Cat had no idea where the dean had taken Max before he came back into the nightmarish room to retrieve her. He’d dragged Max out of there naked, literally by the hair, and she’d just gone along like it was any normal Wednesday.

The dean had subsequently directed August back to his temporary living space - which he did without a moment of hesitation. He wouldn’t even make eye contact with Max or Cat as he leapt off the chair and fled out the door they had come in through. Cat wondered if she would ever see him again.

And then Cat waited. And waited. A digital clock high up on the wall ticked off minute after agonizing minute. By minute 10, Cat wondered if she’d somehow been forgotten and left behind. By minute 20, she was certain this was somehow a punishment for coming down here in the first place. By minute 30, she was resigned to sleep in the same chair that August had been given his incredibly awkward and humiliating blow job. By her best friend!! By minute 40, she had started to cry.

45 minutes into her wait, the dean stepped back through the door. Alone. Her tears immediately stopped and she froze in place where she stood. Clearly, no one was safe with this man - alone OR in a group - but she was particularly terrified of what he specifically might do to her. Alone. In this room. She’d have nightmares about this room for the rest of the semester. Maybe the rest of her life.

“Come along, Catherine,” he said, not unkindly, extending his hand in her direction. She didn’t take his hand, but she did take a step towards him. Then followed him out the door and into the hall.

“Can I go back home?” Cat asked quietly as they began their walk down the hall. Cat couldn’t remember the direction from which they had come amidst the somersaults her mind was currently performing, but she was fairly certain on the way in they had been passing doors numbered in the early 30’s. They were about to step through a doorway labeled BLOCK 40.

“How did you get down to Mr. Rogers private isolation quarters?” The dean asked. Oh god. He wasn’t about to take her into a tunnel room for an examination…was he?! She froze midstep.

The dean got as far ahead to the next set of doors ahead of her before he realized she wasn’t a step behind him. He turned back in Cat’s direction.

“Catherine, the tunnels are strictly off limits unless a scholar is either granted permission or her presence is required for a class or private instruction. I have granted you no such permission and you are most certainly not enrolled in any class or private instruction that would see you down in these corridors. So I ask again, how did you get to Mr. Rogers private isolation quarters?”

She remained frozen and mute.

“I can safely assume that you did not fall down a ravine this time,” he said in a sardonic, mocking tone, eyeing her from head to toe.

She couldn’t incriminate Max - she couldn’t!! She thought back to what Max had told him before she’d disappeared with the dean.

“Private invitation, sir,” she said quietly, nervously.

The dean laughed and shook his head, “Yeah, I don’t think so, Catherine.”

How could he know? It was the president’s son - surely he had special privileges. Surely he could have extended a special invitation for visitors? Then again…

“You’ll be in Room 46 for the night,” the dean said, stopping in front of a door with a giant 46 painted in blue.

“Sir?” Cat asked. Holy shit, she did NOT want an examination tonight!! “Can’t I just go back to my own room?”

“Your room is currently being searched for keys and contraband. You will be in Room 46 for the night,” the dean opened the door and shoved Cat through the doorway.

The door shut behind her and she breathed a sigh of relief that the dean hadn’t followed her inside.