Misconduct

He’d practically quoted me.

I felt something tighten in my throat. I couldn’t believe he’d done that. Not only had he remembered what I’d said, but he was using it in his platform.

No matter how much I told myself that I didn’t need him, I’d never thought that he might have need of me.

He’d hurt me by not choosing me, but it had never occurred to me that he was suffering from his decision, too. Even after he’d visited the classroom to see me, I’d still thought it was merely about sex.

I blinked, looking up, and found Christian sitting at his desk staring at me.

I straightened, evening out my facial expression, but he just sat there watching me like the wheels were turning in his head.

How long had he been looking?

The bell rang, and the students started stuffing their backpacks and jetting out the door.

“Okay, don’t forget,” I shouted, shooting up out of my chair. “Check out the new follows on Twitter in addition to your reading tonight!”

All of the students filtered out, and I sat back down, turning on “Paralyzed” by In Flames as I started looking over the tests.

“Ms. Bradbury?”

I looked up, seeing Christian standing on the other side of my desk with his laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

“Yes, Christian?”

He looked serious, and I took inventory of the room, seeing everyone else was gone.

“I don’t like Tessa McAuliffe,” he told me.

I tilted my head, studying him and wondering why he was telling me that.

“The TV commentator?” I clarified, and he nodded.

“But I like you,” he said matter-of-factly.

And something about the way he just stood there, holding my eyes, made dread creep into my chest.

Oh, no.

“I saw you and my dad in here that day after school at the beginning of the year,” he stated, a bitter edge to his voice. “I’d gotten done with soccer practice and saw that Patrick was here to take me home, but my father’s car was also outside, so I came to look for him. You were fixing his tie.”

Fixing his tie? I let my eyes wander as I searched my brain for that, and then I remembered. The first time… on the desk more than a month ago.

A month!

I opened my mouth, but every damn hair on my skin stood up, and I was scared. Shit! What the hell did he see?

I wanted to crawl under the desk. Had anyone else seen anything?

“You’re not going to lie to me, are you?” he asked.

I lifted my chin, though my dignity no longer existed. “No.”

“Good,” he shot out. “Everyone tries to handle me, and I’m not a baby.”

I licked my dry lips and stood up. “Did you see anything else?” I asked plainly.

I needed to know how severe the damage was.

He shrugged. “Just that it was obvious something was going on.” He arched an eyebrow at me. “I see how he looks at you. His face gets softer.”

I dropped my eyes and let out a breath. What a mess.

“I didn’t really care what the hell my dad did.” He sighed. “But I thought it was pretty shitty of you. You’re my teacher,” he pointed out. “My teacher.”

I nodded right away, looking him in the eyes. “Yes, I am.” I owned up to it. “You have every right to be angry.”

“People are saying that a lot to me these days, as if that makes everything better,” he threw back.

Christian was right. Mistakes can be forgiven but not always forgotten. And it was unfortunate that he was the one to suffer for others’ shortcomings.

“Why aren’t you seeing my dad anymore?” he pressed.

“Because it was wrong,” I told him. “Because life sometimes has too many obstacles. We betrayed your trust, and you’re the most important thing.”

He pinched his eyebrows together, looking like he wasn’t sure what to believe.

“Really?” he asked quietly.

“You’re the most important,” I repeated.

He turned for the door and started to walk away but then hesitated. “The thing is,” he turned back. “I started to like my dad more. He was trying harder.”

Was he insinuating that I had anything to do with that?

“He’s around a lot now,” Christian explained, “helping me with homework…” He nodded to himself. “But now he seems sad,” he mused. “I’m not sure why I care.”

Hearing that Tyler wasn’t happy hurt. I couldn’t lie to myself. I wanted him to miss me, and I wanted him to have given me up for a good reason. Christian was that reason.

Christian peered over at me. “When I go to the AP class, can you date my dad?”

I broke out in a small smile. “But then I wouldn’t be your teacher.”

“But you’d be around my house,” he retorted, perking up.

I relaxed, seeing that he was no longer angry. I didn’t know if he’d told anyone, but I wouldn’t put the burden of a secret on him, either. If he talked, he talked, and I’d have to deal with the consequences.

Unfortunately, though, he thought his father had moved on because of my relationship with his son, when, in truth, it went far deeper than that.

“I’m always here for you,” I assured him. “You always come first. Don’t ever forget that.”

TWENTY-FIVE

TYLER

I planted my hand on the ornate marble railing and took a sip of my whiskey, gazing out over the bustle of cars, carriages, and lights in the cool evening of the Quarter. Conversation and laughter drifted outside from the Halloween masque through the doors behind me, but I narrowed my eyes, watching the gutter punks in the doorway down on the other side of the street beg for beer money instead.