Author's Note- Edited.

Enjoy!

Forbidden

Encounter

December passed all too quickly after Thanksgiving break and, though I was oblivious to what had happened to him during the holiday, I found myself in debt to whatever it was as Professor Souza's distant demeanor turned 180 degrees over the following weeks.

That Saturday morning, business had been dead at the diner due to families staying home, eating leftovers from their Thanksgiving feasts, in which case that left me nearly half of my shift to visit with Professor Souza. Though we mostly discussed my quiz- which I had received an astonishing B after a solid track record of Cs in his class- and how I approached the problems to help me get a better grade, it still played as an icebreaker of his previous bearing. I almost wondered if him showing up at the diner just to give me my graded test before classes resumed was a way of him saying Let's start over. However, I had to chill my eager thoughts since I remained somewhat skeptical after he had pulled away once. Who was to say that he wouldn't do it again?

But, as students returned from visiting home for Thanksgiving and classes continued, so did my study sessions and Professor Souza's agreeably open behavior. In a span of four weeks, I had not only been able to keep a firm hold on my scholarship as my grade in calculus raised from a C to a B-, but I had also figured out a few things here and there that really made Professor Souza tick.

For instance, during the first week back, while the new environment between us was still fresh, I refrained from asking too personal of questions. So, I used miscellaneous occurrences as leverage to initiate a conversation. Like when I found my ticket stub to the showing of Frankenstein at the drive-in theater in my book bag.

"I'm disappointed that the drive-in is closed for the season. I wish that they had at least shown a better movie during their closing weekend."

Professor Souza's brows bent thoughtfully as I spoke. He was leaning back in his chair again, his go-to relaxing position whenever we were wrapping up our study seminars as he sat across from me at his desk.

"Drive-in movie theaters are still around?" He asked curiously.

"Of course they are. Haven't you ever been to one?"

Professor Souza shook his head and I felt my jaw drop.

"How could you have possibly gone your whole life watching movies without having gone to a drive-in theater at least once?" At least Liz was a few years younger and had a valid excuse. Though, I probably should have given him just as much credit as I gave her on the account of her never been to a drive-in movie theater.

"Easy." He shrugged. "I don't watch movies."

At this I allowed my head to fall to the desk, my forehead hitting the wood with a soft thunk.

Professor Souza found my zeal for the cinematic world somewhat amusing and I had to inform him that I didn't quite appreciate that. I then proceeded to demand that, when he was off work over the weekend, he had to watch at least one movie from his home collection.

"You are giving me homework?" He questioned, his brows rising in disbelief.

"At least it's more enjoyable than this," I stated blatantly, waving my sheet of finished equations unenthusiastically about.

The following Tuesday, Professor Souza pulled a DVD case from his messenger bag- where he kept his lesson plans and anything else he needed to commute back and forth between the school and his home- and tossed it across the desk at me with a smirk. I picked it up for inspection before turning a questioning look his way.

"Harry Potter?"

"It was the only movie I could find in my brother's storage."

Just the fact that he had actually gone home and sat through a movie, and an awful one at that- though the series had been a highlight of a decade- sent a pleasant swarm of butterflies to flutter about in my gut. And, taking it aside from the point, it brought up a new conversation for us during that week.

"What do you mean by your brother's storage?" I asked, placing the movie back on his desk to be forgotten.

He explained that he and his brother had been roommates since they were young. Even when they moved out and went to college, they stuck together. However, when they moved to the city and got two separately demanding jobs, not to mention that his brother's favorite pass time was to bring women home, they agreed that it was time to move into separate apartments. Though it's been over a year since they've both had their own respective places, his brother still had some things stowed away at Professor Souza's residence.

I learned more as I continued to ask a little here and there about his family while we moved into the third week. Apparently he and his brother had been exceptionally close growing up. In high school, most thought of them as a pair of best friends instead of brothers. Professor Souza even confessed- though somewhat reluctantly- that he had a pretty close relationship to his sister as well.

From what I had gathered, Professor Souza was extremely compassionate when it came to his family. The people he cared about. He came across as the kind of guy that grew up with little complaints because, as long as he had his father and his siblings, he seemed to have everything that he ever wanted.

I could recall at one point before that weekend informing him that I was a bit jealous of his relationship with his siblings, having grown up an only child. The only time that I ever truly felt something along the lines of what he expressed while talking about his family, was before Mom had passed away.

I wasn't quite ready to tell him anything along those lines, though. Nor did I have the guts to question where his mother was, seeing as how he never once spoke of her.

To my displeasure, the final week before classes were released for the Christmas holidays went by in a blink of an eye. In all that time I had been able to connect with Professor Souza, I had also gotten an 85 and an 87 on the tests that had passed. As we were ending our study session the Thursday before break, Professor Souza informed me that if I pushed myself just a little more, then I was sure to get an A on the final coming mid-January.

"So, do you have any plans for Christmas break?" I asked my calculus Professor curiously. I myself had similar plans to that of Thanksgiving since Dad was still in Europe and Aunt Lauren couldn't get the time off from work. I wanted to know if I would be seeing him around the diner if he stayed in New York instead of heading to Syracuse where his Dad was currently living.

I highly doubted it.

Professor Souza gave me a half smile and answered with a shrug.

"Usually, we all meet up at Dad's place."

"Yeah. I kind of figured that." I smiled, though I couldn't quite keep the sound of disappointment out of my voice.

"And you're going to head back to Buffalo?" Professor Souza asked, now leaning over his desk with his right arm crossed over the other. He had just finished packing away a pile of his student's homework he had to finish grading later in his messenger bag.

I shook my head and said, "The house is going to be empty if I do, so the trip doesn't seem worth it. I'm just going to pick up some extra shifts at Michael's since all the other waitresses are going to be taking the holidays off."

Professor Souza gave me a disapproving look.

"You're going to be alone on Christmas?"

"Not entirely. Nate will be on campus before and after Christmas day, so I'll have some company. I'm used to it otherwise." Which was pretty true when I thought about it. I don't remember any recent Christmases where I had actually been with my Aunt or my Dad. When Mom passed away, Dad stopped trying so hard and, as I grew older, so did Aunt Lauren.

"You and Mr. Bozian seem inseparable." Professor Souza deadpanned, the lack of tone in his voice sounding almost forced.

As much as Nate disliked our math instructor, I think the feelings were somewhat mutual as Professor Souza often called Nate out in class for being a disruption. However, as he spoke, Professor Souza subconsciously scratched at his right forearm, attracting my curiosity as to whether the tension between the two in class was more than a teacher's simple annoyance with one of his students.

"We've known each other since high school. You could say we kind of pulled each other through and share the same goals. We look out for each other. He's my best friend."

I wanted Professor Souza to understand that Nate wasn't purposefully being a screw-up in class. That he was more than just some jackass college punk skating through his courses as the Professor perceived. It was for the very reason that Nate was my closest friend and that he wasn't a bad guy that I felt a little obligated to defend him in a way.

Professor Souza's eyes locked with mine for a moment, gaze intense and concentrated as if he were searching for something. I met their green abyss, bemused by that power he shared with Nate to see right through me, knowing I felt completely vulnerable and exposed when he did this. Yet, surprisingly, with Professor Souza, I found that I liked it in a way, where, if it were the latter of the two staring at me, I was left feeling more violated and uncomfortable.

"Huh." He merely rumbled after what felt like hours under his scrutiny. I exhaled a breath I hadn't been aware of holding as he stood, taking hold of his messenger bag and promptly hoisting it over his shoulder. Reluctant, I stood too, not really wanting our remaining time alone before two weeks free of school to end.

He gestured towards the door.

"You have to do something other than work over your break, Chloe." My Professor stated as we made our way to the exit.

"Well, there is this party for New Year's Eve that Nate was talking about."

Professor Souza stopped. I glanced up at him quizzically and he gave me a skeptical look.

"A college party? You don't seem like the type of person who would enjoy a pointless, college bash, Chloe."

He was right. Even throughout high school I often found excuses to get out of going to whatever party I was invited to. That was more Nate's sort of thing. Extremely loud and awful music, drinking and smoking teenagers desperate for the high and the escape from what they depict as their miserable lives, and any room that you'd think private or a getaway from the chaos taking place in the rest of the venue occupied by irresponsible, hormonally crazed kids?

Definitely not my scene.

However, when Nate asked me if I wanted to go over the last weekend, I didn't take much time to agree. I wanted the distraction from which I would inevitably be missing my calculus Professor as the break dragged on.

"I'm not. But Nate really wants to go. He's the party type, and I can't just leave him to go by himself."

Professor Souza nodded after a moment, then stretched out his hand in front of me. I looked at it, perplexed.

"Let me see you're notebook." He rumbled simplistically.

Still perturbed, I reached into my book bag and surfaced my notebook and a pen. Professor Souza flipped it open and started to scribble something on the corner of the first page as he said, "If you're going to do something stupid, at least be smart about it."

"What do you mean-" I started to ask, standing up on my tiptoes, trying to pear over the front of the notebook in order to see what he was writing. However, he finished quite quickly and handed it back to me. Examining what he had wrote, I felt my heart stagger a few beats and my brain screech to a halt, for what I found was his name- his full name- and seven digits.

"I'm not telling you to get into any trouble, but, if you insist on breaking the law, then call for a ride."

"But, Nate's of age." I said, still somewhat shocked by this gesture. He gave me a stern look.

"I'm talking about you, Chloe. I used to be a college student too, remember? I know what happens at those parties and, though I don't encourage it, I'm not going to put it past even you to do something reckless."

"I can wait three months to drink," I muttered defensively. But, even if my twenty- first birthday was just a few months away, I'd be lying if I claimed that I had never had alcohol before. Professor Souza was right. He wasn't stupid and he was offering his help so that I wouldn't get myself into trouble.

He was looking out for me.

The idea itself sent my stomach into a fit of hysterics and my mind into overdrive, analyzing what it could possibly mean.

"You say that now." Professor Souza smirked. "And then, as you're dealing with a killer migraine the next morning, you tell yourself that you're never going to drink again. Both very misleading claims."

I laughed, grateful for Professor Souza's ability to just say something that would bring me back to Earth and keep me somewhat grounded when my girlish brain was anything but.

"Alright, I get it. Thank you, Professor Souza. I promise I won't get into any trouble."

He gave me my newest favorite feature of his. That small, crooked smile, and opened his mouth to say something. However, when he started to speak, he was interrupted by a new voice filling the classroom.

"So, this is where all the magic happens."

We both glanced towards the door of Professor Souza's classroom and I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach while a knot formed in my throat. All happy thoughts of Professor Souza giving me his phone number and expressing concern for my wellbeing shattered in the wake of our visitor's leering expression.

Professor Banks.

"What do you want, Royce?" Professor Souza questioned calmly, tone void of emotion. From his smile to his signature, displeased scowl I was reunited with the fact that Professor Souza didn't like Professor Banks. At all. Since my encounter with the arts instructor before Thanksgiving, I had almost forgotten that the two had a mysterious past I knew nothing about and, to say the least, I was ten times more wary of Professor Banks' sudden reoccurrence.

What was he doing here?

Said man was leaning against the door frame, hands stuffed in his pockets per usual as he smirked our way. I repressed a shudder- though he seemed to show little interest- as his brown eyes met mine, holding them in a taunting manner, almost implying, Fancy seeing you here spending so much time with my dear college buddy, Ms. Chloe Saunders.

Then he seemed to get bored as he matched Professor Souza's hard gaze with more attentiveness, tossing me aside like a toy he could care less about.

"Come on, Derek. That's no way to greet an old friend." He teased, eyes flashing menacingly.

Professor Souza snorted and took a slight step forward, somehow slipping himself between me and Professor Banks.

"Friend? That's news to me, Professor. Last I checked, you were informing the board of my inability to be a fitting mentor." Professor Souza rumbled lowly. "Explain to me the significance of friendship in that."

I watched Professor Souza questioningly. Is that what had happened between them? Were they actually friends in college and then, when they were both applying to teach at the same University, had Professor Banks gone behind Professor Souza's back to keep the latter from getting the job?

With Royce's vindictive personality and Professor Souza's warnings for me to be cautious of him in concern of being hurt, I had an inkling that there was far more to it than that.

Professor Banks gave a short, sharp laugh and pushed away from the door frame, striding into the classroom uninvited. Professor Souza moved more in front of me, playing it off as if wanting to meet his unwelcomed guest's advance, but I knew full well that he was trying to keep me out of the situation. And the situation was definitely beginning the brew. I could feel the tension rising in the suddenly crowded room.

"How's your old man, Souza? Has he been working hard lately?" Professor Banks asked casually, tone suggesting he could really care less.

"What's it to you?" Professor Souza questioned, his demeanor just as placate as Royce's though noticeably forced. "Worried? Been feeling a little anxious nowadays?"

I staggered my glance between the two, struggling to piece together what they were going on about, remembering everything that Professor Souza had said about this man.

And then a thought occurred to me.

If Professor Banks had some sort of connection with Professor Souza's father, the lawyer, then something must have happened that was relevant to the law. And I had this unsettling feeling that it was something bad.

"Want to know something, Derek?" Professor Banks asked, tone light with a dark sense of mirth.

"I have nothing to be afraid of. You and your father have nothing on me because there is nothing on me."

"Is that the reason you're here then? To reiterate that?" The math instructor questioned, the inflection in his voice expressing that he didn't give a damn what Royce had to say. And Professor Banks caught this.

For the first time since he had entered the room, Royce frowned.

"Rude as ever, aren't we?"

When Professor Souza said nothing, Professor Banks rolled his eyes and turned back towards the door.

"And just as boring." He added passively.

I felt a wave of relief wash through me as he made to leave. However, the feeling was short-lived when he paused at the door and turned his attention back to us.

"Happy holidays."

His eyes flickered to mine briefly and he smirked.

"Have a nice break, Chloe."