Page 27 of Awakening the Sheriff

During the car ride back, we kept talking, never an awkward moment between us. If someone had asked me a few weeks ago, I would’ve said I didn’t need more friends, that the group I had was enough. But as I talked and laughed with Keaton, I changed my mind. He was different, and our budding friendship brought me something I hadn’t found with my other friends. It was hard to describe the feeling, but maybe it was a result of our connection being new. All my friends had known me for most of my life, but I was building something from scratch with Keaton. Was that why it felt so much more exhilarating, why I couldn’t wait for a next time?

Whatever it was, I was determined to hang on to this man and this friendship.

10

KEATON

The scent of chalk dust and old books wafted through my classroom as I sat at my desk, hunched over a stack of essays. The walls were adorned with colorful posters of grammar rules and famous quotes while sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting striped shadows on the worn linoleum floor. A gentle hum came from the ancient radiator in the corner, the only sound in my blissfully quiet room. I loved these moments after classes when the kids and the noise they brought had disappeared and I had a few moments to myself before facing the challenges awaiting me at home.

“Symbolism inThe Great Gatsby” was the topic I’d assigned my students, and the variety of interpretations they’d come up with never ceased to amaze me. Some had obviously copy-pasted from various sources, but others had used their creativity and imagination. Those essays were like a balm for my weary soul, reminding me why I had become a teacher in the first place.

As I scribbled notes in the margins of one paper, offering encouragement and constructive criticism, my phone vibrated on the desk with an incoming call. The screen displayed Auden’s name, and my heart skipped a beat, a mix of anticipation and anxiety bubbling in my chest. Why would he call me when he had to know I was still at school?

“Hello?”

“Keaton,” Auden said, his usually calm tone tinged with concern. “I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I had to arrest Byron for shoplifting at Billy’s.”

My heart plummeted, and a cold sweat broke out across my brow. “What?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so. Can you come down to the sheriff’s office? Byron is here as well.”

“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

My hands shook as I ended the call, the essays forgotten in my panic. As I rushed out of the classroom, my mind raced with questions and doubts. How could Byron do something like this? Hadn’t he learned anything from his close call in Atlanta?

Perhaps most terrifying of all, how would I face Auden after this? The humiliation of my failure as a parent burned in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. How had I not been able to prevent this?

I stepped out of the high school, my heart pounding, and crossed the street to the sheriff’s office. The brisk air cut through my thoughts, sharpening the reality of the situation. I would’ve given anything for this to be a bad dream, but it wasn’t so.

Auden stood waiting for me in the lobby. Was it my imagination, or was that pity in his eyes? It beat judgment, but I didn’t want him to see me that way.

“Keaton,” Auden greeted me. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

His voice was steady, professional, but I sensed the underlying tension.

“Of course.” My voice wavered slightly.

“Let’s talk in my office.”

I followed Auden into his office, where he closed the door behind us. Thank goodness for that. At least no one else would witness my humiliation.

“What happened?”

Auden sighed. “He was caught stealing candy and gum at Billy’s. Jeff, the owner, called me in and left it up to me to handle the case.”

“Did anyone else see it?”

That shouldn’t be my biggest concern, I knew that, but how would we face the people in this town if they all knew what Byron had done? His classmates, my fellow teachers, heck, literally everyone? In a small town like Forestville, news traveled fast.

“Brianna was there, but she won’t say a word. And I drove my truck not the cruiser, so we’d draw less attention.”

He’d thought of the ramifications, then, which lightened the pressure on my chest a little. “Thank you. You said Byron was here?”

“He’s in the holding cell, stewing for a bit.”

I stared at the pattern on the hardwood floor, unable to meet Auden’s eyes as he leaned against his office desk. The steady ticktock of the wall clock echoed in the silence. The image of my son in a cell was almost too much to bear. What had I done wrong? How could I have failed him so badly?

“Keaton.” I looked up and met Auden’s eyes, which showed nothing but concern. “You need to face this head-on. Byron is at a crossroads now. If he continues down this path, things won’t end well for him.”

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