Page 124 of Midnight Curfew

“Why didn’t you run a few miles instead?” Sadie presses him.

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You wanted to smoke,” she clarifies.

“No, he had to.”

I look up, meeting Anna-Katherine’s gaze. Everyone turns their attention to her.

Her big, round eyes look timid, as if she didn’t mean to join in the discussion. “I couldn’t eat my healthy cereal this morning.” She offers a tight smile. “I had to have Pop-Tarts.”

“Same, sister,” Mason adds, chuckling.

But the words hit home more than I would like.

I couldn’t deny myself my vices. I had to conquer every new piece of ass that came my way and drink to escape the thoughts I didn’t want to have.

I couldn’t talk to anyone who loved me. I had to hurt others before they hurt me.

I couldn’t swallow my pride and go to my mother. I had to stay on those stairs that day.

“So freedom is discipline?” Anna-Katherine finally asks. “Control over yourself so nothing else controls you?”

I lower my eyes, trying to hide that I have to swallow a couple of times to wet my throat.

It was fun for a while. Doing what I wanted and pushing off anyone who got in my way, because there was more fun right around the corner. To distract me.

After a while, though, I wasn’t doing anything because I wanted to.

I was doing it because I couldn’t stop. We get addicted to the diversion.

Freedom…is having the discipline to do what we know we should.

My throat tightens, and I try to speak, but my voice comes out raspy. “Hypothetical. You’re twenty-five years old now,” I say, leading to the next assignment. “Who’s your mentor?”

Heading to the front of the classroom, I list the discussion points on the board.

“Who do you go to who loves you and will tell you what’s best for you?” I recite the list. “Who will teach you discipline? Not just tell you what you want to hear. Who is the example you measure yourself against? What do they advise you to do with your life?”

I cap the marker again and turn around.

“You can use your laptops for this,” I tell them.

They sit there, hesitant, but the discussion is over. I need time to think, and they need to be quiet.

“AK?” I ask her. “Music?”

She smiles, hopping off the windowsill and turning up the volume before settling into the reading nook with her book.

18

Callum

Looking up, I see movement through his window. Sophia is painting, and I think when she’s done, she’ll start all over just to stay in his classroom.

It really pisses me off that she likes him so much.

I did once, too. When he’s had enough, or when the real world creeps in and it stops being a hundred percent fun for him, he jumps ship. I’m not going to delude myself this time.