Page 57 of Teaching Roman

Taking a deep breath, I let them lead me downstairs to the bowels of the union where the Student Ethics Committee convened. They called it their courtroom, but it was nothing more than a glorified meeting room reserved for their use. Although the university had given them a fancy engraved plaque to hang on the door.

The committee was already there, but I had to wait outside to be called in for my hearing. As far as I could tell from the nearly empty chairs in the waiting area, they had a fairly light docket for the day.

“Miss Stone?” a chipper young girl squeaked from the door.

I stood up, doing my best not to glare at her. It was almost the end of the academic year, so the SEC would be training the new batch of students selected to sit on the board next year. She didn’t look worn down, so she must be one of the newly elected. Hearing about assaults, theft, and basically all the screwed up things my fellow students did to one another really brought you down. By the time I was finished with my term, I was grateful for the résumé spot and little else. I'd only applied for the position because I had briefly considered law school over medical school. It took less than a month of being on the board before I realized I wasn't meant for a real courtroom. I couldn’t help but wonder how she’d feel in a year’s time.

Jillian and Cassie stood to come in with me, but the new girl shook her head. “Due to the delicate nature of this situation, only the parties and their representation are allowed inside.”

I wanted to wring her delicate neck, but I clamped my mouth shut. Giving each of them a quick kiss on the cheek, I turned on my heel to follow the girl inside, but before I could enter, Lillian pushed past my group of supporters.

“I'm her representation,” she announced. She gripped my elbow and steered me past the newbie, who stared at her like she was a rockstar. The SEC was full of wannabe lawyers, and while they allowed students to bring in their own representation, no one ever did. From the way the girl's eyes lit up, I could tell she was looking forward to seeing a professional in action. Hopefully, Lillian would wow the rest of the committee, too.

The board was seated at a long table, doing their best to look judicious and upright.

“Miss Stone,” the girl at the center of the table greeted me, and I realized with dread that it was Lauren Buckley, one of the students I had trained to replace the outgoing board last semester. Lauren had taken her training very seriously—too seriously if you asked most of us—and now she was the one presiding over my case.

This wasn't going to end well.

Brett stared at me from the other podium, but I did my best to ignore him, lest my head actually exploded from fury. I couldn’t believe he had actually shown up. It might work in my favor to see this was a case of sour grapes. If I had my choice, though, he wouldn’t be here.

“All are present? Defendants?” she asked the boy to her right.

“The defendant and her representative seem to be present,” he answered dryly. I caught the slight twitch of his lower lip. He wasn't taking this nearly as seriously as Lauren. Most people didn't at this point in the year.

“Both parties are present?” she asked.

“They're both here.” The boy tilted his head toward the side of the meeting room.

Both? I really hoped they were talking about Brett, but I knew better. He wasn’t a defendant. He’d brought the complaint. But I should be the only one on trial, as it were. Unless. As hard as I tried to keep from looking, my head swiveled against my will to confirm my worst nightmare. Roman sat in the corner. His eyes were trained on me, but he made no friendly gesture. He didn't even smile. Would a little acknowledgment be an admission of guilt or did he resent being dragged into his girlfriend’s drama?

“Why is he here?” I blurted out. Lillian's fingers dug into the fleshy back of my arm, warning me to keep a lid on it. But I had to know why he’d come. He wasn't an undergraduate, and Roman had told me himself that he'd already been censured by the communications department.

“He has been called as a witness to corroborate the testimony we received from Mr. Brett—”

“He's here to witness for Brett?” The question flew from my lips and my sister’s nails dug deeper. I was pretty sure she would have thrown a hand over my mouth if she thought it would get me to shut up.

“What my client is trying to say,” she said, stepping in, “is that we were not informed that there would be a need for witnesses.”

“Yeah, I have witnesses I could call,” I said. Lots of them. I wasn’t sure what I wanted them to say, but I didn’t like feeling outnumbered—or betrayed.

This time Lillian stepped on my foot, which caused me to gasp out loud, raising more than a few eyebrows. Through the slight pain, I realized asking Cassie or Jillian to witness about my relationship with Roman would be a horrible idea. Jillian wouldn't know what to say and Cassie would probably get cited for an ethical violation of her own for dropping the f-bomb.

“That probably won't be necessary,” Lauren said. “If you're prepared, we can begin.”

We stood in front of the committee because there were no chairs or desks allotted for our use. Since most cases were determined in less than ten minutes, no one saw the need for it. But standing in front of everyone set me on edge. It made it feel like I was being sentenced for a crime rather than defending myself. I wanted to sit down where I could hide the nervous tap of my foot. It didn't help that I could feel Roman's eyes boring into my back. His presence made me look guilty. I was sure of it. I tried to remind myself of Lillian’s argument. We were both students. We hadn’t done anything wrong, but it was hard to keep that in mind with a jury of my peers glaring back at me.

“Miss Stone, you're here because a fellow student submitted a complaint stating that you engaged with a faculty member in an inappropriate manner.” Lauren paused as if I might admit my guilt and throw myself at her mercy. I didn’t/

“My client did not engage in a relationship with a faculty member.” It felt strange to have Lillian call me her client. Something about the term sounded criminal, and the fact that it was my sister saying it made it even worse.

“She didn't?” Lauren asked. A few of the board members straightened in their seats at the hostility present in those two small words. This girl had a future in politics.

“She did not,” Lillian said slowly, making her words deliciously condescending. No one was a match for her in the court room and she wasn’t going to go easy on a know-it-all twenty-something. “Mr. Markson is not a member of the faculty at present. He is a graduate student, completing his PhD. I assume that romances between two students are permissible at Olympic State. Otherwise you might have a few more students on your docket today.”

There were more than a few nervous laughs from the committee, but Lauren's eyes narrowed. “My notes say Mr. Markson completed his doctoral program two weeks ago.”

“I presume there are a number of seniors graduating next week in relationships with juniors and sophomores. Will you be citing them all as well? It seems like a waste of university resources. Nevertheless, Mr. Markson was a student during the time of their relationship,” Lillian said. It was such an obvious argument and yet coming from my sister's lips it sounded brave and confident—and most importantly, true.