7. Tristan
SEVEN
TRISTAN
With each tick of the clock above the Headmaster’s office, my jaw clenched and my teeth ground on each other in annoyance. I focused on appearing present in the conversation even though the woman had been repeating the same things over and over. My attention had been long lost.
After she called this morning to inform me that Ryker had been caught using drugs at the perimeter of the school, I had to calm myself in the parking lot before facing anyone.
First, because I didn’t want to lash out at Ryker, and second, because I knew a long conversation was waiting for me.
She kept rephrasing but ended up with the same conclusion every time. “Such a prestigious high school doesn’t tolerate incidents like this and I do hope you understand this is the last time I’ll turn a blind eye to Ryker’s destructive behavior.”
My body tensed in an instant, a vein on my forehead pulsing rapidly as I scanned the older woman in front of me. Dad always taught me how important it was to respect the others around you in order to be respected, but Hannah Conner had crossed a line.
Ryker might have been in the wrong, but that didn’t give her any right to talk that way about him.
She gulped, settling in her seat with her chest thrust out. “If he has problems at home, you could take him to a therapist. It’d do him good if you could join him.”
‘Problems at home’ translated to ‘problems with you’.
The headmaster was aware I was his legal guardian and for some reason, her even imagining that I might have been at fault for the way Ryker behaved lately had me on edge.
I got up to my feet, closing the buttons of my coat as I stared her down. She didn’t bother to stand up, satisfied to watch me from the comfort of her seat.
“Ryker won’t be suspended,” I instructed.
Her jaw fell to the floor, mouth agape as she pressed her palms onto her desk. “Excuse me? I’m sorry, Mr. Graves. Are we not speaking the same lang?—”
“Ryker won’t be suspended,” I repeated calmly. “That is, if the cameras in your office are still working and aren’t there only to collect dust. I believe admitting that one of your students takes part in ‘destructive behavior’ wouldn’t look great after six years with an immaculate reputation.”
When I realized I wouldn’t get anything else from her besides the shock etched on her features as she gazed at the camera in the left corner of the room, I walked myself outside.
Ryker was pressed on the wall, along with the sole of one of his shoes. His head moved in my direction, an unimpressed look resting on his face.
“Come on.” I tipped the exit with my head.
He obliged with a huff, quickening his speed. As soon as we walked into the chilly air, he put one finger into each of his nostrils and scooped out his nose ring.
My brother marched to our car as if I was the one who had just been caught doing drugs at school. He grabbed the handle of the door in an attempt to get inside.
I kept the car locked and stopped a few steps from him. He turned to me, eyes narrowed and lips pursed.
“If you tell me you didn’t do it, I’ll go back and confront her right now,” I said, even though his eyes were red.
His silence was an ordinary thing, but the kind he was giving me now was only for one reason—he did it. Instead of releasing the sigh rising in my throat, I put a hand on his shoulder.
“If you were curious about what smoking feels like, you could’ve told me and I would’ve given it to you. At home .” I stressed the last word, wanting him to understand what he did was not acceptable. But I was also not his enemy.
I knew what it was like to be curious about that kind of stuff and I preferred to have him try them in the safety of our house, not in school.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you or what to do to help, but at least talk to me about it.”
My eyes bore into his, hoping he was going to understand how serious I was. That I wasn’t saying this just for the sake of being a good brother, but because I meant it to the bone.
At his age, I made a lot of mistakes and acted rebellious, but communication wasn’t as big of a problem for me as it was for him.
I wasn’t the most talkative person… I’ll give you that. Still, Ryker simply didn’t talk. Ever.
My brother didn’t display any emotion, standing like a stone next to me. I took the car key from my pocket and opened it before rounding the vehicle and getting in the driver's seat.
There’s only so much a person could do, and when it came to him, I felt like nothing was working. No matter how hard I pushed his limits or how hard I tried to climb the walls he built around himself, I couldn’t reach him. He was too far away.
The entire drive home, Ryker didn’t even spare me a glance and I tried my best to give him a few minutes of silence before trying again.
When I parked the car in our driveway, he strode inside with only one destination in mind—his room. He could do that, but after he gave me something.
I followed him, entering the house and stopping him before he reached the staircase. “Ryke,” I started, and his shoulders tensed. “I believe you have too much freedom and it’s getting to your head. I haven’t got involved because I know you want to get back the years you lost, but that doesn’t mean you have to destroy yourself. Every night you sneak out, I act like I don’t see. Every time the headmaster calls me to ask if you’re sick again, I lie that you are. Every time you bring a girl home, I sleep somewhere else.” The words simply flew out of my mouth. They were directed at his back because he didn’t turn to look at me.
He stood like that, probably waiting for me to finish and dismiss him so he could go to his room, throw those earplugs into his ears, and stay like that until it was morning and he had to leave for school.
“Do you want me to act like a parent?” I asked, not knowing what else to say. “Should I take your phone for a week, lock your door and windows? Because I don’t know how the fuck to handle all of this.” I raised my arms, then let them drop back on my legs.
When I left New York, Ryker asked Dad if he could move with me. I remember I prayed for weeks he wouldn't agree, afraid that I was going to have too many responsibilities in my head when that was exactly what I was running from.
To this day, I thought he somehow knew I didn’t want to take him with me. When we moved into this house, it was almost as if he wasn’t there. He cleaned after himself, ate alone, and kept himself out of problems.
The stupid headmaster was right . I was the reason why he was as cold as he was.
“I don’t care,” was all he said before he strode on the stairs.
I opened my mouth to stop him, but I had no idea what to say.
Like every other day, instead of facing my demons and solving my problems, I withdrew into the safety of my office with a bottle of rum in my hand.
My eyes swept to the watch on my wrist.
Two p.m.
Usually, I started drinking after a whole day of work when I knew I had nothing else to do. Today, though…
Today I have a reason .
I poured myself some of the liquid and opened my coat for some fresh air, my eyes fixing on an old photo of me and Dad. I was around eight back then and it was the first time he took me fishing.
My fingers grabbed the frame and I brushed a thumb over his face. He was so full of life. No matter what life threw in his way, he always saw the positive side of everything.
He would’ve known how to handle Ryker .
The agony slashed at my chest and I gulped the liquid in one go.
He loved life, yet he stopped taking his pills when he had so many more years to live. Sometimes I believed he was a coward and selfish bastard for giving up, not once thinking about the people he left behind.
Why would someone cause his own death when they had everything they ever wanted? My father had a family, no financial issues and still, he decided it was better to bring his life to an end.
Coward .
I grabbed the bottle and filled my throat with rum until I was no longer able to swallow. I smashed it on the desk, my fingers holding onto it so tightly that my fingertips turned white.
When I decided to drown the rest of the bottle, my phone pinged in my coat pocket. I took it out with trembling fingers while my face burned thanks to the amount of alcohol spilled into my body.
I swiped on my screen, unlocking it directly on the conversation on the Unlock app. My phone had no other use besides our daily chats.
Haelyn Ross
OMGOMGOMGOGMG!!!!!!!! *shocked emoji*
Another one came right in.
Haelyn Ross
I JUST GOT AN EMAIL FROM GRAVES AUTOMOBILE COMPANY AND… *drumrolls emojis*
Haelyn Ross
I GOT THE JOB!
I’m excited, but the boss makes me nervous *grimace emoji*
I hope I’m faaar away from him
thank you for encouraging me to take risks
and for the orgasm last night *smile emoji*
My chest shook with a small laugh.
Usually, I used Unlock for hook-ups since at the moment I wasn’t ready for a long-term relationship or anything of that kind, but Haelyn had something about her that made you not want to let go.
When we talked about jobs the first time, I only asked her to come for an interview so I could see her sooner. Our conversations were somehow enjoyable and I was getting eager to know what she looked like.
It was hard as hell to keep my eyes from wandering over her deep brown skin. She had curls in her dark hair and her breasts had me wondering whether they were natural or not.
My fingers laid over the keyboard.
Should I have thanked her for the orgasm as well?
Instead, I tried a cheesy message.
Me
I knew you could do it.
And I would be more than happy to give you another one.
I locked the phone and placed it on my desk, a daring smile stretching on my lips as I decided to put her in the office right across mine.
Tomorrow was going to be fun.