From Street Punk To West Point Graduate

When I opened my eyes again, my daughter was standing in the doorway, once more holding hands with her bleached-blonde street-punk boyfriend.

They looked incredibly nervous, guilt practically oozing from their pores as they asked if I would bless their relationship.

I smiled faintly and looked at my future son-in-law. "I'll agree, but on one condition."

He swallowed hard, looking suspicious. "What condition?"

I pointed to the massive stack of college prep exams on the coffee table. "Get yourself into a top-tier university, and Ill personally pay for your wedding."

What?

Both my daughter and her boyfriend stood there, completely dumbfounded.

A year later, he got accepted into the Military Academy at West Point. Everyone in town thought Id struck gold.

I couldn't agree more. After all, in my previous life, this was the very man who started with nothing but manual labor and built a multi-million-dollar business empire from scratch.

My boy-crazy daughter, Kaitlin, had brought her bleached-blonde boyfriend back home again.

The two teenagers stood side by side in the entryway, looking so incredibly tense they didn't even know what to do with their hands.

Kaitlin forced a weak smile, keeping her head low. Her eyes were red-rimmed and filled with silent pleading.

The boy beside her had a messy crop of dyed-yellow hair, wore a simple oversized hoodie, and had a collection of cheap chain earrings dangling from his lobes.

He was barely eighteen, his face still holding the soft edges of youth. But standing before me, he looked utterly terrified and guilt-ridden.

My daughter, who had caused me nothing but sleepless nights, finally found her voice. "Mom, we love each other. Please, just let us be together. Im begging you."

She rubbed her hands together, her voice trembling as she poured her heart out.

In my past life, the moment those words left her mouth, I had slapped her hard across the face. Any parent who had worked themselves to the bone to raise an Ivy League-bound daughter only to have her bring home a street punk within her first year of college would have lost their mind.

Back then, I let anger consume me. I forced them apart with ruthless efficiency. But later, when I was set up and ruined by rivals, bankrupt and abandoned by every friend and relative I had ever known, it was this very punk who rode up on a rusty delivery tricycle to take my daughter and me in.

He used his bare hands, working brutal shifts hauling bricks, to carry our entire family on his back. Eventually, he built a publicly traded empire from the ground up.

Unfortunately, he had treated his body like garbage during his youth. As he aged, the physical toll caught up with him, and he left Kaitlin and me far too soon.

Now that I had been given a second chance, I had no intention of repeating my mistakes, nor would I let him work himself to an early grave.

But I couldn't play the saint too easily either. If I didn't set some boundaries for these two at their age, Id end up with a grandchild running around years ahead of schedule.

I cleared my throat, looking at the frozen, terrified couple, and spoke slowly. "How exactly do you plan on supporting my daughter?"

The second the words left my mouth, Kaitlin scrambled to answer. "Mom, I won't buy expensive bags anymore. No designer clothes, either. I'll get a job early to help support us..."

I rolled my eyes. Even in this life, I still felt that slap from my previous life had been thoroughly deserved.

"So, Austin, right?" I looked past her. "Do you think it's fair to let my daughter sacrifice her future like that for you?"

Austin, the bleached-blonde kid, shook his head frantically. "No! I want her to finish her education. Ill work two... no, three jobs if I have to. I swear I won't let her quality of life drop because of me."

Looking into his eyes, I knew he meant it. He was entirely capable of doing just that.

But this time, I wasn't going to let him ruin his health. "I will allow the two of you to date," I said calmly, "but on three conditions."

Kaitlin and Austin snapped their heads up, their eyes lighting up like stars.

They stared at me in absolute disbelief, the heavy dread on their faces instantly vanishing.

"Mrs. Smart," Austin stammered, "what are the conditions? I'll do whatever it takes, even if it kills me."

I pointed to the thick stack of prep materials and college entrance exams I had prepared beforehand, sliding them across the coffee table. "First, I am sending you back to school, Austin. If you can get into a university on your own merit, I won't just consent to your relationship; I will personally fund and host your wedding the moment you graduate."

The two teenagers stared at the books, completely stunned.

Kaitlin's joyful expression froze. She looked blankly at the massive pile of study guides.

Austin's face flushed a deep red. Kaitlin, suddenly defensive, snapped, "Mom, are you trying to humiliate him? Austin had to drop out because his family couldn't afford tuition! Aren't you just setting him up to fail?"

"Your love-blind brain is officially useless, Kaitlin. Listen to me carefully," I said, my voice sharp. "I am paying for his schooling. I will cover every single cent. But if he fails to get in, he packs his bags and gets out of our lives."

Kaitlin went quiet, turning to Austin with a worried, questioning look.

Austin's eyes were bloodshot. Anyone who didn't know him would think he was seething with anger over the perceived insult. But I knew him, and I remained entirely unbothered.

Then, with a heavy thud, Austin dropped straight to his knees on the hardwood floor.

"Mrs. Smart... I'll do it. I'll go back to school. I actually loved studying, but my family refused to support me, so I had to quit. I promise you, I will get into a university and make you proud."

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead firmly against the floor, a loud knock echoing through the room. That had to hurt.

In my previous life, I remembered seeing him steal whatever spare moments he had to read and study. Kaitlin had told me how deeply he regretted never going to college, but he'd never had the luxury of time. In this life, I was going to hand him that opportunity.

I waved him up dismissively. "Second, absolutely no intimacy until you both turn twenty-one."

The moment the words left my mouth, the two deeply-in-love teenagers flushed so red they looked like ripe tomatoes.

I rolled my eyes. At least they were still sweet and innocent.

"What? Do we have a problem with that?"

"No problem!"

"I agree!"

They answered in unison. I nodded and moved on to my final demand. "Third, I run this house. You both listen to me. If any of your toxic relatives come knocking, you do not interfere with how I handle them. No matter what."

Austin clenched his fists, remaining silent.

But Kaitlins protective instincts flared up again. "Mom, they're still family..."

So she knew just how awful his extended family could be.

I slammed my hand onto the table and stood up. "Those are my three conditions. Disagree with even one of them, and you can both pack up and get out of my house. And Kaitlin, if you walk out that door, you are no longer my daughter."

Kaitlin's eyes welled with tears, and she sank to her knees. I knew that despite her foolishness in love, she had ultimately chosen to stay home and finish her degree in our past life, eventually securing a stable job.

"Kaitlin, get up," Austin said, gently pulling her arm. "Those people don't deserve to be called family. Mrs. Smart is right. I need to cut ties with them anyway."

He wiped his eyes and looked up at me, still kneeling.

"I accept all three conditions."

I stood up and gestured toward the hallway. "Come on out."

Four middle-aged professionals stepped into the living room. I turned to Austin and introduced them. "These are your private tutors. Starting today, before you even set foot in a classroom, you will be cramming the entire high school curriculum. Do we have a deal?"

Austin stared at the imposing lineup of educators, swallowed hard, and gave a tight nod.

"Mr. Austin, please follow us upstairs. Our first session begins right now," one of the tutors said smoothly.

Before the boy could even process what was happening, two tutors took him by the arms and politely marched him up the stairs.

Kaitlin turned to me, trembling. "Mom, be honest with me. Are you doing all this just to drive him away? He's a street kid. How is he supposed to sit still and study like this? If you're just trying to torture him, it would be kinder to let him leave now."

Looking at my daughter's tearful, anxious face, I felt a sudden, powerful urge to shake some sense into her.

I clenched my fists to keep myself in check, silently chanting: I gave birth to her, I gave birth to her, I gave birth to her.

Taking a deep breath, I said coldly, "I have no intention of driving him away. But if he can't even handle this, he has no business standing by your side."

Kaitlin bit her lip. "But what if he can't keep up?"

"Then he'll have to work harder. Didn't he say he'd give his life for you? Let him prove it. You focus on your own classes, and if you keep whining, I will make you choose between us right now."

Kaitlin flinched. She was terrified of being forced to make that choice.

Austin was a resilient boy at heart. The only reason he had turned into a rough-around-the-edges street kid was sheer, desperate poverty.

He hadn't lacked guidance; he had lacked resources. His parents had passed away early, and the grandparents who raised him were gone too. If he hadn't put on a tough, punk persona, he probably would have starved to death, let alone had a chance to study.

The four tutors I hired were all senior instructors from the city's top college prep academy. They were fully capable of dragging his neglected education back on track.

Once I saw that Austin had adjusted to the grueling study schedule, I used my connections to enroll him as a transfer student in the honors program at the local high school.

On his first day, he looked clean-cut and sharp in a simple casual outfit.

I didn't force him to dye his hair back immediately; the focus needed to remain on his studies, not his style.

I figured that with the intensive tutoring he'd received, he would be fine as long as he kept his head down.

Meanwhile, I threw myself entirely into my business, determined to scale operations. With the hindsight of my previous life, solving complex corporate strategies felt like second nature.

Just as I signed a million-dollar contract, my phone rang. It was the high school.

"Are you Austin's guardian? He got into a violent altercation at school. Three students are injured. Frankly, I don't want a troubled kid like him in my honors class. You need to come in and transfer him out."

I smiled. "Sure. But in that case, please make sure none of your honors students use the new school library, considering my company funded its construction."

The line went dead silent. After a flurry of hurried apologies, the homeroom teacher quietly hung up.

I grabbed my purse, wearing a bold crimson dress as if marching onto a battlefield.

When I arrived, I found Austin standing outside the main office, looking defiant. His face was bruised, and his knuckles were badly scraped.

The moment he saw me, his shoulders slumped, and he looked down.

"Mrs. Smart..."

I waved him off. "Don't say a word. Let me go in and see what's going on. Brooks," I turned to my assistant, "go pull the security footage from the hallway."

While school security cameras weren't as advanced back then, this particular academy had recently installed a state-of-the-art surveillance system.