I requested that my father drop me off a few blocks back, but as always, he insisted. Worried about me walking a whole parking lot’s length in the dark. Which could be looked at as simply a father’s concern—if I didn’t know better. He wants me seen. Wants the other students to know I’m not like them; I’m above them. “If it bothers you so badly, then you shouldn’t have sent me to this school,” I say, searching through my clutch, avoiding his stare. I dig out my room key and grip it tightly before reaching for the handle. “Markus will get the door, Arian.” He snaps his fingers and our driver hustles out. Then my father is looking at me. I can feel his glare raking over me like ice cubes tumbling down a ladder. “We’ve already discussed why here,” he adds. “But I expect while you are in attendance, you do not find yourself in another less than desirable position.” He sighs, as if it’s all too challenging to deal with me.
