Misconduct(10)

He lightened his grip and narrowed his concerned eyes on me, speaking sadly. “You’re lonely, Easton.”

I blinked, the sound of my breathing flooding my ears and echoing in my head. I felt like I wanted the ground beneath me to open and swallow me up whole.

Why would my brother say that?

I was alone, not lonely, and it wasn’t like he had room to talk.

And my life was good. My apartment was gorgeous, I’d graduated at the top of my class at Loyola, and I had just landed a great position as a history teacher at an elite private school here in the city.

I was going to be a part of the future, doing work that meant something.

And I was only twenty-three.

I’d been focused, and I was still very young. It wasn’t like there was any rush. It wasn’t like I was going to be alone forever.

He released me and sat back, pushing his sandy blond hair back on his forehead. “I just worry about you,” he explained. “I still think you should talk to someone.”

I sat up on my elbows and gave him a pointed look, staying calm despite the anger crawling its way into my chest. “I’m fine,” I maintained.

“Really?” he challenged. “And how many times did you go back to check that you locked your front door this morning?”

I rolled my eyes, looking away. I should never have told him. My little compulsions made my brother nervous.

Okay, so sometimes I liked to make sure everything was in its place. Sometimes locking my front door four times instead of just once made me feel safer.

And sometimes I liked to count things.

But the truth was I simply liked to be aware of my environment and the people around me.

And I managed my habit well enough that people didn’t notice. My brother probably never would have if I hadn’t told him.

“I’m not the center of attention anymore,” I reminded him. “Stop trying to keep me there, okay? I’m fine.” I pushed myself up and got to my feet, dusting off my butt as he also stood.

“My bathroom door handle broke,” I told him, inserting my earbuds in my ears before he had a chance to say anything else. “So I need to hit the hardware store.”

“Well, do you want me to look at it?” He slipped back into his gray T-shirt as I veered around him back toward St. Charles Avenue.

I shook my head, joking as I walked away, “You wouldn’t know what you were doing any more than I would.”

“You got something against just hiring a repairman?” he shouted after me as I walked.

I turned, dishing his attitude right back at him. “You got something against tutorials on YouTube?” I shot out, and continued with my life motto, which he knew all too well. “Always go to bed smarter —”

“— than you were when you woke up,” he finished in a mocking voice.

I smiled and turned on “Hazy Shade of Winter” by the Bangles before jogging out of the park.





I spent the hour after I returned home crouched down next to my bathroom door as I pored over the instructions on how to install my new doorknob.

Luckily I’d bought a general tool set when I’d moved into my apartment two months ago, after graduation, but the clerk at the store had suckered me into a cordless power drill, which I was enjoying way too much.

Knowledge made us stronger, and I liked being able to do things for myself. Every new challenge was a mental checkoff of something I wouldn’t need to learn later.

My brother, however, didn’t share my need for autonomy.

When I’d moved in, he’d bought me a coffeepot as a housewarming gift. I’d bought a fire extinguisher and a thirty-eight-piece handyman set.

He’d gifted me with a wine rack stocked with pinot noir, and I’d added two more dead bolts to the front door.

Our senses of self-sufficiency were different, but then they had to be. Our experiences were very different growing up.

I smiled to myself, embarrassment warming my cheeks as I drilled in the screws. I was glad Jack wasn’t here to see how this was possibly the most fun I’d had all week.

I may have gotten overzealous and split the wood in the door when tightening the screws, too.

And I may even have crawled around my entire apartment tightening any screw I could find before I decided to put my new toy away for the day.

He’d have me committed. Or at least send me on a forced spa day.

After eating a sandwich for lunch, I showered and combed my closet for an outfit for tonight.

The new academic year started tomorrow, and my students’ parents had been invited for an open house this evening at Braddock Autenberry, my new school.

Or my only school, as this was my first teaching position.

Having gotten my keys to the school a couple weeks ago, I had prepared the room, and it was all set for tomorrow. Tonight I could try to relax and tend to the parents making their rounds to the different rooms before school started in the morning.

Reaching into my closet, I picked out my red pencil skirt, which fell just above the knee in the front but was cut to drape just below the knees in the back, stitched with a slight ruffle there for flare.

Laying it on the bed, I dug back into the closet for my fitted black blouse. It had long, cuffed sleeves and buttoned up to the neck.

To finish off the outfit, my heels were plain black with a pointed toe. I twisted my lips at the sight of them, setting them on the floor next to my bed.