Misconduct(88)

It wasn’t until recently that I’d realized, looking up at Tyler, that my shell protected me from all the good stuff, too.

“I started arranging and counting things as a coping mechanism, a way to have consistency,” I told him. “To know what I could count on. Awareness of my surroundings, everything in its place…” I went on. “I didn’t like surprises.”

“You needed control,” he assessed.

I nodded. “Yeah. After Stiles and then the accident, Jack and I tried to keep it going, but as you saw online, I couldn’t get it together. My game fell apart. We sold our house and moved here, so I could have a fresh start and my brother could pursue his own dreams finally.”

Tyler pushed off the desk and approached me, standing tall above me and looking down intently.

“And what’s your dream?” he asked.

I inhaled a long breath and took my hands out from behind my head. Running one up his leg to the inside of his thigh, I whispered, “To not want you as much as I do.”





The next week flew by, fall conferences having started, and I needed to get ahead on revising lesson plans that I’d already completed last summer.

I’d expected that to happen, as classes don’t always go according to schedule and certain changes I’d decided to make at the last minute needed to be accounted for later. I didn’t mind how my personal life had changed or even how unpredictable it had become, but I didn’t want to lose control of my career. Being a good teacher was acceptable. Being a great teacher was my mission.

My sister, Avery, had wanted to teach, but I’d finally realized that I, too, was made for this. I enjoyed seeing my students engaged and interacting, and the rush of finally seeing them make a connection, discuss it, and ultimately teach one another fed my desire to do this every day.

Tyler had been out of contact a lot, being held up in constant meetings and campaign planning. He’d also had to take a day trip to Toronto on Monday that turned into two days away. His brother had stayed with Christian, and although I knew Tyler hated leaving him, he called and texted him regularly to check in.

In my classroom, I set up the laptop, positioning it in front of the three chairs at the table. Christian sat in one chair, playing on his phone, and I checked my watch, seeing it was four oh two, past time for our parent-teacher conference.

I then glanced at my phone, seeing no missed texts, so I hoped Tyler was on his way.

Bringing up Skype, I decided not to wait for him. I dialed Christian’s mother, knowing that she was expecting my call.

I was in no rush to see her face-to-face, though. We’d spoken on the phone and had e-mailed several times. She seemed like a great parent and wanted to be kept informed of everything that was happening with Christian. She even belonged to the social media groups and participated.

I threaded my fingers together, trying to push down the uneasiness I felt at facing her.

“Hello?” she chirped, coming on-screen, and I forced a smile.

Of course she was beautiful.

Her long black hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her ivory skin looked impeccable.

“Hello, Mrs. Reed,” I greeted. “I’m Easton Bradbury, Christian’s American History teacher.”

“Nice to finally put a face with the voice,” she commented with a bright smile.

“We’re still waiting for Mr. Marek,” I told her, “but he should be along shortly.”

She nodded, an aggravated look crossing her face, but she recovered quickly.

“Put down your phone, Christian. I want to see your face,” she ordered her son.

He rolled his eyes and set it down.

“I miss you,” she singsonged.

“I know,” he sang back, and we both broke out in a laugh at his sarcasm.

They chatted for the next few minutes, and I updated her on what we were currently studying and what we hoped to have covered by the end of the year.

Christian and his mother got along great, and I started to wonder a lot of things as I sat there, observing them. I’d never had so many insecurities as I had with Tyler, and I didn’t like it at all.

Did he ever regret letting her go? Had he once loved her? What would she think of me if she knew how I felt about him?

That one scared me the most. Christian was my student, and every day I hated myself even more for doing anything that threatened his stability and happiness. I was supposed to make his life better, and I was very close to turning it upside down.

Clearing my throat, I looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly four fifteen. Where the hell was Tyler?

I smiled, trying to keep the mood going.

“You look like you’re having wonderful weather there,” I noted, seeing the white curtains blowing in the breeze coming through the open windows behind her.

“Oh, it’s hot but beautiful,” she clarified. “There’s so much land to explore. I invited Christian to spend the holidays here, but he hasn’t answered me yet.”

She shot him a hinting smirk, and he sighed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know,” I teased. “Teenagers are hard. You might have to sweeten the deal. Ensure him he’ll have Wi-Fi.”

She laughed and turned her eyes to Christian. “We’ll have Wi-Fi.”

He tried to hide the smile, but I could see it.