✺ Kate's point of view ✺
I live in fear for the next twenty-four hours. Between knowing that he is trying to get ahold of me and my outburst with Professor Styles, I barely sleep a wink.
Somehow I end up somewhere off campus with a new pack of cigarettes and my cellphone weighing heavy in my pocket. I call my mother as I smoke multiple of the cancerous sticks, hoping to ease some of the relief. She asks knowingly if something is wrong just by the tone of my voice, but I tell her everything is fine. I don't need her worrying until I really know there's something wrong.
By the time I make it back to my dorm, it's pushing ten at night. It's pitch black out besides the street lights, but it doesn't scare me. Nothing really scares me at this point. Being framed as a murderer couldn't be much worse than anything else that could happen to me.
I get back to my room and avoid all electronics for the rest of the night. I'm not in the mood to check my email or my instant messages incase I'm once again under attack from a few simple words.
I just need to take a deep breath and not myself get worked up over stupid things. It's not worth my time, or my record of being well behaved since moving here. Certainly I do not need the cops interfering again.
✺
My classes seem to roll by fairly smoothly the following day. I intentionally sleep in past my alarm again and disregard the fact that I've missed Professor Styles class two days in a row. I don't really want to see him after yesterday and today was the last day before the weekend. Time too cool off definitely wouldn't be a bad thing for us.
When my last lecture of the day finally begins, I find myself content in taking notes in the back of the classroom with no one paying attention to me. I'm getting by thinking about asking Lena to accompany me to the movies or something this weekend so that I don't have to spend another few days only sitting in the dorm doing nothing.
Fifteen minutes before the bell rings, the door to the lecture hall opens. The all too familiar dean of students steps into the room and my heart feels as though it plummets into my stomach.
The inevitable comes all too soon and I'm packing up my things and following him out of the room minutes after the professor calling my name.
"Nice weather we're having today, huh?" The dean asks as we walk across campus towards his office. I look up at the gloomy sky and back at him, then silently nod, not exactly agreeing with the statement. The small talk isn't really my cup of tea when I know in my gut something is about to happen.
When we finally make it to his office, he pushes the door open and I nearly choke on my own spit. Professor Styles is sitting in one of the chairs in the office, kicked back with his legs crossed and hands perched in his lap. His expression is stoic even though I know I look like I'm about to cry.
"Have a seat, Kate. We have some things to discuss." The dean tells me kindly. I sit down in the chair beside Professor Styles, but keep to myself the best I can.
Part of me questions momentarily about if this meeting could simply be asking why I've skipped his class two days in a row, but I know it's not. They don't care that much in college to take time out of the Professors and the deans day.
"Well, I suppose we'll jump right into it. Professor Styles emailed me this morning and said that you and him had some sort of small dispute yesterday where you used vulgar and disrespectful language towards him. Do you know anything of that?" The Dean eyes me carefully and I consider jumping out of my seat and making a run for it.
"Yes, that's correct. I wouldn't necessarily call it a dispute but-"
"Save it, Kate. In these situations we typically take the student and the teachers sides of the story, but you're certainly a... Different student. Professor Styles is a highly respected teacher in this university and I hope you can understand that this is completely against your agreement that you signed when we accepted you as a transfer student." The Dean shakes his head at me and I continue to sit in silence, unsure of what to say or do.
"Sir, I understand that you have to do what's best for you school, but you also have to understand my side of the story. I can't go back to Florida. If I get expelled from this school they'll have to send me somewhere else and I'm just not starting to get settled in. I-I'm making friends with my roommate, I'm learning my way around the campus, I-" I feel my body shaking as I try to sway him to my side, but he continues to stare at me emotionlessly.
"I will do anything that I can to stay in this school. I feel safe in this city and I know that it's going to be a long time before I find somewhere else besides where I grew up that I feel comfortable just walking around in without being scared that he's going to find me. I've already caused my family so much grief this year. If I get expelled... I'm not even sure what I would do. They would disown me and my parole officer would probably drop my case for being difficult and I wouldn't have the law on my side anymore to protect me if he does end up finding me and-" I feel like a babbling idiot and I don't realize that my cheeks are wet with tears until I'm not sure what else to say to defend myself.
"I'm sorry. This is so embarrassing." I reach for a tissue on the desk and dab under my eyes, praying silently that my makeup isn't dripping down my cheeks.
This whole thing started out as a natural reaction for me to put on the best sob-story act I could so that the Dean would feel bad for me and consider going lighter on my punishment. As I began talking though and realized how much of my emotions I've been bottling up, the tears turned real and now I just feel plainly stupid crying in front of everyone.
"Don't be embarrassed. I think it's good to see that you are genuinely upset over this." The Dean assures back, not making me feel the slightest bit better.
"I don't necessarily think that expulsion is of question over this tiny dispute. Minuscule, really. It probably wasn't even worth my time to report it. I just feared that it would be an ongoing thing if I didn't, but Ms. Stevenson, I'm sorry for upsetting you like this." I feel Professor Styles hand touch my shoulder, but I shrug it off. His half-assed apology isn't going to change the fact that even if this doesn't lead to expulsion, this will go on my record and take me one step closer to expulsion the next time that I have a slip up.
"Harry, I appreciate you being considerate of her feelings but Kate's enrollment in this school was a special exception that we typically wouldn't even consider. I don't think I'm legally aloud to spread that information to you without Ms. Stevenson's consent, but you should know that she has a bit of history with the law enforcement and is here because she has to be. I'm sorry to say it Kate but I can't imagine this will be the last time that you'll be frustrated with this situation you're in and lash out at another Professor, or even a student." The Dean talks in a formal tone and I can feel myself getting choked up again. I can't even fathom having to tell my mother I got expelled.
"May I step outside for just one minute? I need to get some air before you come to a final decision, if you don't mind." I ask politely, looking up at the Dean. I haven't even looked over at Professor Styles since this whole thing began.
"Go ahead, Kate. We may have quite a bit of paper work to do to finalize all of this and we need to call your parole officer when you get back, so take your time." The Dean excuses me with a nod and I thank him quietly while getting up. I step silently out of the office and try to hold it together as I walk towards the bathroom.
If I had just kept my damn mouth shut, none of this would have happened. Why the hell do I keep letting men get the best of me and choose the direction my life goes in next? Firstly, he was the entire reason I had to leave Florida and my family. Now Professor Styles thinks it's his place to get me expelled over me rightfully calling him an asshole after he told me to leave him the hell alone. No one is innocent here but I seem to always be the one in trouble.
When I return from the bathroom a few minutes later, I'm surprised to see Professor Styles waiting outside of the door with my bag in his hands. I feel less stupid now that I had the chance to check my makeup in the mirror, but I'm still embarrassed to face him.
"I did what I thought was proper protocol. I had no idea that this would happen, Kate. You have to understand-"
"Understand what? That you get to yell at me but when I stick up for myself I get expelled? Thanks for your concern but I don't really think this is your problem anymore." I grab my bag from his hands and don't care about my tone as I walk away from him.
"Kate," his tone is sharp and I gasp when his hand wraps around my wrist and I'm pulled harshly back against his chest.
"Stop fucking walking away from me." He mutters lowly against my ear, making me gulp worriedly. This is certainly not a situation I've been in before with a teacher.
"Let go of me." I state back sternly. His hands grip on my wrist is tight, but I find the pain strangely exhilarating.
What the hell is wrong with me lately?
"Are you going to stand still and listen to me?" He asks back. His voice is still low and his lips are still scarcely close to my ear. I've never been more thankful that we're concealed by the walls surrounding the bathrooms.
"Let go of me and we'll see." I state once again. He hesitates for a long moment, then finally releases his hold on me. I turn around to face him and try to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. Despite my up and down emotions, he looks attractive when he's angry.
"You're not getting expelled. I talked the Dean out of it. That doesn't mean you're off the hook, though. I don't think the next Professor that you go off on will feel bad for you when you cry. Lucky for you, I have a soft spot for pretty girls with a bit of a rough past." He brushes out the wrinkles in his shirt and I roll my eyes at his sarcastic comment. It's easier than allowing myself to blush over him calling me pretty.
"What the hell are you doing with a parole officer and shit? You're, what, twenty years old and already deal with that? Jesus, Kate." He shakes his head at me and I can tell somewhere in his voice that he's not entirely serious. He actually seems amused.
"It's a long story that I don't really want to talk about. So I'm not getting expelled?" I look up at him hopefully and he nods while biting his bottom lip. I find myself staring a little too long as his perfectly straight teeth sunk into his plump lips, and only notice when I glance back up at him and he's also staring at my lips.
"I warned you that your smart mouth would get you in trouble. You're not very good at listening." His voice drops a few octaves so that anyone passing by certainly couldn't hear him making such a remark towards a student. I don't mind the tension between him and I, but I'm sure administration would.
"You're not getting expelled." He finally seems to snap out of his trance and look back at me in the eyes again instead of staring at my mouth.
"Thank you, Professor Styles. I wish this would have never happened in the first place." I admit back. He nods his head understandingly and leans against the wall beside us.
"Me too. I didn't think they would take it that far. I just wanted them to, like, talk to you and ask you to show me some respect." He truly does look apologetic, even though his emotions are hard to read.
After a long moment of silence, I finally think of the right thing that hopefully will put out the fire between us.
"I will vow to show you respect as a teacher if you can agree to talk to me as an adult rather than just another student that's supposed to follow every word you say."
Another beat of silence passes between us while we stare intently at each other. He's quite good at the emotionless staring and I'm not sure if it makes me feel giddy or creeped out.
"Deal." He holds his hand out to me and our palms clasp together as we slowly shake in agreement. Even when the gesture has ended, he hesitates to release my hand.
This is so wrong for a teacher and a student. I can't deny that I like it, though.
"I'll see you in class on Monday." I finally manage to end the conversation. I grab my bag to step away from him, but his husky voice stops me again.
"Woah woah, do you really think you're getting off that easily? You're not getting expelled but there is certainly some sort of punishment for this." He asks with a chuckle, making my eyes widen.
You're an asshole but you can certainly punish me any way you see fit- the hormonal side of my brain reminds me of his handsome features.
"What kind of punishment?" I ask back worriedly.
"You're to come to my room each day after classes for the next two months and assist me with my work. Think of it as some sort of teacher assistant kind of position." He pushes himself off of the wall and I follow him as he begins walking towards the exit of the office building.
"Two months? That's unbelievable! Why can't it just be a week or-"
"Kate." He cuts me off in a warning tone. I immediately clamp my mouth shut.
"We still have time to go back to The Deans office of you want to take it up with him?" He offers, cocking an eyebrow at me.
"No! I'm sorry, I think two months is reasonable. What about three? We could start tomorrow if you'd like?" I graze my hand across his forearm without thinking in hopes of smoothing over my slip up on words. We both look down at where my hand is touching his soft dress shirt, causing me to immediately retract my arm back to my side.
"Two months is just fine. And, unless you'd like to come to my apartment and grade papers with me, then I don't think I'll need you to start until Monday." He gives me an amused smirk and only then do I realize that it's Friday.
"Okay. Monday it is." I nod back embarrassedly. He nods with me, continuing to smirk.
After another beat of silence, I lift my hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, unsure of what to say next. He watches with curious eyes and pursed lips as if he wants to say something.
"Would you let me buy you a cup of coffee? Consider it a peace offering for making you cry?" His smirk turns into a slightly shy smile and my heart nearly flutters out of my chest.
Too much for today. I can't get sick of him now if I'm expected to spend the next two months with him.
"I actually had dinner plans in a little bit with my roommate. I didn't expect this all to happen this afternoon and she's probably worried..." I chew my lip nervously and he nods quickly, immediately accepting the rejection.
"Right, of course. I apologize if that was... Odd. Your personality is much more mature than most of the kids your age and I suppose it catches me off guard remembering that you're a student." He sifts his fingers through his own hair and I laugh along with him to ease the discomfort.
"I'm not a kid."
"Right, I'm supposed to respect you as an adult. You and your whole twenty years of age." His teasing is effortless and much more attractive on him than his typical scowl and rude sarcastic comments.
"I'm actually only eighteen." I state in return. I manage to keep a stoic expression while his face contorts into confusion, then pure horror.
"Jesus fucking Christ, I am so sorry-"
"I'm completely kidding. I'm twenty-one." I giggle at my own joke while Professor Styles seems to finally be able to breathe again.
"For a second there I thought you wouldn't be the only one with a parol officer." He teases lightly and we continue to laugh together over the stupid joke. It's not necessarily something to joke about-- an older man picking up on a younger woman. I only accept it because I assume he's within five to ten years of my age range, and because I'm not a minor anymore.
"Okay, well in that case, I think I owe you a cup of coffee for making you cry and you owe me a drink for scaring me like that." He finally manages to speak again once we've stopped laughing.
"I think you owe me a drink for finding your wallet." I taunt back.
This is going a bit too far with the playful flirting, but I don't think I want to stop it now.
"I think that can be arranged." He answers with his typical smirk.
"Not tonight though." I add to his comment after a beat of silence. He nods understandingly.
"Of course. I'll let you go, then. Have a nice weekend, Kate." He dismisses the conversation easily and for a moment, I wonder if I've hurt his feelings by rejecting him on getting together tonight. I didn't say no, just not tonight. It's not common for a professor to ask a student out for a drink, so I think it'd be best if we paced ourselves.
My only worry is that if he's already asking me out for drinks, then what's to come in the next two months?
✺
Authors note: things may be really confusing right now but hopefully there's enough details to make some sense. Things will clear up soon!
Thanks for reading