A Noun

Chapter six: Misinterpretation

Mis•in•ter•pre•ta•tion
Noun
      1. The action of interpreting something wrongly.

"Leonard," Grandma began to scold as she saw Grandpa light his pipe while I was setting down his coffee on the wrought iron table and one for myself too. "-you better stop smoking that damn pipe." She told him before flicking him, making him chuckle as she went towards the door.

"I'm on the clock, darling. As soon as I light this I'm working."

She waved her hand, telling him that he was ridiculous before she shut the patio sliding glass door.

He was reading a page that was hot off the typewriter while I wrote another page of the novel.

We were cooking with gas now. The beginning of the novel was written. The climax was in full swing.

It was why when we heard Donnys patio door open, we both sighed.

But Donny respected our space for once. It was odd.

Finn was there and he was sitting with Grandpa. Pops and I anticipated that they soon would come over, but they didn't.

"Strange." I commented before beginning to type again, and Grandpa went back to reading the page I had written last.

Now, I'm not so sure on why the Campbells would watch us, but not ask to come sit. It possibly was because Donny suddenly knew that he was intruding, but they still stared at us often. It was as if they were waiting for the second we allowed them over.

I rubbed my eyes as Pops and I were still up just after sunset, writing away.

My eyes began to burn from the concentration and focus. But I knew I needed to continue writing for grandpa to have his novel, and for me to have the typewriter.

It was a story that flowed from me so quickly that I couldn't help but adore it. I burst with creativity each time I got to write after a long day of school.

But I needed to head on home soon.

Grandpa smiled sadly as I stood at their doorway, but knew I would be coming back the next day. "See you tomorrow, love. Get home safe."

I nodded and promised I would.

I felt awful for leaving. I truly did. But, I knew I would have to take my time writing the novel for him. Good things come with time.

———

Hayden barged into my room that night while I was reading. He carried his laptop in and set it on the bed.

He pointed to it as he spoke. "Can you fix this?"

I furrowed my brows and set down my book, marking its place with my bookmark before the hardback rested on my lap.

"When's this due?" I asked him as I picked up his laptop and began to read the paper he wrote.

"I don't know, like ten minutes?"

My eyes grew wide and I smacked his arm. "Idiot, do you work sooner! I would have more time to look over this."

I changed as much as I could for him, but his paper still was not great. I did as much as I could for him though.

He thanked me then went to leave my room. But he stopped two steps short from the door.

He swallowed and gnawed on his lip before he spoke.

"I'm really sorry."

In our entire lives between us, he rarely ever had told me that.

I was taken back and looked to my big brother. He looked really sorry. Almost guilty.