Author's Note- Edited.

Enjoy!

Forbidden

Party

"I'm just amazed that I was able to find it, Chloe. Were you surprised?"

I smiled into the receiver of my cell phone at the delighted tone in Aunt Lauren's voice, all the while caressing possibly my most precious possession that hung loosely around my neck, it being the subject of Aunt Lauren's excitement.

"I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought I would never see it again."

The trinket was an amulet I had been given by my mother before she passed away and was something I had worn every day since. That is, until I lost it in a transition between my Aunt's apartment and my Dad's as he was just starting to get sponsored trips to Europe when I had turned fifteen. I had been so disparaged for months after I lost it and, though Aunt Lauren promised that she would find it someday, I lost all hope after about six months.

The ruby red amulet had been all but forgotten and forever lost to me, until the day before, when I took Christmas day as the greatest opportunity to open the gifts Dad and Aunt Lauren had sent to me.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so glad to hear that you're happily reunited with it. I feel simply terrible that I can't spend your break from school with you."

I would have shrugged indifferently if not for the fact that I was merely speaking with her over the phone. I was on my break at the diner and she was still working at her hospital in Albany.

I settled instead for a half-hearted, "Don't worry about it, Aunt Lauren. I'm using the time to pick up some extra credit for a few of my courses and some extra hours at Michael's. We're both busy."

"You don't have to put up a brave front, Chloe. Maybe if Steve hadn't always been away on business while you were growing up-"

"Give him a break, Aunt Lauren." I mumbled with a roll of my eyes. She would never openly admit it, but Aunt Lauren didn't much care for the man her sister had married. At least, that's what I perceived since as long as I could remember, which mostly occurred in patterns after Mom had died when I actually paid more attention to the way Dad and Aunt Lauren behaved around each other.

Making a long story short, I just think that Aunt Lauren believes that Dad dwells solely on my absent mother and altogether gave up trying once she was gone, burying himself into his work as a distraction and a way to cope. Unlike my bitter Aunt, however, I couldn't blame the man.

Though there was a post-Christmas glow about the city and I was, in fact, delighted to be reunited with my mother's amulet, I didn't feel up to playing the devil's advocate as Aunt Lauren insisted on berating my father. I found myself extremely grateful to hear the sound of the entrance bell chime in welcome of one of the few customers to enter the diner this slow morning, regardless of whether I was on my break or not.

Even more, I was extremely pleased to see that said customer was Professor Souza.

"Listen, Aunt Lauren. Thanks again for the Christmas gift, I couldn't ask for anything more, but I have to get back to work," I muttered in a rush, eyes following my calculus Professor's back as he sat at a table on the other end of the diner without noticing myself occupying the otherwise empty restaurant.

"But, I thought you said that you just started your break?" She questioned incredulously.

"I'll have to finish it later, I have customers. Love you." I didn't even wait for her to reply as I clicked my phone shut and slipped myself out of my booth.

I was somewhat abashed to admit that I had been more than simply dissatisfied at the idea of not being able to see Professor Souza for two whole weeks. He said he was going to spend his holiday with his family a good four hours away in Syracuse. And though I was pleasantly surprised by his presence, I wondered why he wasn't there now.

In fact, as I made my way across the diner towards his table to greet him, I couldn't help but notice his slumped shoulders and his seemingly irate and aggravated aura.

He looked exhausted.

The air about him felt similar to that of when we had parted ways before the Christmas break had started. After our run-in with Royce. That afternoon, he had insisted on escorting me out to my car and, if it were under different circumstances, I would have blushed and relished in the idea. He had been taut and rigid, however, and his faraway expression conveyed that his mind was off somewhere else as he uttered a half-hearted, Have a good holiday, Chloe.

Is he still worked up about that?

I decided to stop by the brewing station before I reached him and started pouring his regular order of black coffee, hoping to deliver it to him before he even had to order it. However, I was interrupted by a shadow passing over me and a dark hand reaching around and snatching the coffee mug from my grasp once I had finished pouring the piping hot Joe.

"Girl, you're supposed to be on break. I can handle the customer."

I turned to meet the amber eyes and copper curls of my co-worker, Rachelle. Her and I weren't the greatest of friends but we usually got along well enough and were roughly the same age. She worked a lot more hours here at the diner than I did, taking up most of the weekday shifts as she took evening classes at the local community college. In which case, she could get pretty bossy and pushy at times.

For a moment, I thought she was generally concerned with the fact that I wasn't taking advantage of my break time. That is until I saw her eyes dart towards Professor Souza's unsuspecting position while he was tiredly skimming over the menu, dark orbs flashing in a light I didn't find myself too comfortable with.

"Besides," She began as an extra note, a confident smirk tugging at her lips. "Tall, dark and sexy is my regular."

She said this as if we were two high school girls standing at the far end of the hallway, gossiping about the cute, popular guy while he rummaged through his locker. It was less of the inclination of her words than the idea that sent my insides into an angry boil of a strange emotion I wasn't quite used to. I didn't think that she was purposefully being snobbish or even seemingly possessive, but I knew she was speaking the truth about Professor Souza's regular visits during the week as he had informed me himself.

And I was jealous.

Surprised with myself, I resolved to an indifferent demeanor and retrieved the coffee mug from her grip as she eyed Professor Souza with a wanting glow. She turned to me with a questioning and almost agitated look.

"Actually, he's a friend of mine and I've been waiting for him. He's my regular on Saturdays."

"Yeah?" Rae quizzed, left brow rising as if I were lying. "What's his usual order then?"

Now she definitely came across as possessive.

I set the coffee mug on the counter, grabbed two sugar packets and a small creamer dispenser. I emptied the contents of the two and stirred the coffee until the color was evenly lighter. Rae glared and mumbled something unintelligible before stalking off to sweep the lobby.

I smiled triumphantly and made my way to Professor Souza's table. He was no longer looking over the menu but staring out the window upon the bustling city. I couldn't help wondering what had him so fixated and tired looking. Maybe it had nothing to do with Professor Banks. After all, the encounter had passed almost a week ago. Had something happened with his family? Had he been unable to make it to his father's place to meet up with them for Christmas?

Deciding it was better to ask the questions myself instead of merely going through the loop of them in my head, I placed the coffee in front of my calculus Professor and slid into the booth opposite of him.

He jumped, startled out of whatever bunny trail his thoughts had taken and took notice of the coffee before his eyes bounced to mine. He had this contradicting look of being both wary and yet seemingly pleased to see me.

"You look like you needed it." I said softly, gesturing to the coffee. He mumbled his thanks and took a sip.

"I'm almost afraid to ask you how your Christmas was." I tried to keep my tone light, but the longer he remained silent, the more worry started to brew in my stomach.

Had something awful happened?

However, Professor Souza took in my expression and chuckled lightly, shaking his head, allowing me to release a breath of relief that my terrible suspicions were wrong.

"Is it normal for diner waitresses to bring their customers coffee and play therapist as if they work at a bar around here?" He questioned, his smirk replacing his tired features.

"Technically, I'm not your waitress." I stated in a mockingly condescending tone. "I'm on my break and Rae looked like she was about to eat you."

Professor Souza glanced back towards the breakfast bar to find that Rachelle was occasionally sending watchful looks our way before turning back to me with a roll of his eyes.

"No offense to the employees here, but if this wasn't my favorite restaurant since I was a kid, waitresses like her would keep me from coming regularly."

I laughed, mostly because I was now finding my previous jealousy towards Rae somewhat silly. If anything, I should have known better than to think anything significant of Rachelle's previous words as I had witnessed on many occasions girls acting in similar ways around Professor Souza, in which he merely shot them down.

"I'm pleased to see that you got some more hours, however. It's refreshing to have some adequate customer service every now again when I make my visits here." He added after another sip of his coffee.

"I thought I just told you that I'm not your waitress." I stated, which earned a snort in response.

"That's right. You're my counselor today." His green eyes softened a little and that exhausted look returned. "Very well, I'll bite. My Christmas was good enough. But I couldn't see myself staying in Syracuse any longer than necessary."

"Why not?"

I found that after spending roughly four weeks with a more open and approachable Professor Souza that it was easier to pry here and there to get more details out of him. Once again I could depict that the man clad in baggy jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt sitting before me was not my instructor, but simply just Derek Souza. Somebody I could see becoming a close friend instead of solely being my mentor.

And, surprisingly, Derek didn't appear to mind my growing nosiness. At least, not since the Thanksgiving weekend. He almost seemed to welcome it, as if he resolved to be less reclusive.

Derek cocked his head to the side with a roll of his eyes, his right pointer finger running absently along the lip of his coffee mug.

"Let's just say the pleasantries of me visiting home was short-lived."

"I don't understand," I said, tone amused due to his annoyed demeanor. Derek shrugged after another swig of his coffee. He really seemed to be going to town with it and I wouldn't be surprised if he were to ask for another cup here soon.

"Have you ever done something that you wouldn't normally do and then get shit for it by your friends or your family?" He asked, reminding me of his colorful vocabulary and coming across younger than I perceived him to be.

I could think of something more recently, where Nate was constantly badgering me and Liz's behavior towards our math and arts Professors. But it was more of him showing his displeasure than teasing us about it. I could only imagine Professor Souza's siblings taunting him if he had done something out of character.

"Who hasn't?" I questioned. "But it's mostly because they're unwilling to express what's really on their mind when it comes down to it. Either they're worried about you or happy to see some kind of change, you know?"

"I suppose," Derek mumbled, finishing his brew.

"Here, let me get you some more." I stood and grabbed his mug.

He shook his head. "You don't have to, Chloe. You said you weren't my waitress today."

I gave him a smirk.

"I'm not doing it as your waitress."

Before I could retreat to poor him some more coffee, I noticed something catch his attention and he pointed towards my chest. Confused, I glanced down to see if he had spotted something obscure on my wardrobe, but only found my mother's amulet nestled against my collarbone.

"That's new, isn't it?"

I touched the red jewel tenderly and smiled.

"Not really. My mother gave it to me a long time ago, but I lost it in a move when I was fifteen. My Aunt came across it and gave it to me as a Christmas present."

I looked up and was surprised to meet the solemn expression in his eyes. I wondered for a half second why he suddenly fell so sympathetic when I realized that, somehow, he must already know that my Mom wasn't around. He had access to that kind of information as a Professor and I could recall him informing me that he had read my record in order to see my past achievements. I'm sure it was stated somewhere that my mother was deceased.

He opened his mouth to say something but I held up my hand to stop him.

"I'm sure you already know, Professor-"

"Derek." He interrupted. I started, somewhat taken aback. Of course he had asked me to call him by his first name before, however, I never have. Not out loud, at least.

"D-Derek," I stammered shyly. I felt my cheeks heat and I did my best to continue. "I just want you to know that it's okay. My mother passed away a long time ago. Of course I miss her, but, there is nothing anyone can do about it and I've come to accept that. If anything, getting my necklace back, I feel closer to her now more than ever."

After a moment where Derek seemed lost in thought, the storm of empathy that I didn't really want ebbed and he gave me a small smile.

"I think I'll take some more of that coffee now."

Derek only stayed long enough to finish his second cup of coffee and the conversation from that point on remained pretty light. He didn't go back into detail as to what his family had berated him about while he visited them for the holiday, nor did he dwell on the subject of my deceased mother.

He stopped by the diner a couple more times over the following week. Only, I didn't get to spend any of that time with him as I had that day. Either Rae raced to serve him before I could, or Nate intercepted my attention as he hung around the restaurant while I worked.

To say the least, I couldn't wait for class to resume as well as our study seminars so that I could have a legitimate excuse to be alone with him again.

When the last day of the year approached, I closed up the diner early and made it back to my dorm room by seven, taking the spare time that I had to get ready for the party Nate was dragging me to. Though I had agreed to go, the closer it came to actually attending, the less I wanted to. In retrospect, the only real business I had to going was to keep an eye on Nate as he was bound to get sloppy drunk.

I settled for a green blouse that Aunt Lauren had also sent me for Christmas and a pair of skinny jeans and topped off my outfit with brown, lace-up leather boots. I kept my hair simple and left it down, the tresses falling in their natural wave just past my shoulder blades. I noticed that it was probably time to get it trimmed before it got too long. I didn't mind the length, but it didn't help that, with my baby face and height, it made me look more like a fifteen year old than a twenty year old.

I was applying a simple coat of mascara when there was a thunderous rap on my door.

"Chloe? Get your ass out here before I have to drag you out myself! It's party time!"

I rolled my eyes at my best friend's antics.

Great. He's already had a few drinks.

I grabbed my jacket from the closet and opened the door to be greeted by Nate's huge grin and slightly flushed cheeks.

"Finally! Ready for this? I heard that this was the party of the year last New Year's."

"Let's get this over with," I mumbled, closing my door behind me as I followed him down the hall.

Personally, I wasn't a fan of Liam Malloy. I didn't know him on a personal level, but I didn't have to in order to know that he was a dick. He was a senior at NYU and I shared my Tuesday and Thursday political science class with him. I was also aware that he was in the follow-on class to Professor Souza's second year calculus course meaning I often ran into him after I was leaving my own math class.

Though it was mostly because he was simply an asshole, Liam was somewhat of a head honcho on campus. He was tall, athletic as he played for the college's football team, and had a loud personality. He didn't have a problem smooth talking just about anyone, especially girls. What with his long, dirty blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, generous build, strict features, charming southern drawl and alluring blue eyes, he didn't really have to try so hard.

With that being said, he didn't have to try so hard to throw wild parties either.

I found myself getting extremely annoyed with the atmosphere as I sat on a barstool at the island in the kitchen of Liam's parent's suburban home. With Liz being occupied by her heavy make-out session with Peter and Nate off rough housing with some of his friends, I wondered what the hell I was even doing at this party.

Even the few drinks that I had weren't helping the noise or the fact that I was bored out of my mind.

"Well, if it isn't Chloe Saunders." Speak of the devil.

I glanced up from playing a pointless game of Angry Birds on my phone to see none other than the man of the hour smirking back at me from across the island.

"Liam." I greeted, tone simple and void of emotion before I returned to my game.

"Didn't think you were the kind of girl who liked to party, cutie." His accent was slurred worse from no doubt an excess of alcohol consumption and, as I've had a few drinks of my own and knew to be particularly irate when intoxicated, I decided I didn't really care for being polite at the moment.

I tossed him a Does it look like I like to party look.

Liam chuckled and took a swig of one of the two beers he had in his hands before grabbing one of the bar stools and dragging it around the island to sit next to me.

"I'm not interested in any company, Liam."

I had learned back in high school how to communicate with guys like Liam as I had a bully of similar caliber back then. I couldn't be the soft spoken, stuttering shy girl that I used to be. I had to be blunt and firm, show them that they had no power or intimidation over me.

"Come on, Chloe. I just want to talk."

Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I glanced at him skeptically, finding that he was acting suspiciously civil. He only grinned and held up the fuller bottle of beer he had to me.

"Here, have a drink."

He couldn't seriously think that I was that stupid. I don't know how many other girls he's tricked into getting drunk and doing whatever he was pleased to do with them, but I've seen enough movies and seen plenty in high school in general not to fall for his bullshit ruses. Who knows if he's added something to that drink?

"No thanks. I've got my own."

I grabbed my own beer from the counter and slid off my bar stool. When my feet touched the ground, I wobbled slightly, now feeling those drinks I had since I was no longer immobile. I refused to let Liam see that, though, and brushed passed him to leave the kitchen.

"Don't be like that, cutie-" Liam started, his fingers brushing against my upper arm as he made to halt me from leaving. I wrenched my arm away and glared at him, the movement executed so fast that the kitchen swayed a little.

"I said I'm not interested." I snapped, then turned and trudged into the sea of sweaty, swaying bodies that moved and grinded against each other in tune with the blaring music.

I shoved past a couple who seriously needed to learn the meaning of Leave room for Jesus, and did my best to navigate my way out of the dining room and into the living room where I had last seen Nate. He had been juggling with the idea of swinging from the chandelier at the time.

I found him dancing about on top of the rather expensive looking, beige colored sofa, bouncing up and down in order to reach aforementioned chandelier.

"Nate!" I called over the noise of the party, the strain at how loud I had to be causing my head to throb a little.

Nate's bemused, blue eyes met mine at the sound of his name and he gave me a goofy grin, clearly far more intoxicated than I was. He leapt off the couch and staggered his way over to me.

"Isn't this awesome, Chlo? I'm having a fucking blast!"

"I want to go home." I said- shouted- ignoring his excitement. He gave me a disbelieving look and pointed at the beer in my hand.

"You haven't even finished your drink, Chloe."

I rolled my eyes and made a show of chugging the rest of my beer before setting the bottle on the coffee table littered with other containers of alcoholic beverages. Nate blinked away his surprise and crossed his arms.

"You have to have more than one drink-"

"That was my fifth, Nate." I interrupted, hardly showing concern for the way the words simply spilled from my lips in a slurred mess. "I want to go home."

"But," Nate protested, his tone almost whining. "It's not even midnight yet. We have to at least wait until the New Year."

"Well then, you're going to have to find another girl to kiss after the countdown. I'm not staying." I turned to leave, dreading the idea that I had to push through the swarm of drunken college students once again. However, Nate grabbed my wrist. I met his gaze again, wondering briefly if he was actually going to leave with me. Only, I found his eyes burn with a light of something akin to eagerness and hope.

He smiled, dimples coming to life within his flushed cheeks and asked, "You were going to kiss me for New Years?"

I gave him a look that informed him that I was being sarcastic and asked if he was coming with me or not. Disappointment overpowered his expression and I chalked it up to him being drunk. As if he would really want me to kiss him once the clock stroke midnight.

He informed me that he would find his own taxi once the New Year was introduced and I left him back to his stupid quest to swing from the chandelier. I wasn't worried about it; the lighting fixture was far too high for him to reach regardless.

By the time I made it to the front door, I had been pushed and tossed about so much that I couldn't quite seem to walk or see straight. That or perhaps the five beers I had. I've learned before that I can handle my alcohol, but the combination of my small frame, not too much to eat in the last several hours and the five drinks I had consumed? I was definitely more or less drunk.

I cursed, having not planned on drinking whatsoever. Nate and I had ridden in a taxi to get to the party, not wanting to repeat the incident where he narrowly escaped throwing up in my car the last time he had gotten drunk. I refused to risk it. But, I also hadn't planned on leaving the party alone.

I vaguely remembered a recent conversation where someone told me to call them if I needed to during this party. Hell, I even remembered being so excited about receiving said person's phone number that I instantly programmed it into my phone. However, for the life of me, I couldn't remember who it was at the moment.

As I staggered across the front lawn of Liam's parent's place, I reached for my back pocket to retrieve my phone in hopes of jumpstarting my memory of whose number I had received and getting myself away from this damned party. But, as my fingers grazed the slick plastic of my phone, something suddenly gripped my upper arm- tightly, might I add- and yanked me backwards.

I yelped and blindly grabbed for whoever it was that had a hold of me to steady myself before I could fall. As I turned to meet someone's chest as well as found an unstable balance on my wobbly legs, I glared up at my captor in annoyance.

The bitter retort I was ready to release was cut short, frozen as my mind registered who belonged to said chest and hand still wrapped in a death grip around my miniscule bicep.

"What do you think you're doing, Chloe?"

"I-I-" I stammered, desperately searching for my words and previous blunt tone but vainly. The alcohol in my system made my reactions slow and I had a hard time processing that, not only was this current situation bad, but what I could do to get out of it.

It also didn't help much that I was staring into the predatory gleaming blue eyes of Liam Malloy.

"So you think you can just brush me off so rudely at my party and then leave without even saying goodbye, cutie?"

"L-Liam, let go. You're h-hurting my arm." I shoved hard against him and he released me. However, as he slid his hands into his pockets, he remained uncomfortably close. He bent forward slightly. Enough so that I could smell the alcohol on his breath as it fanned across my cheeks.

Not good.

"You're so impolite tonight, Chloe, and you could say that it's pissing me off. So I suggest that you stick around a little longer. Have some fun."

I opened my mouth to give him a fairly impatient and rude No thanks, but was cut off as another voice interrupted and spoke for me.

"And I suggest that you back off and get back to your party, Mr. Malloy. Before I decide to call the cops and inform them that your providing alcohol to minors and God knows what else is going on in your house."

I didn't have to see him in order to know who the threat belonged to, for I had obsessed over the rough texture of that voice for months and would be able to recognize it anywhere. Liam and I glanced towards the street where Derek stood, leaning against a small black sedan with his arms crossed, sporting a disapproving grimace being shot in Liam's particular direction.

For a minute, it was silent between the two as they stared each other down, Derek- well, more of Professor Souza- firm with authority and Liam with a desire for defiance. Through my muddled brain, I could barely make out that Liam was stubbornly fighting against the instinct that told him to stand down, as if he really wanted to challenge Professor Souza like he was just another college kid his age. But, despite what I personally believed, Liam was smarter than that and knew better, even in his intoxicated state.

So, Liam backed down, muttering something about Lame ass teachers crashing his party, before sulking back up to his house. When I was sure that he was gone, I turned, a smile and gratitude on my lips.

Until I saw his expression.

I met Professor Souza's hard and disapproving gaze. The steely and looming look in his green eyes made me feel like a misbehaved puppy that had just piddled all over his new slippers. However, even if he seemed about to give me shit- though what he had just stepped into had clearly been Liam's fault- I couldn't help questioning what he was even doing here. So I asked him.

Professor Souza closed his eyes and released a tired sigh. He held out his hand calmly, in it his smart phone, the screen showcasing that it was in the middle of a phone conversation. I recognized my own number and that the duration of the call was close to twenty-four minutes.

Confused, as my mind just wouldn't allow anything to particularly click at the moment, I reached into my back pocket and found a familiar screen informing me that I was, in fact, in the middle of a quarter of an hour phone call with Derek Souza.

"Oh. I must have pocket dialed you." I stated lamely, my memory doing me the favor of reminding me who it was I was supposed to call if I needed any help at this party.

"Yeah, I got that." Professor Souza rumbled, tone hard. "Come on. I'm taking you back to your dorm."

I'm sure that, if I were sober, I would have made a more rebellious effort against the tone he was using with me. Like I was his dumbass teenage child who had got caught sneaking out of the house. I might have even questioned the idea of getting into the car with my calculus Professor. Though I knew whole-heartedly that I wanted to, it still didn't shake the fact that, even if we had a seemingly more personal relationship than student and teacher, he was still just that. My teacher.

However, none of that registered, and I immediately jumped into the passenger side of his sedan as he held the door open for me, desperate to get as far from this damned party as possible.