of lectures, and now I see that you appear to have been in some kind of altercation?" She noted my appearance.

I still had a black eye that was taking forever to fade. And then there was my split lip, along with cuts on my cheek, nose and forehead.

Those fuckers got me good.

"I had an unfortunate run in with a few morons." I almost winced at the memory.

"I know college can be harsh, but there's a lot of help that can be offered. If you need tutoring or there's an on-site counsellor if you need to talk about stuff."

Oh, so I'm dumb and crazy?

"I don't need any of that." I say.

I honestly didn't even want to be here. In college, I mean, though the Dean's office is no picnic, either.

"Grayson, I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable, but I would insist that you either get your grades up or perhaps think about pulling your tuition."

"Fine. Consider my tuition pulled." I rose from the seat and started towards the door.

"Mr Scott!" The Dean called out, but I was already walking down the hall.

When I get back to my dorm room, I lie down in my bed and stare up at the ceiling in thought.

I didn't know what I wanted to do.

No.

That's a lie.

I knew what I wanted to do.

I've known it for awhile now.

I didn't want to be here, and I most certainly didn't want to endure another four or more years of schoolwork just to get a crappy, unimportant job anyways.

I don't even know why I came to college.

Tsk, another lie.

I knew why I came to college.

I came for Dallas, so that I could be closer to him, because, like an idiot, I thought that we would have a blast.

That we would be this perfect adult couple, but then everything went quite literally to shit, again.

Perhaps Dallas had the right idea in the beginning.

Maybe everything that has happened are signs that we just shouldn't be together.

I'm done. I thought before forcing myself up so that I could start packing my shit.

I guess it was time for me to head back home and maybe get a job.