Relief filled me when I answered the final question and closed the packet. Stuffing my pen in the side pocket of my bag, I stood and walked the test up to her desk where she watched me carefully. “Finally finished?”
Teeth grinding, I nodded.
“Did you study for this?”
“Yes.” I paused. “Not as much as I would have liked.”
She looked at me with bored eyes.
“Can I ask you something, professor?” I was surprised by my own inquiry, but not as much as she was considering I tended to avoid any conversation with her if I could help it. When she didn’t answer, I went ahead and continued. “What did I ever do to you? Not my father. Not my family. But me.”
She blinked slowly, her body leaning back in her chair as she tilted her head. I didn’t like being studied, it made me uncomfortable, and she knew that. “You don’t try.”
My lips parted at the unexpected answer. “What?”
She repeated herself and added, “I’ve taught many people like you, Adele. Some of them worse, some of them far better. But you always folded into yourself when things got tough.”
“That isn’t true.”
“No?” She stood, flattening her hands down the purple blouse she wore. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt given the circumstances, which I’m certainly not known to do, but I thought I saw potential in you. However, I realized you were no different than others raised privileged. People go through far worse things and still make it out on the top, so coddling you helps nobody.”
“I lost my father. And—”
“Excuses.”
Anger bubbled inside me. “I keep to myself because it’s better that way, not because I don’t care or don’t try. All due respect, but you have no right to judge me as anything more than a pupil to educate.”
Clearly, it was the wrong thing to say because her lips tugged into a cocky smile. “Let me educate you then, my dear. Malik versus State. Heard of it?”
Of course, I had. George Malik was the state comptroller before my father took term as governor. They’d known each other for years, but my father insisted he didn’t know what Malik was doing with funds. I believed him. I still did. And sure, maybe that made me naive, but he was still my father no matter what happened.
“I have,” I answered carefully.
“Then I’m sure you know that Malik took more than just the funds he was responsible for. There was a very long list of those he hurt along the way. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Even the court system said his crimes were true, but where is he now, Adele?”
I wasn’t sure where he was because I hadn’t wanted to follow the story when it was all over the news. My father would sometimes mention it, but it was rare. Instead, we focused on each other. How our days were. How classes were going. If business was successful. I loved my father, but things between us, regardless of how close we were once, were restricted. Looking back now, it made me wonder if I was subconsciously preparing myself for the inevitable. He’d been too invested in the Malik case when he did bring it up, like he knew more than most people. There were answers I didn’t want, things I couldn’t allow myself to know because it changed how I’d feel about the man I looked up to my entire life.
“According to social media, he’s in Fiji with his wife celebrating their thirty-eighth wedding anniversary. Sweet, isn’t it?” The tone in her voice told me it was the opposite of that. “I find it strange that somebody who was so blatantly guilty could be out celebrating of his own free will. Don’t you?”
Trick question. “Does it matter what I think about it, Professor Ribbons? You’ve made up your mind about it already.”
“Are you telling me you don’t find that he deserved punishment?”
Straightening, I readjusted my bag and stared her directly in the eye. “My father went to prison, as he should have, for the misuse of authoritative power. So, do I believe a man I don’t truly know outside the media’s reports of him deserved some sort of reprimanding for his ill actions? Yes. Does that mean I’m shocked he didn’t? No. That’s not because I believe it’s okay that people could be bought off by false forgiveness and dirty money. It means that I’m aware of how faulty the system is. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Interest piqued in her features, her brows raising and eyes widening in the slightest way. “I didn’t put words into your mouth, nor did I place ideals in your head. We can both agree the system is skewed though, which is more than I thought I’d get from you.”
“This has to do with me not trying how exactly?”
Walking around her desk, she stopped just in front of me. “What did you do when your father was incarcerated?”
Why was that any of her business? “Did what I could to cope. Anybody would have no matter what circumstance they came from.”
“That’s a cop out. What did you do?”
“I…” Didn’t she watch the news? “I’m sure if you saw the media—”
“I’m giving you a chance to prove me wrong, Adele. Unless you’d rather me continue with my assumptions? You see, teachers talk. You used to be quite dedicated to your education here. In fact, I heard your academics were next level, second to the scholarship you were offered, but that wasn’t for your original major. What was that again?”
I said nothing.
“I believe it was business, correct?”
“If you know, why do you bother asking? I’m sure you also know it’s not business anymore since you’ve clearly checked up on me.”
“You got into this school because of your skills in dance and who your father was. Why don’t you do that anymore?”
I’d gotten into Bentley University because I was a talented dancer, not because of Anthony Saint James. If that had been the only case, administration would have probably found a way to kick me out, so their reputation wasn’t as tainted as my family name was. “Why do you care?”
“Who says I do?”
My eyes caught the time on the wall before I sighed, resigning to this pointless conversation. “I need to get going if I’m going to make my next class in time.” Turning, I stopped and gave her one last look over my shoulder. “I stopped dancing because I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. And maybe…maybe that was for more reasons than I originally thought.”
The scar on my stomach weighed heavily on me, but I fought to place my hand there. I was stupid, weak even, and the anti-depressants Ripley had put me on amplified how I felt. Did that excuse how far I let myself go? How badly I could have injured myself with those scissors, like slicing into my flesh would somehow help? No. I was ashamed, embarrassed, and a slew of other things for letting my emotions win. But I couldn’t change that. I could only hope that one day I could look in the mirror for a long time and not hate the person staring back.
The tiniest grin tilted Ribbons’ lips, but I couldn’t decipher what it meant. Not willing to think about it, I tipped my head and walked out before she could say anything else. When the breeze hit my face as I walked outside, I replayed the odd conversation that just occurred and shook my head.
I didn’t like Professor Ribbons, but I was starting to think maybe she didn’t hate me as much as I thought. She’d once seen potential in me, and I wondered if she still did and masked it under tough love. Then again, I wasn’t foreign to that concept and what she offered went beyond that. Her reputation didn’t help me think that I had an ally in her either, so, as always, I drew back into myself and tried brushing off the conversation completely, shooting Theo a text.