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Lock Step - Love Under Lockdown

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It took a little longer, but I didn’t want to drop my clothes since it had just rained. When I finally trudged upstairs, Phil was gone.

Diamond texted me. She wanted to know what I thought of her Tik Tok video. I said it was great, even though I had barely watched it.

The compliment was enough to get her going, I guess. She didn’t even ask how I was doing. She just sent back a barrage of texts about how many followers she had gained.

God! How many more trips did I have to take to the car?

Now I wanted some food and a shower and just to stop walking back and forth to the damned Prius. This time, I grabbed some more clothes.

Normally, I’d bring suitcases back to school during the last break. Now, though, I didn’t have them. Fortunately, the Prius was clean, so I just stacked them inside.

I had, unfortunately, closed one of my shirts in the trunk door. It now had a black mark on the sleeve.

Great.

Going back inside, I put detergent on the offending area, set the washing machine and threw it in. By washing it by itself, I was hoping to save the shirt.

Then I took the rest of the stuff upstairs. Phil was now sitting at the bottom of the stairs, vaping and looking at his phone. I stopped because he was in the way and he slid to the right without looking up. I walked around him.

Jeez, is this what I was going to have to put up with every day?

It was a good thing some of my high school friends lived in the area. If I had to hang around here all day, I’d probably go insane. But then again, I didn’t even know if I’d be able to see them, during a pandemic.

Avoiding Phil was hard enough, but Daphne seemed like the type to never leave to go anywhere. And my dad was working from home because his job had wanted everyone to quarantine. It was going to be crazy, being trapped with all these people.

I made one final trip to the car, then scanned it for anything I could’ve possibly missed. I lifted up seats and checked under them but didn’t see anything I’d forgotten. Finally, just as I was ready to lock the doors and be done with the whole ordeal of unloading everything, I heard the last voice I wanted to hear.

“Who is doing laundry now?” asked Daphne, on my way in. “Is that you, Tracianne?”

“Yes,” I sighed, exasperated.

“I’ll be happy to do some with the rest of the—”

“No, it’s fine, I got it,” I said, feeling obligated to explain now. “I just needed to spot clean something, and dry my comforter, because of the sprinklers.”

“Oh, okay. Let me know if you need any help, hon!”

I just nodded and said nothing, holding back from rolling my eyes or telling her that she wasn’t actually being all that helpful.

I was a grown adult and knew how to wash laundry.

God, this woman was already constantly up in my business.

I couldn’t help but compare her to my mom, a career-minded woman who had worked her way up from secretary to head paralegal at a large law firm. She wasn’t the type to sulk at home and hover over me. I didn’t know how my dad could have found her exact opposite in this Stepford-looking new wife, but it annoyed me that he had.

Walking past Phil, I got up the stairs and sighed, telling myself that none of this was any of my business. I was just a grateful guest staying here until I go back to school and get out of their lives. I had no right to judge them but at the same time, I didn’t want to have their new life rubbed in my face all the time, and now I had no choice.

“Hey, do you need help?” Phil asked.

“My car is empty now, dumbass!” I snapped.

“I’m just kidding,” laughed Phil. “Of course I knew that.”

What an absolute ass. It didn’t matter how hot he was, when he was that obnoxious. At least it kept me from temptation, since I wouldn’t want to hook up with a douche no matter how attractive I found him.

Growling to myself, I went into my room and shut the door. I threw down my stuff, flopped on the bed and tried to take a nap. This was going to be a very long quarantine.Chapter Four - PhilWhat a brat my stepsister was!

God, she couldn’t even unload her car without turning it into a big dramatic production. If she had just come inside and asked nicely, I would’ve been happy to help empty her car. But of course, she had had to insist on being the center of attention.

I spent the morning answering emails, eating breakfast burritos and generally looking at the Internet at stupid shit. It was relaxing, if unproductive.



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