Page 3 of Delayed Penalty

Lawson: THAT IS NOT HELPING, KELLER!

Keller: LOL. You actually thought I was going to help you.

Keller: Get bent, Lawsy.

Lawson: STOP IT.

Lawson: HELP ME.

Lawson: HELLO?

Lawson: AM I TALKING TO MYSELF HERE?

Keller: Yes.

Lawson: *cries*

Keller: Your tears fuel me.

I chuckle at the absurdity of my teammates and their antics as my phone continues to blow up. I’m certain Lawson, our resident sunshine guy, and Keller, easily the grumpiest human I’ve ever met, are arguing back and forth. Knowing them, this is going to last a while,and usually, I’d sit around and watch their bullshit roll in and egg them on, but I no longer have that luxury. I have far too many responsibilities to take care of now.

I toss my phone onto the bed, right onto the spot that was rarely vacant before this summer. Ever since I gotThe Call, though, it’s been empty. Unfortunately for me, it will remain that way for the foreseeable future.

How the fuck can one phone call change so much?

I try to shake away the thought as I peel the sheet off me and rise from my massive California king-sized bed. I stop, listening for any sign of life or indication that my new roommate is awake, but I don’t hear a thing. The quiet both comforts me and sets my senses on high alert, which has me padding over to my dresser and pulling on a pair of sweats instead of parading around my own damn house in my underwear like I usually would. I can’t do that. Not anymore.

I put on a simple gray t-shirt, then open my bedroom door and look right.

It’s open.

I close my door and make my way to the bathroom because I’m going to need a minute before going out there and facing…well, my new shitty reality.

No. Not shitty. That’s an awful thing to say. It’s notherfault.

It’shis.

I shake my head as I wash my hands. Why doesfamily have to makeeverythingso complicated? Why do they have to screw shit up for the rest of us? And I don’t mean theOopsie, I spent too much money at the casino last night, could you spot me until my next paycheck?kind of screwup.

I mean thebigkind. The kind that means my one-bedroom apartment in the heart of downtown that I loved so much? Gone. My spontaneous decisions to go out and get plastered? Not happening. Summer trips to wherever the fuck I please? Never again. Doing whatever I want whenever I want? No longer a thing.

And it’s all thanks to my asshole older brother who couldn’t keep his life together for more than six months at a time. You’d think after all the shit we went through as kids with our parents, he’d have made better decisions, butof coursenot. He went and fucked his life up, then took mine down right along with him.

I brush my teeth with too much force while my new ward is presumably sitting on the couch, quiet as a mouse, just like every morning for the last few months. I finish my routine in the bathroom, then take a deep breath before moving out into my new living room with quiet steps.

After the court ruling, I knew one thing right away—I needed a bigger place. Now, I feel like a certified adult with a mortgage instead of a bachelor pad in the city.

Fuck, I miss my bachelor pad.

As soon as I round the corner, my eyes drift to the sofa, and as suspected, my new roommate is sitting right in the center of the giant black couch.

“Good morning,” I say quietly, tucking my hands into my pockets.

I hold my breath and wait for her to acknowledge me. It’s awkward, and I’m still unsure if that’s normal. How could I know? I’ve never had to deal with a kid before.

“Good morning,” Flora, my niece and new charge, whispers, flicking her big blue eyes my way for only a moment before returning her attention to the television.

I thought seven-year-old kids were supposed to be loud and rowdy, not sitting on the sofa watching the weather channel before eight AM. Apparently, Flora is the exception.

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