“How’s it going, Jennings?” she asked.
“Could be better,” I mumbled.
I was upset, but not really at Coach Carmen. She was just doing her job and I couldn’t fault her for that. I was an athlete and easily replaceable. This was her livelihood.
We waited for ten minutes before they called Carmen in. She rubbed my shoulder before going inside.
My heart was clanging against my ribcage, my mouth dry, and palms slick as I waited. I kept checking my phone for the time.
I wanted to text Cane and let him know that I may or may not have been losing my scholarship in less than an hour, but I would have had to tell him why and I didn’t want him to blame himself. I wanted to talk to him…just not about this. Not yet. He had enough on his plate as it was, plus I could have been jumping to conclusions.
Thirty minutes passed before the door pushed open and Coach Carmen walked back out.
The look in her eyes as she focused on me, told it all.
“I hope I convinced them enough to let you stay,” she said, and then she walked off.
A minute later, my name was called.
Chapter Thirty-Five
KANDY
The board meeting room was huge—probably too big for only five people to occupy.
A row of tables with leather rolling chairs behind them, were across from me, and there were two men and a woman occupying some of those chairs. They had folders in front of them and were murmuring amongst themselves as a man escorted me inside, asked for my cellphone, and then told me to sit at the table in the single chair in middle of the room. In front of the single chair was a microphone on the table.
When I sat, the chairmen and woman looked at me. The woman was young, with brown hair pulled up into a top bun. She gave a small, sympathetic smile, but it only pulled at my heartstrings, making this much more complicated.
“Kandy Jennings, correct?” the man in the middle, with an obvious toupee, inquired.
“That is correct.”
“Nice to meet you. I am President Reverend Jones, this is Vice President Richard Grayson, and the school psychologist and therapist, Leslie Bailey. Can you say your full name and date of birth into the microphone please?”
“Yes. It’s Kandy Alexandra Jennings. I was born on September 19th, 1999.”
“Okay. Thank you for that. We are going to get started. While this is happening, please direct your answers to the microphone and answer as honestly as possible.”
“Okay.” I glanced down at the microphone.
“Miss Jennings, we’re going to get right into it. I’m sure you know why you’re here.” Mr. Grayson started. He was chubbier, bald with rosy cheeks, the collar of his shirt tight around his neck. “We have several images here of you with a man who is not a student or a teacher, on our campus. You were in his car, correct?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“And what were you doing in his car?”
“We had hung out that day and then he dropped me off.”
“Where did you go, if you don’t mind us asking?”
“He had booked a hotel here.”
All of their eyebrows nearly touched their foreheads. My heart sunk.
“Were you inside his hotel room, Miss Jennings?” Mrs. Bailey asked.
“I was.”
She nodded, looking down at one of the papers in front of her. “Okay. And is it true that this same man is Mr. Quinton Cane? He was here as a speaker for a business seminar but saw you and took you to a hotel?”
“N-no. That’s not how it happened,” I answered. “We knew each other before the seminar even happened. He knew this was the school I was attending so he signed up to be a speaker, but it wasn’t planned for me to go to his hotel. We agreed to do that when we spoke after the seminar.”
“Okay. We spoke to one of the student athletes this morning, and he told us that Mr. Cane was very aggressive with you? That something seemed off and you seemed afraid to be alone with him. Is that true?” she went on.
“That is not true.” I tried hard not to let my voice waver.
“Could it be that he forced you to go to his hotel? Made you feel as if you had no choice?” the president asked.
I shook my head. “No. What we did was a mutual understanding and consensual.”
Mr. Grayson sighed, folding his fingers on top of the table. “Listen, Miss Jennings. We may be able to help you keep your scholarship here, but not if you are covering up for this man. If you felt uncomfortable in any way while he was around, you can let us know and we can report it to the authorities. We want to protect you as best as we can.”
“I understand that, but Mr. Cane did not harm me, or threaten me, or make me feel like a victim, if that is what you are implying.”