Professor Knowles {Complete}

Surprise.

Bey's POV

"Fuck. I'm sorry! I try not to make it obvious, but I can't help it!" Jay blurted out.

"You can help it, Jay, you can!" I replied softly.

"What if I don't want to help it?" Jay leaned in the chair, his elbows resting on his knees and arms crossed.

"Then you can't be in my class any longer. I can easily transfer you into another history course," I warned. Jay might think I'm being harsh, but I'm trying to protect the both of us. I don't want him attached to me and losing sight of what's essential at this stage in his life.

"You'd do some shit like that to me?" Jay furrowed his eyebrows at me in anger.

"If it comes down to it." I nodded my head yes at him, standing my ground.

"Is that all, Professor Knowles? I have to go." Jay lowered his tone. He wanted to cut our conversation short, but I wasn't having any of that.

"You are not leaving until we address these boundaries again. You have to promise me you won't cross that line." I put out my pinky finger and smirked at Jay. I could tell he was upset. I wanted to change his mood through my child-like antics.

Jay stubbornly looked at my raised pinky, not wanting to bring his to mine.

"I'll make the promise if you tell me YOUR story —since you already know mine. Answer every question I ask you." Jay negotiated. He was earnest.

I asked myself, what more does this boy want to know? I would be hypocritical if I refused to answer his questions because I pride myself on being open with my students. Also, it is a fair mediation. He can't just look up my life story online like I did his. After contemplating for a few seconds, I came up with my decision.

"Okay! Five questions max." I ruled. "Then, you PROMISE ME, Jay. I'm not playing!" I told him while crossing my legs and preparing to be drilled with questions. He chuckled and began.

"How did you grow up?" He asked. I could handle that.

"Well, I can say that it was the complete opposite of your upbringing. I grew up in an area called Third Ward in Houston, Texas. We lived in a mid-upper-class neighborhood. My father worked for a major company, and my Mother had her thriving hair salon." I reminisced.

"You don't have a picture of your Dad on the wall. How come?" Jay took another glimpse at my family picture on the wall and looked at me to respond. Here we go...

"Truthfully, I don't speak to my father. He wasn't faithful to my mother and had a baby by another woman. My mother put up with his infidelity for far too long until she finally had enough and divorced him. I told myself that I would never be like my mother in that aspect. I didn't want ever to be taken advantage of. It turns out that no matter how hard I tried to run from men like my father, those were the ones I ended up being with. Not by choice, of course, but just bad luck if that's what you want to call it." I shrugged.

"You've been cheated on a lot?" Jay assumes correctly.

"Yes, by several different men. I got over the other men who cheated on me, but my ex-husband destroyed me the most because I thought he was different than the others." I shook my head at the thought of him. I can't believe I'm even having a deep conversation like this with a STUDENT.

"My Mom was never married, but she was with my father on and off for several years before he went to jail. He treated her like dirt. So, I know what a heartbroken woman looks like. I had to look at one every day of my life. I don't ever want to be that guy to a woman," he confessed. That was very unexpected, and he gave off a surprised look.