Page 26 of Possessive Mr. Pen

“I don’t think I’ll be ready tomorrow either.”

I take pride in my steady voice despite the emotions whipping through me.Mr.Carter’s face sours, but he nods as a reward for my truthfulness before eyeing Declan.

“Class begins in five.You staying or going?”

Delight sweeps through me.I haven’t been to a Friday night class in years.

Declan opens his mouth to respond, but the first group of preteens bursts through the front door in blast of sound.The surly man exits the building through the side door as though his feet caught fire.

“Coward,” Mr.Carter mumbles under his breath.

A snigger escapes me.

He tosses a black bundle at me and gestures to the ladies’ locker room.

“Thank you, sir!”

I rush through the door and close the shower curtain—the bathroom stalls are too small to maneuver out of this dress in—and change into the black unisex sweats.The sleeves and pants cover my limbs while the fabric billows loose around my body.I tie the drawstring waistband as tight as possible and loop the bottom of the sweater around itself before heading out to enjoy the hooligans.

If I had somewhere like this to be every Friday night, how much different would my childhood have been?While I know the security I feel stems from Mr.Carter, the cracked linoleum and worn equipment offer me peace, too.As a child, I would have looked around and thought this place was a palace.The fancy gym Connor—Mr.Pen, I correct myself—attends doesn’t appeal to me.I don’t belong there.But here?Here fits.

I don’t want kids of my own, but helping the ones that are already here?

Yes please.A thousand times yes.

Especially when it comes to empowering them by giving them the tools to fend for themselves and helping them build confidence.

With thoughts of my horrible day tucked into the recesses of my mind, I join the rambunctious crew and revisit parts of myself long buried.

Destiny Koch’s subdued face flits through my mind’s eye, and I text her as soon as class ends.

Her enthusiasm nearly overheats my phone.

I thank Mr.Carter before heading to my apartment for a few hours with Aisha and Momo.We catch up over a late-night snack then settle on the couch for a movie.I don’t last a full five minutes before falling asleep, but I enjoy my adopted sisters’ banter in my dreams as they argue over character growth—or lack thereof—and the value of old-school effects in action movies.

Momo calls my name a few times before patting the back of my hand.I jerk awake.The end credits to a different movie play on the television.I rub my temple to ease the pounding in my skull.

“What time—?”

“Bedtime, lovey,” Aisha whispers.

They pull me down the hall and join me in the matchbox bathroom for brushing teeth, washing faces, and braiding hair.

Concern flows through me, but neither shows signs of a relapse, so I accept their gesture for what it is—they miss and love me and can sense I need comfort, and this is the only way they know how—and enjoy their nearness as we prepare for bed.

When they stop at my bedroom door, I link my arms in theirs and tug them inside with me.We pile onto the bed just like when we were younger, except this time we have sheets and a mattress big enough to fit us all and a locked door between us and danger.

I sleep better than I have in a while but pop awake sweaty and alert.

After a punishing Saturday morning run, I shower and change into a casual outfit—blouse, slacks, and comfortable heels—before sitting down for my morning call with my sister.Despite the improvement from last weekend, she grows tired and begins repeating herself several minutes into the call, so I promise to visit her tomorrow and end the connection.

I complete a few errands before rushing across the city to one of the world’s largest art museums.Destiny waits for me between the massive columns at the top of the stairs.

We spend a few hours wandering through the exhibits until her stomach rumbles so loudly a tour guide gives her a dirty look.

She’s too sweet and shy for this world.I’m not sure how she pretended to be so spoiled at the gala.Her comments and insights around the museum prove her wit and humor are much more mature than her age.

We find a little café within the museum and enjoy a laidback lunch of upscale sandwiches.