47

47
Betty.

“Here, the last copy!” I ended up announcing to the entire class, instead of Adam Lewandowski, my colleague and most dreaded ex, when he was the one  I was supposed to speak to.

But I couldn’t bring myself to look him right in the eye or even have a proper conversation, even as he stood right next to me,  wearing that confident smile that gave me the ick; more annoying than the over-ironed blue tux he wore, and the few answer sheets he held in his hand. 

A few heads turned at the sound of my voice,  but that moment was cut short by Adam’s baritone command, “Start!” and instantly, the air became charged and serious.

I walked over to my desk, dropping the last question papers onto it, careful not to meet his ravenous gaze. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I was nervous around him. Hell nah! I never would. The sight of him simply repulsed me, that's all.
But then my mind has been elsewhere all morning. Michael. 

It's been three days since I sent him out of my house. Those three days have felt painfully long and silent. I kept trying to convince myself now and then that I didn't care about him, throwing myself into distractions but that never fully worked because no matter how hard  I tried to avoid thinking about him, something always pulled me back that moment, our gaze locked, me melting in his presence, his scent but then I ruin it all by pushing him away, out of my house.

I can still remember the hurtful look on his face and the way he walked away feeling confused, disappointed, and maybe even embarrassed.

He came to seek help but instead, I turned him away as though he were my worst enemy.

But what shocked me most was that I'd sent two men out of my house that day, Ethan and Michael, but only one of them kept haunting my thoughts like this.
Michael Bolton.
I swallowed hard, trying to stand straight as  I reassured myself that it wasn't because I had feelings for him, but simply because he came to me for help, not for a chance to get under my pants, at least that's what I hoped it was.

“I wonder if he ever got the help he needed!”I muttered under my breath, inaudible to people's hearing.

But Adam heard it. Because he shot his head up from his cellphone. “What did you say?” he asked, his tone sharp and curious.
I was tempted to respond with; MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS,  YOU CUNT!
But instead I said, “Nothing!” I croaked quickly, not looking up. But I could feel his gaze piercing me, he wasn't buying my answer and honestly, I couldn't care less.
Two minutes had passed and Michael was still not here. I stared at my wristwatch, I was about to start reading out the instructions when the door screeched open. 
My heart skipped, a beat when my eyes fell on Michael.
He walked in, his skin as pale as if he’d just stepped out of a freezer. The black t-shirt he wore hugged his biceps tightly, nearly making me drool his dark cologne wafting into my nostrils. He ran his hair through his tousled blonde hair in a reckless manner but it was seductive to me.
He looked disheveled but not drunk, he just seemed… troubled by something. Ignoring Adam, he strode past him sinking into an empty seat.

“Sorry… forty for coming in late, traffic was crazy!” he stated coldly.
I nodded, waiting for him to explain further or crack a joke like he always did but he didn't, instead, he pulled out his pen and notes scribbling something down.  He seemed so serious and cranky today. 
I scowled, this was unlike him, I wondered what had happened that day when he’d gotten home. Does this even have anything to do with what happened? 
“No issues, Mr Bolton,” I said, handing him a question sheet and an answer booklet smiling down at him. “You may begin.”
But he didn't smile back. Instead, he stifled minding his business. That was weird. All through the exam my gaze kept drifting back to him. I couldn't help it, I was simply concerned for him.
He wrote swiftly, almost angrily, his fingers trembling. 
An hour later when the time was up, I began to collect the scripts. I collected his script last because I wanted him to have enough time to write, I guess. And also I wanted to have a word with him. This time I didn't care who was watching. 
“Are you sure everything is okay? You look…pale.” I said with a concerned look on my face.
He paused. His cold gaze fixed on mine in a way that nearly scared me. 
“I'm good!” he said.

“Have you settled that issue?” 
He didn't respond.
“I'm talking to you, Michael.” I pressed, trying so hard to lower my voice knowing Adam was within earshot.
Just as I predicted Adam walked over to us. “Hey buddy,” he said to Michael. “I heard the sad news, so sorry man, I hope your father gets better.”

I widened my eyes in shock as I observed Michael's reaction, he remained silent, not even a gesture of acknowledgment to Adam.
Adam grinned foolishly and walked off.

“What's Adam talking about?”I asked Michael but he had already gotten up on his feet packing his books, his height intimidating.
“Check the news!” With that, he stormed off leaving me with more questions than answers.

I grabbed my bag and ran after Michael.
“Michael!” I yelled. “Don't you dare walk out on me!”
But he didn't stop. He kept moving like my words didn't matter.
“Please…”
This time he turned, his expression sadder than angry. “What do you want from me, Miss Betty?”

I halted biting on my lower lip searching for the right words to say to him.
“I just… I want to know what happened to your father.”

He checked his wristwatch impatiently, like I were a mere disturbance. “ Why do you care?” 
“Well…” I began, but my words faltered. I could feel my throat close up, I didn't want to reveal to him that I hate the way I cared for him. “I'm sorry I sent you away, I should have helped.”
My gaze was fixed on his icy blue eyes and he grinned to my surprise. “It's fine, when I got home to show him proof of my innocence, I found him in a coma.”
“Oh… my…” I gasped in shock. “I'm so sorry Michael.”
He let out a dry chuckle. “It's alright. Apparently, he had health issues but hid them from everyone. He didn't take his drugs for weeks and had an unreasonable amount of sex that triggered it.” 
The way he said sex, made my pussy tingle. 
Stop, now, Betty! I shouldn't be sexualizing this situation now.   What he needed was my support and that's what I would render to him.
“I'm so sorry, Mike.”
“Mike?” he repeated his brow arched in surprise. 

“Yeah… why?”

“I've never heard you call me that name,” he said and turned about to walk away when I yelled his name.
“Michael!”
He paused, turning to face me again.
“I want you to know that my door is always open, you can always talk to me about anything, I won't turn you away!”
He nodded stiffly and walked away, like my words didn't matter.
I stood there for a few seconds feeling like the most terrible person on earth, then I heard a thud of boots behind me.
I turned and nearly fell to the ground at the sight of Adam standing there like a ghost, wearing a stupid grin. Across his face.
“Are you stalking me?” I asked, disgusted.
“Do you have feelings for him?” he asked. I blinked twice, shocked at his question.

“What does that even mean?”
“Well, “he began, circling me like a predator who had just found its food. “I see you’re very concerned about your student, Mr Bolton. Don't you think telling him your door is always open is quite… Personal?”

I felt my cheeks flush immediately, I'd just been caught in my lies but I refused to be intimidated by him. “How about you mind your ducking business, imbecile!”
He stopped circling me, “I can't.”
 A bitter laugh rolled out of my lips as I folded my arms across my chest.
“And why is that?”
His lips turned up. “Well, it's because I still have strong feelings for you.”
Instantly I burst into loud humorless laughter. “You are sick, Adam. You need serious help.”
“Why don't you help me?” he said in a seductive way that made my stomach churn.

“You should focus on deceiving other girls, not me.”
"I would never try  to deceive you, B.”
“Professor Betty, to you.” I corrected my gaze with anger and hate.
He went quiet for a second before lowering his voice, almost whispering.
“I know your secret, your dirty little secret, Betty.”  

These words sent a shiver down my spine.