25. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jackson
I ’m sitting on my doorstep as I watch Lisette’s car pull up, and for the first time all day, a smile touches my lips.
Her head hangs low as she steps out of her car, and when she notices me, she sends me a smile.
“Yes, I’m waiting by the door for you,” I beat her to it as I rise to my feet. “I would say I missed you, but I’m really hiding from my responsibilities.”
She lets out a laugh as she slightly limps over to me; her laugh dying at the end.
“Hey.” I reach for her arm before she can pass me. “You okay?” I glance down at her foot.
“Yeah.” She pulls away. “Can you maybe not touch me?”
“Oh.” I take a step back as my hand falls to my side. “Sorry…”
“You’re good.” She nods at the end of her sentence before walking inside and considering we were just sneaking kisses yesterday, I have no idea what I missed.
I follow behind her before shutting the door. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“I would’ve if I wanted to.” She takes a step, but I swiftly stand in her way rather than grabbing her to keep her from walking away.
Leaning down, I catch her eyes with mine. “If you’re having a bad day, that’s fine. And if you want to have an attitude, then okay, but my day hasn’t been great, so I’d appreciate it if I wasn’t on the receiving end of your bad mood.”
Her shoulders sag before she looks down at her feet. “Sorry.”
“What’s wrong?” I reach for her face but stop myself.
“It’s been a hard week and—” She cuts herself off before shaking her head of her thoughts. “And you don’t deserve my bullshit. Sorry.” She forces a smile now as she looks up at me. “Where’s my favorite student?”
My eyes scan her face and she looks exhausted. “You don’t have to force a smile for me. You’re allowed to have a bad day.”
She looks off to the side, not saying anything. I decide to let her have her way as we walk further into the house, giving her the space she needs.
When I walk into the living room, the pile of laundry I was folding stares back at me.
“Woah.” Lisette stares at the load of clothes. “Did a tornado hit?”
I let out a defeated breath as I escape for the backyard. “I was stress cleaning, but then I got tired.” Sliding the back door open, Lisette follows behind me.
“Where’s Belle?”
“She’s spending the day with my parents.” I turn to see her reaction but she doesn’t give me one. “They picked her up from school after I told them about my day and by the time I remembered to update you, I figured you were already on your way here and we could just spend the afternoon together.”
A small smile grows on her face and I choose to believe it isn’t forced. “So you did miss me?”
Hiding my smile, I shrug. “I plead the fifth.”
She laughs quietly before trailing further into the yard. “Is this glass?” She gently taps her foot on the retractable safety cover on the pool.
“Polycarbonate or something like that,” I correct her. “I’m paranoid that Belle will fall in. She can swim, but you never know.” When I feel the hot sun on my neck, I pull out my phone and a few buttons later, the pool cover is being pulled back.
“Want to swim?” I glance over at Lisette, but she only shakes her head. I nod in return before pulling my shirt off. Stripping down to my underwear, I slip into the pool and as my body cools down, the pressure in my head eases.
I sit at the bottom of the pool for a few seconds, soaking in the quiet. When I breach the surface, I shake my hair out before swimming to the edge.
I feel Lisette watching me, and when I steal a glance at her, she simply smiles at me as she sits with her feet in the water.
“What?”
She shakes her head. “You’re nice to look at.”
I feel a blush cover my face and her smile widens. Stepping in front of her, I rest my arms on either side of her. “How much do you like your outfit?”
Her brows furrow as she looks down at her baggy clothes. When it clicks in her head, she looks back up at me. “Don’t pull me in there.”
I grab her waist but she inches backward. “No, seriously. I really don’t have it in me to wash my hair and I hate pool hair. Please don’t.”
I leave her be at the sincerity in her voice. “At least take these off.” I tug at her sweats she pulled up to her knees.
She looks down at her legs, her shoulders slouching.
I almost ask her what’s wrong before a smile is forced on her face. “Just say you want to see me in my underwear.”
I roll my eyes at her, a smile tugging at my lips. “I really just wanted to rest my head on you without getting you wet, but I’ll let you continue to believe I want to see you naked.”
“I appreciate that.” She nods as if she really is grateful. She toys with the drawstring of her pants, her eyes low. “You don’t get to see them, though.”
I hold her waist, a smirk on my lips. “Please?”
She only shakes her head, her smile gone.
Immediately, I move my hands from around her. “I’m sorry.” I take a step back, remembering she doesn’t want to be touched.
She shakes her head at me. “No, it’s okay.” Her eyes land on her pants again. “I just… don’t want to take them off.”
“Okay.” I nod in return. “I was only teasing. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
A smile touches her lips. She holds her hands out to me. “You don’t have to be so far.”
I take her hand and she rests it around her waist again. “Why are you having a bad day?” I keep my eyes on her, rubbing her leg, but she winces. My eyes snap down to her thigh and through her sweats I can feel something wrapped around her thigh… a bandage.
She keeps her eyes to the side as she slightly pushes my hand off of her.
We’re quiet before I find my voice. “When was that?” I ask gently.
She keeps her face turned to the side, remaining so quiet, I think she isn’t going to answer. “Yesterday,” she answers after a while, her voice just above a whisper.
“I was with you yesterday.” This wasn’t there and she said she wasn’t cutting herself.
“After I got home…”
I look between her eyes, her words from before about having a hard week loud in my head. “You’re lovable.”
Her brows slightly furrow as she glances over at me.
“At apple picking you said you felt unworthy of love.” I gently rub her leg. “Don’t let your dark thoughts consume you. You’re worthy of everything life has to offer.” I watch her carefully and after a beat a small smile touches her lips.
“Thank you for saying that.”
I keep my eyes on her before nodding in return. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I rest my head on her lap, careful to avoid her cut and she immediately runs her hand through my curls.
“Do you want to talk about what happened after we left the park?” I ask quietly, feeling for if she stiffens or shifts uncomfortably, but she doesn’t.
“I’m an addict, Jackson.”
I feel my brows furrow as I look up at her and she looks like she hates herself. “You’re sober,” I voice, her words from yesterday making sense.
She nods, her eyes low.
Tilting her chin up, I force her to look at me. “You should be proud of that.”
She doesn’t say anything, but she looks exhausted, so I lay my head on her again and hug her close. This girl is full of so much life. She lights up every room she walks into, and it physically pains me that she hurts enough to hurt herself.
“Nothing happened,” she speaks up again. “I’m just an addict. Everything chronically hurts and I can’t take anything for the pain.”
“You’re not just an addict.”
She doesn’t respond, but I can hear her suck her teeth.
“You’re not, ” I say more sternly as I hug her waist close. “You’re funny. You’re beautiful. You’re smart. You care about the fucked up shit in the world. You’re a good person. You’re an amazing sister and friend. You’re a talented artist. You’re a recovering addict, but that’s not all you are.”
She rubs my back gently now. “I’m also great in bed.”
I shake my head at her, but I don’t let her brush her pain under the rug with a joke. “Say it.” I pick my head up to look at her. “You’re not just an addict.”
She meets my eyes before pushing my wet hair off of my forehead. “I’m not just an addict.”
I give her a knowing look. “Like you mean it.”
She looks like she’s being tortured, but after a minute, she sits up straighter and holds her head high. “I’m not just an addict.”
“Good girl.” I kiss her hand and a blush slowly covers her face. Biting back a smile, I kiss her stomach before laying my head on her lap again. “I think you want to have sex with me more than I want to with you.”
She lets out a scoff, but I can feel her breathing faster. “So you’re admitting you want to have sex with me?”
I shrug. “Take your shirt off so I can see what we’re working with.”
She doesn’t miss a beat as she pulls her top off. I keep my head on her lap, not trusting myself to look at her.
“I hope you’re wearing a bra.”
“No, you don’t.”
When I don’t reply, her laugh touches my ears.
“Look at me.” She pulls my head up, and reluctantly, I let my eyes roam over to her. She’s in a sports bra and her perfect smile is on display. “Tell me I look pretty.” Her tone is as serious as ever although her smile is teasing.
“You look pretty.”
“And I’m the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen,” she adds.
I lean forward and kiss her chest. “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”
She pats my head. “You’re so well trained. Who’s a good boy?”
I break into a laugh before splashing water on her.
When our laughs sober, she runs a hand through my hair. “Why are you having a bad day?”
I feel my shoulders sag before wrapping my arms around her again, wanting her closer. “Belle’s school.”
“Oh, god,” she drawls. “What now?”
I stifle a laugh, appreciating her shared annoyance. “You know how they work on five different words every week for the little spelling test?”
She hums in response.
“Well we were practicing the wrong ones this week, so she ‘failed’,” I say in air quotes since I refuse to call my five-year-old a failure in anything. “They had a lot to say about it and apparently I’m an irresponsible father. I kind of got into it with them and lost my temper.” I roll my eyes, more upset with myself than them.
“They need to fuck off already.” She leans back on her hands. “Whatever you said was deserved.”
I shake my head at her words. “I told them not to call me unless it was an emergency.” I cringe at the reminder. “I need to call them back and apologize.”
“No the hell you don’t,” she counters. “Isn’t this the third time they called you this week? Enough is enough, stop being so nice and you better not call back.”
When I feel my headache returning, I rest my head on her lap again. “What made you get into teaching?” Shutting my eyes, I soak in the hot sun.
“It was honestly very impulsive.”
That doesn’t surprise me one bit, but I don’t say anything as she goes on, her voice easing the tension in my shoulders.
“My major was undeclared my first two years in college. I was dating this guy at the time and he said his job as a special ed teacher was hard and I didn’t believe him.”
She stifles a laugh as she thinks of something. “I really just did it to prove to him I’d be better at it than him.” She quickly goes on. “ But I also have always loved kids. I was babysitting in college to make extra money and after working with a few special needs kids, I knew I’d love my job and I did.”
I can feel her mood shift and I kiss her leg gently. “Would you go back?”
She takes a beat to think. “Maybe. I just saw a post about a school shooting in Florida and that shit is sickening.”
A chill runs down my back at the mention. I also saw that on the news and I nearly enrolled Isabelle in homeschool on the spot.
“That’s actually the reason I got fired, so maybe I wouldn’t go back.”
I lean up to look at her. “What do you mean?”
She shakes her head before explaining. “My school had a new protocol for that situation. Rather than boarding the door and hiding, we would listen for how far the shots were and if we thought we could get out of the building, we’d run with our kids or remain hiding.”
“ What?” I feel my eyes bulge as I watch her. “They made you practice that with kids ?”
“No, no.” She quickly explains, “Only faculty did it a few weeks before school started.”
I thought that’d make me feel better, but it doesn’t in the slightest.
“Unless the shots sounded like they were in my direct hall, I was making it out of that fucking building, especially since I knew I only had five or six kids, but when the year started, I had a wheelchair baby and that drill was all I could think about.”
I keep my eyes on her and she looks scared of the thought.
“I kept going over it in my head and there was no way I could make it out with five kids and a wheelchair, and I sure as shit wasn’t leaving her. On top of that, I had a nonverbal autistic kiddo who wouldn’t let anyone touch him. Majority of my plan depended on me carrying my smaller kids who wouldn’t run with me, but…”
She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head. “It was overwhelming and when I started drinking, I just spiraled. Then my depression was really bad.”
“That shouldn’t have cost you your job.”
She musters up a smile as she looks to the side. “The board didn’t think so.”
My heart sinks. “They reported you to the board ?”
She nods and I hate the disappointed look on her face because I know she feels that way about herself. “I thankfully didn’t lose my license, but I was fired and suspended from teaching for the school year. I was cleared for this fall but never got around to applying.”
When she looks up at me, a more genuine smile is on her face. “It worked out, though. I’d take tutoring your kid over public school teaching any day.”
As I focus on her, I physically can’t bring myself to look away from that smile.