Page 76 of Misconducts & Temptation

Keaton finally lit the cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face before it settled into a dull glow. He took a deep drag; the smoke curling around him like a protective shield. I watched him for a moment, feeling the distance grow between us with each exhale.

Without another word, I turned and headed to our room. The hallway seemed longer than usual, every step echoing in the silence. My mind was a chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions, but I pushed them aside as best as I could. Homework. That was something tangible, something I could control.

I closed the door behind me and flicked on the lamp by my desk. The soft light filled the room, casting gentle shadows on the walls. I pulled out my textbooks and notebooks, spreading them out in front of me like a barrier against the confusion in my head.

I focused on the equations in my math book, letting their logic and structure calm me. Numbers had always made sense to me in a way that people never did. They were predictable, reliable. As I worked through problem after problem, I felt some of the tension in my shoulders ease.

But even as I tried to concentrate on my homework, memories of the evening kept intruding. Keaton’s touch, his breath against my skin—it all felt so immediate, so real. I shook my head, forcing myself to refocus on the page in front of me.

I scribbled down an answer and moved on to the next problem. The rhythm of writing and solving helped steady my thoughts. For a while, it was just me and the numbers, a small island of clarity amidst the chaos.

After finishing a particularly difficult equation, I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes. The weight of everything pressed down on me again—my stepfamily's cruelty, Keaton's complicated world, and my uncertain place in all of it.

I sighed and glanced at the clock. Time had slipped away from me as I worked through my homework. It was late now, and exhaustion tugged at me. But at least for a little while, I had managed to push everything else aside and find some measure of peace in the pages of my textbooks.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, I allowed myself this small reprieve.

The restof the week dragged on, each day heavier than the last. The whispers followed me everywhere, like shadows I couldn’t shake off. By now, everyone at Crestwood knew I was Keaton's wife. It wasn’t a secret anymore; it was the talk of the school. Heck, it was probably the talk of the town.

I walked through the hallways with my head down, trying to ignore the murmurs that seemed to swell around me. "Gold digger," they called me, their voices dripping with disdain. I hated it, but what they said about Keaton was so much worse.

"Did you hear? Keaton's such an idiot."

"Why is he still hanging out here? Everyone knows he can't make the NHL."

"I bet she's just using him for his money."

"He probably doesn’t even care about her."

The words cut deeper than I'd expected. Even my professors treated me differently now. Where they once saw potential and promise, they now saw a scandal. Their eyes lingered on me a bit too long during lectures, their questions laced with a new edge of skepticism.

In my chemistry class, Professor Langston called on me more often than usual, as if testing whether my marriage had somehow diminished my intelligence. "Elodie," he said one day, "can you explain the molecular structure of benzene?"

I took a deep breath, feeling every eye in the room on me. "Benzene is composed of six carbon atoms forming a hexagonal ring, with alternating double bonds," I answered clearly, refusing to let them see how much their scrutiny bothered me.

But even as I spoke, I could feel the whispers ripple through the classroom like an undercurrent.

The locker room wasn’t any better. My job there had always been solitary work, but now it felt like a prison sentence. The other attendants avoided me, and the athletes looked at me with a mix of curiosity and pity.

One afternoon, while scrubbing down the benches after practice, I overheard a conversation between two JV hockey players. They didn’t notice me as they talked by the lockers.

"Did you hear? Keaton’s been avoiding Lola since the wedding."

"Can't blame him. That girl's got claws."

"Yeah, but marrying Elodie? What was he thinking?"

I clenched my jaw and focused on my work, scrubbing harder as if I could erase their words along with the dirt and sweat.

Keaton remained a mystery to most of them, and their theories about his motives were far from kind. Some said he was rebelling against his father; others thought he was just trying to stir up trouble.

By Friday afternoon, I felt like I was suffocating under the weight of their judgments. The school that had once been my sanctuary now felt like an arena where every glance was a challenge and every whisper a weapon aimed at my heart.

The whispers and stares from my classmates were a constant hum in the background of my life now. It was like I had become some kind of exhibit for everyone to analyze and dissect. But I never said anything about it to Keaton. He had enough on his plate, and the last thing I wanted was to add to his burden.

As I finished up my job on Friday, I told the other attendant, Jamie, that I'd lock up. Jamie gave me a sympathetic smile before leaving, but I could see the relief in her eyes. No one wanted to be around the scandalous girl any longer than necessary.

I moved through the locker room with methodical precision, putting away equipment and cleaning supplies. Each task grounded me, gave me a sense of control amidst the chaos my life had become. The smell of disinfectant mingled with the lingering scent of sweat and damp fabric.

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