Page 12 of Antagonist

In some respects, Megan is a lot like me. We feel deeply but don’t talk about it. I express myself through my work. She does it when she’s singing at the top of her lungs in the safety of her bedroom.

Her earlier wide but weary smile was a giveaway that something had happened at school. As was the tighter-than-usual hug that followed.

She wouldn’t tell me what happened, just that her teacher, Mr. Bradford, wanted to speak to me.

I didn’t ask if she was in trouble. Knowing her, she’d think she was at the mention of the word alone. I took her hand in mine and we walked inside the building.

My mind ran through a hundred scenarios, but I kept coming up short. She didn’t look hurt, just a little shaken.

If she’s being bullied when she’s only been at the school for a week, I’ll be having serious words with Mr. Bradford. Fletcher.

“Daddy.”

I look down at Megan, realizing we’re still standing in the classroom doorway.

“You’re squishing my hand.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I was distracted.”

“Mr. Davis, thank you for coming.”

I relax my expression, knowing I have a frown firmly in place. Stella always makes fun of it, saying she can read my frowns like lines in a book.

The man I only notice is also in the room when he calls my name, approaches us, extending his hand. “I’m Ellis Bradford, Megan’s teacher. Please, call me Ellis.”

“I…you’re Megan’s teacher.” It’s a statement, not a question.

You’re being rude, Harrison.The voice in my head sounds a lot like Stella’s. “I’m sorry, that was unbecoming of me. I apologize. Please, call me Harrison.”

He smiles, and I can see why the man is a teacher because I instantly relax as if my minor transgression has been forgiven and forgotten.

“Megan, can you help me with something?” he says to my daughter.

“Of course, Mr. Bradford.”

Ellis returns to his desk and picks up a book before coming back to where we’re now standing inside the room but still close enough to the door.

I feel Fletcher’s eyes on me, but there’s no way I’m looking at him. What is he even doing here anyway? Is he a teacher at this school? Ellis’s boyfriend?

“Megan, I need you to help me with your spelling skills, okay? The text on page fifteen has a bunch of errors. Can you find them for me? Just circle them with your pencil.”

“You should return the book if there are spelling mistakes, Mr. Bradford,” Megan says.

Ellis shrugs. “I know, but I want the class to do some practice, and I don’t have time to buy a new one. I know you’re excellent with spelling, so you’re the best person to help.”

“Okay.”

I bite a smile as Megan rolls her eyes but takes the book and goes to a desk at the back of the room.

And just like that, I’m left with no way out.

Fletcher is leaning against one of the front row desks, looking comfortable and confident.

He raises his hand to his chin. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns, in all the world, he walks into mine,” he says, and I let out an involuntary smile at the movie reference.

“No gin in this joint,” Ellis says, chuckling. “Although there are days…”

He shakes his head as if wanting to clear a particularly unpleasant memory and then turns to Fletcher and me.