Professor Jay
Iris took a deep breath as she logged into her computer and noted the green icon telling her Jay was online.
Jay. A man who was definitely older than her, had started out as her tutor and now was her crush. More a fantasy than a crush, really, as she considered how dark and depraved her dreams of him had become.
Her best friends, Bristol and Oakley had been making fun of her again today, telling her he was probably eighty with bifocals, a sweater vest and long grey hairs coming out of his nose and ears. Yet, she told herself it didn’t matter to her if he was. She felt a strong connection to his intellect and charm not to mention his very sexy deep voice.
His kindness during the time he had taught her in the online class she had signed up for to learn basic Mandarin had become what she felt was at the very least a strong friendship. They had never seen each other in person. They had never met anywhere but on the college forum and now on this messaging app. Yet, she felt more comfortable with him than she did any man her own age. It didn’t matter her girlfriends were laughing at her behind her back and in front of her face. Jay made her happy.
The audio of her messaging app starting ringing and she smiled as she clicked the icon to answer the call.
“Hello Jay.”
“Nǐhǎo, Iris. How was your day today?”
Every week he asked her the same question and she always shivered with excitement. Her very first conversation with Jay, she had been captivated by his voice. It was masculine and strong and smooth. The way he said her name Iris made it sound foreign and exotic instead of the plain bumbling nerdy receptionist she was.
“It was really good,” she replied wishing her accent was near as good as his. Her basic conversation skills had improved over the last two years, but it was nowhere near as fluent as she would like. “How was your day? Did you do anything exciting?”
“My friends and I went boating today. We had lots of laughs. What a did you do, Iris?”
“I had to work today.”
“And after work? You are logging in this evening later than usual. We usually talk around seven and it’s nearly nine.”
“Well, it’s Friday and my friends insisted we have cocktails at a bar near our offices.”
“Were you drinking?”
“It was happy hour. I had a couple of drinks.”
They had had multiple conversations about her friends and her hobbies, but this was the first time she was telling him of going to a bar for drinks. The first several months of his tutorship involved them talking about foods, travel directions and how to get from point A to point B in the language her mother refused to teach her. As of the last eight months or so, their conversations had become a bit more detailed with her telling him where she worked and what she did, her age and a brief description of her appearance.
“Were you safe? New York can be a dangerous place for a young woman. I do not like the idea of you parading around in bars.”
She flinched as she felt the censure in his words. Was he angry with her for going out with the girls?
“I’m twenty-four, Jay. Hardly a child who needs to be supervised when she goes out. Besides, my two best friends were with me, and my best friend Oakley’s older brother Wade was there.”
“How old is this Wade fellow?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“And was he the only man in your group?”
“He had his friends with him. We shared nachos and wings. It was fun.”
He was quiet, his breath sharp as he inhaled at the comment. “Fun?”
“Yes. Fun. I’m allowed to have fun, Jay.”
“I thought you were a studious girl working to find her way out of her boring reception job.” He switched to English as if wanting to make sure he was understood.
She frowned at his comment, “I can be a both. Simply because I like to laugh and have fun doesn’t mean I’m not also studious and serious. There is a time for both.”
“Hmph,” he grunted at her.
“You went on a boat ride with friends today Jay and you had fun.”
“I was not exposed in a bar with drinking men who were very likely looking to take advantage of a young woman and her virtue.”
“Virtue?” she blinked at his phrasing. Maybe Oakley was right. He probably was eighty years old, and he was judging her for going to a bar because in his day women stayed home and raised babies.
“You are a nice girl, Iris. I do not understand why you would put yourself at such risk.”
She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t nineteen-fifteen, Jay. I was safe. I was with my friends. I didn’t take a drink from anything other than the ones I ordered, and I never left my drinks unattended.”
“This world is a dangerous place, child. You need to be cognisant of the fact bad men see a nice girl and want to defile them.”
Him calling her a child rankled. How old was he? “Defile?”
His voice got low, growly in a tone she had never heard him use before and her eyes rounded as she absorbed his following words.
“Iris, women like you who are sweet, and gentle make a man with bad thoughts want to ruin you. They would take you home, ravish you for days and make you forget your own name. They will keep you as theirs and never let you see the light of day as they make you a slave to their desires.”
She gulped at the heat of his words.
“Jay.”
“Enough. I am not comfortable knowing you would deliberately put yourself in a bar where men could accost you or seduce you. Is this what you were looking for, going to a club? Were you looking to be seduced?”
His tone was biting, and she immediately wanted to apologize but bit it back. She didn’t owe him an apology. She’d done nothing wrong. “I went with my girlfriends for a couple of drinks. I wasn’t out looking for a man but even if I was, what is it to you?”
“Are we not friends? Can a friend not voice his concerns for you?”
“Do you go to bars to seduce women and ruin them, Jay?” She didn’t know where the question came from and as soon as she blurted it, she wished she could take it back. His sharp breath made her feel she had crossed a line.
“Would you like to find out?”
She felt her cheeks burning, grateful they had never opted to turn on the video. She was shaking at the bold question he’d turned around on her. She swallowed nervously unable to answer him. How had this conversation escalated the way it had?
“Cat got your tongue, little Iris?”
“Why are you being so mean?” she whispered suddenly. “You’ve never spoken to me like this, and I feel like you’re deliberately trying to get under my skin and make me uncomfortable. Why?”
“Why did you go out with boys tonight?”
“It’s not any of your business,” she insisted. “You say you’re my friend, but we’ve never met, and I don’t know anything about you other than you’re a college professor who teaches Mandarin and likes fishing. I don’t even know if you live in New York State or if you live in London, England. You’re a person I know on the internet. My teacher. You don’t get to pass judgement on me for behaving like a typical twenty-something-year-old woman.”
“I am making it my business, Iris.”
“Why?”
“I like you.”
“If you like me so much, then why have you never asked to meet me in person?”
He exhaled slowly, “I worry you will meet me and be worried about our age difference.”
“Are you truly so old? What fifty? Sixty? Seventy?”
“Forty-one.”
“Same age as my mother. She had me at seventeen.”
“See. I’m as old as your parents.”
“My father is much older than my mother. He is fifty-five. They taught me age is but a number.” She was feeling suddenly very bold. “Meet me for coffee? Tomorrow? It’s Saturday.”
“I can’t.”
“Because you are in another country, and you’re not really interested, and this is some weird long form of catfishing?”
“Because I am otherwise engaged tomorrow.”
“That’s fine. It was just a thought,” she paused, “uh, I think my parents are here to see me.” She sighed. “I’ll talk to you next week.” She wondered if she would truly talk to him the following week and she tried not to feel sad when he hung up without anything other than a “next week”.
She reminded herself despite her crush he was only her teacher. Why then did she inexplicably feel as if she had just lost her best friend.
