In the midst of the group, one of the girls, clearly relishing Jane's distress, ramped up her taunts. "Oh, Miss Taylor, give it a break, will you? Instead of throwing a fit, focus on cranking out that ten-thousand-word essay. We're all stuck in this mess because of you."
"Yeah, you owe us. Don't even try to weasel out of it."
"Owe you?" Fiona's voice, though quiet, was laced with enough edge to catch everyone's attention. Her words cut through the tension like a knife. "How old are you guys? Adults, right? Playing these silly games, aren't you embarrassed? Or maybe you just don't care about shame at all? If someone says 'jump,' you jump. What are you, under some kind of spell? So eager to please."
"That's the academic advisor. Who's brave enough to defy them?"
Fiona arched an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Well, if that's the case, then you deserve to write it. What's that got to do with us?"
It was crystal clear that Amy was pulling the strings here. Otherwise, why else would there be a demand for a ten-thousand-word essay for some so-called event? Did they seriously think college students had all the time in the world?
Especially at Crestwood University, where students were known for burning the midnight oil to study, unless, of course, they were from wealthy families who coasted through just to snag a degree, with little concern for actual learning. They've got a safety net, so why worry about the future?
"You!" The girl was so flustered she couldn't muster a comeback.
Fiona had no time for her nonsense. She grabbed Jane's hand and shot a glance at Tyler. "We're out of here."
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