by Ivy Wild
Plus, given my own past, I wasn’t sure associating with him was entirely safe for either of us. But, his offer was extremely tempting.
I sighed as I threw the Styrofoam container on the counter and grabbed a beer from my fridge. Closing the door, I looked at a picture of Sophie Strong I’d taped to the white metal. I missed my friend, but between trying to start her own music label and growing a human being, we hadn’t had much time to connect.
I looked around the loft. It was the same as it had ever been, but for some reason, it felt especially empty tonight. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t because I’d expected Silas to insist on coming upstairs. I also told myself I didn’t want him in my place, but part of me knew that was a lie.
I took a long swig of my Corona and popped the lid on my pathetic dinner. As I shoved a bite of the fluffy cakes into my mouth, I swiped my phone open and pressed my contacts. My thumb hovered over Sophie’s name. I so badly wanted to call her, but I also knew what she was going to say. She was going to try and convince me to let her hire me at her new label. And I didn’t want that.
It’s not that I didn’t like Sophie. I loved her like a sister. I just didn’t want a pity job. I had never been that girl and I wasn’t going to start becoming one.
A small part of my brain reminded me that Silas’ offer was likely a pity job but I shushed it, reasoning that Silas didn’t know about my circumstances as much as he claimed he did. And he wouldn’t just show up out of the blue to offer me a job just because he thought I’d fallen on hard times. That was absolutely not his style.
I pressed Sophie’s name, promising myself not to bring up my situation, but just frame it as being in need of guy advice.
“Sky! Is that you?” Her voice was clear and bright on the other side of the line.
“Hey,” I replied, trying to sound chipper and failing.
“What’s wrong,” she immediately asked. I smiled at how good of a friend she was and felt a pang of guilt for not reaching out to her more.
“Got some time for a guy conversation?”
“Um, only always. One sec,” she said. I heard a muffled voice on the other end of the line before Sophie said, “Stop it! Go buy a building or something,” with a laugh before returning to the line. “You there?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Tell Connor I’m sorry for stealing you away,” I said, referring to her husband.
“Psh, he gets me 24/7. He can deal for an evening. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
I shoved another bite of pancakes into my mouth before putting the phone on speaker, setting it down on the counter. “I’ve had a ghost show up from my past and I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“How do you want to feel about it?” she asked, putting emphasis on the word.
“Whatcha mean?” I said after taking another swig from my bottle.
“I mean, when Connor appeared back in my life, deep down I felt happy. But, my brain tried to tell me I didn’t deserve him and a host of other nonsense. So, how do you feel about this person?”
I pursed my lips. Soph always asked the hard questions. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t called her in a little while. I knew she would make me face things I wasn’t quite ready for.
“I don’t know,” I replied with a sigh.
“Yes, you do,” Sophie responded. “You’re just afraid to admit it.”
“I shouldn’t like him, Soph. We’ve got a history and it’s not a good one.” I twisted my lips. “I’m pretty sure he’s bad news.”
“Pretty sure sounds like not at all sure,” she said with a laugh.
It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t understand me and Silas’ relationship. I’d never shared it with her. I’d never shared what had happened with anyone. It was just too painful and it was easier to put that pain in a jar with a tight seal and bury it as deep as you could. Otherwise that sort of stuff would define you and the last person I wanted to define me was Silas Jenkins.
Apparently, I was quiet for too long and Sophie noticed. “I’m not sure you’re telling me everything, Sky. Which is fine, but just know that I’m here if you ever need someone to help carry the burden.”
“Thanks love,” I said to her honestly. “I know and I appreciate it.” I looked out my windows at the sunset with a sigh. It had started raining slightly, obscuring what would have been a beautiful view. My camera was within reach and I pulled it towards me and snapped a picture.
I wanted to tell Sophie everything, but I’d buried the hurt so far down, I wasn’t sure what it would do to me if I dug it up after all these years. But even still, her words rang true. Because that was my brain speaking. What I was feeling about this matter was totally different.
“I’m gonna think about what you said,” I told her.
“Okay, babe. Call me if you need me, okay? I can come over.”
I smiled and shook my head. “I’ve got to work tomorrow, so I’m headed to bed as soon as I finish eating. But thanks, love.”
“Sky,” she said, before I hung up the phone.
“Yeah?”
“Sometimes things really do happen for a reason.”
Sophie knew I didn’t believe that. I smiled sadly as I looked up at a framed piece of paper I had hung on my wall. It read, “You are the victim of a series of accidents.”
“Goodnight, babe. Love you,” I said and we both hung up the phone.
I tossed the empty container into the trash and finished my beer before grabbing my iPad and a blanket and curling up on the couch. It’d been a week since I’d last posted anything to my feed. I hadn’t had the urge to make anything new after I saw Silas the first time, but I was suddenly feeling the itch to create.
I cycled through my photo reel. A picture of a cardinal, a few leaves on the sidewalk, and a few horrendous selfies. I kept scrolling until I stopped on a photo of a cup of black coffee with a business card stuck out of it like some messed up spoon. It was perfect.
I didn’t have a rhyme or reason to my art, if you could even call it that. But I found the process of giving physical form to events I’d lived through somewhat therapeutic. And I loved color. Probably because I’d been born without it.
Past
“Would you just get in the car already?” Silas called out from the driver side of his white BMW. I held up my middle finger and just kept walking. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I’ll give you a ride for free. Just get in the damn car.”
I lowered my hand and paused for a moment upon hearing him say those words. I’d only been around Silas for the better part of a few hours, but he didn’t seem like the type of person who said he was sorry. My legs moved me towards the car door and I was helpless to stop myself.
I climbed into the car and closed the door, hugging my backpack close to my chest.
“You’re doing it again,” Silas chided as we zoomed off down the road. “Curling in on yourself.”
I shrugged, feeling like I wanted to disappear even further into the seat if that were possible. I stayed quiet even though I could tell he wanted me to respond.
“I don’t get you. One moment you’re feisty and the next you’re quieter than Martin Shkreli on the witness stand.”
I turned and gave him an odd look.
“What?”
I just shook my head and he chuckled. “Surprised I keep up with the news?”
I just shrugged. I was thankful that the ride back to our neighborhood was only a few minutes. I really didn’t want to talk to Silas. I was pretty sure that the more I was around him, the worse my situation was going to get.
“What? Can’t talk to me all the sudden?” he goaded.
I rolled my eyes at him and he smirked. We blew past the turn for our neighborhood and I found my voice, turning around to point frantically at the missed road. “Hey! You missed the turn!”
“Relax,” he said in that smooth voice of his. “I’m hungry. So we’re going to get food.”
I shrunk back into my seat, upset at the fact that I h
ad to spend any longer in the car with him. “Don’t you have a personal chef or something?” I let the words slip out and I instantly regretted saying anything to him.
“Why would you think that?”
I kept my gaze forward but there was no way I could avoid the question now. “The Touper’s have one. I just short of figured that everyone that lived in the community did.”
I was referring to the ridiculous gated community of which my mother and I were the newest members. The ten houses that made up the development easily took up a hundred acres of prime real estate outside of the city for nothing other than manicured lawns and gardens. Which was dumb, because the community was gated, so it wasn’t like anybody was going to drive by and admire the view. Rich people confused me.
“We’re not all the same, you know,” Silas replied.
I shrugged. “You all seem the same to me.”
“That surprises me, Skyler. Of all the people, I thought you would be the last to judge someone by something outside of their control.”
I grit my teeth as the anger in my chest started to expand. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten in the car with Silas. I should have flipped him the other bird and kept on walking. I knew it was only a matter of time before he brought up my “condition,” as it was called, but there was a small part of me that liked the fact that he hadn’t seemed to notice or care about it, yet. Another disappointment.
“So, what? Because I wasn’t born with melanin in my skin, I’m suddenly required to be some sort of Saint who is incapable of judging people?”
“Is that what that is?” he asked, acting unbothered by my outburst. “I just thought you were really blonde.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” I snapped back at him. “I don’t need your pity.”
He pulled the car into a nearby parking lot and I reached for the handle, but he locked the doors. I turned back to look at him and crossed my arms over my chest. He was as calm as I’d ever seen him. “I don’t pity you, Skyler. If anything, I envy you.”
“That makes no sense,” I said.
He shrugged his shoulders. “So you have albinism. It’s always going to be the first thing people notice about you. And that’s a good thing. People are simple, Skyler. We all like to point out that others are different just so we can feel more included. And what makes you different is on the surface. Everyone’s always going to point out the same thing, so you’ll never be surprised. When your differences aren’t as obvious, people start searching for them. Trying to get to the bottom of you. Understand what makes you tick.
“And that’s when people start coming up with different answers for what makes you different. Imagine going through life constantly being told you don’t measure up for a million reasons.”
He turned and fixed those dark brown eyes of his on me. They were so at odds with his light complexion and I couldn’t help but stare back at him.
“Be glad your differences are only skin deep.”
I stayed quiet. Trying to process what he’d said to me. No one had ever spoken to me like that before. And I hated that his words made the tiniest bit of sense. They also made me sad. Because it seemed like, as much as that comment was directed at me, it was more about him than it was about me.
“Come on,” he said, an easy smile sliding onto his features. “I’m buying.”
I looked around and realized we were in a Chipotle parking lot. We didn’t talk except to order our food to go and the entire ride home was silent.
When he pulled up in front of the Touper’s house, he idled the car and fixed those dark eyes of his on me. “Don’t be late with the homework,” he said. “You can drop it off at my house the day before things are due. I don’t want anyone seeing you give it to me at school.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Thanks for the food.”
He winked at me and I slid out of the car faster than a bad celebrity marriage.
All I knew was that Silas Jenkins was hot around the edges. I didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out if his center was as frigid as mine.
* * *
I watched Skyler until her form retreated behind the Touper residence. I hadn’t meant to bring up her condition. To be honest, I didn’t really care about it one way or the other. She clearly did, though. And the hurt that was evident on her face when I brought it up had me searching for some way to smooth things over.
And damn, didn’t that make me angry.
I prided myself in not doing things for other people. Not because I was an asshole, but in my experience, people on a whole didn’t deserve my time.
I gripped the steering wheel to my BMW as I grit my teeth.
I didn’t even know this girl’s last name, but for some reason, I was concerned about hurting her feelings.
I cracked my neck and sighed as the tension left in audible clicks. I didn’t have time to worry about a snow white girl named Skyler. She wasn’t the woman in my life that mattered.
That woman was currently sitting alone in a hospital bed and I needed to make my way there before visiting hours ended. Because apparently, even if your mother was dying of Huntington’s disease, that still didn’t entitle you to any extra time.
How fucking ironic.
I looked at my watch and peeled away from the Touper residence. I’d spent too long on Skyler and how I felt about her. Which was not at all.
My stomach growled as I made the drive to the hospital, but I resisted the urge to grab my food. I hated eating dinner alone. The first time my mother had been admitted to the hospital was the first time I’d eaten dinner alone in my entire life.
And it was a lonely fucking existence.
They say traumatic shit gets imprinted into your head. Ask someone where they were when the towers had been hit or when they learned Carole Baskin was going to be on Dancing with the Stars, and they’d spout off the most intimate details about their living room.
I couldn’t remember any of that shit.
But I did remember the first time I had to eat dinner without my mother. The first time I had to fall asleep in my father’s lonely ass mansion, knowing she wasn’t there, but across town in a hospital bed under fluorescent lights.
That was the type of shit I remembered.
It’s probably why I was so fucked up.
I managed to find a parking spot on the first level of the garage and made my way inside. The routine was familiar now and most of the staff knew me. I plastered a smile on my face as soon as the automatic doors opened, washing me in the smells of disinfectant and human misery. By the time I’d made my way to my mother’s room, I’d winked at nine nurses and excused myself from three pointless conversations about their children—or cats. I couldn’t understand which was which to these women.
“Hey mom,” I said softly as I entered the room. She was lying in the bed with her eyes closed. I hated that the hospital insisted on keeping the large fluorescent lights on. How anyone was supposed to sleep and get better when they were staring into the sun constantly was beyond me.
Her eyes fluttered open at my words. They were big and brown, just like mine. Her and I used to be so much more alike, but her diagnosis had changed both of us. I’d become a callus bastard that had kept his looks, and she’d become a more compassionate woman, while her looks faded. The glossy flaxen hair I remembered her having when I was a child was all but lifelessly gray now. It made me so fucking angry at the world.
People on the internet post stupid ass pictures of sunsets, daring anybody to deny God exists. Like the Earth continuing to move around an orbit was somehow a miracle. I’d like to post a picture of a son watching his mother and the only friend he had in the world die slowly in front of him for no reason and ask people to convince me God does exist.
“Silas.” Her voice was beautiful and I kept my mask firmly in place. I didn’t want her to see how sad I was to see her this way. “I told you not to come on school nights. What about your assignments?”
I shook my head and made my
way to her bedside, pulling up the nightstand and placing our food on top. “I’ve got an arrangement worked out,” I said, choosing not to give her any further details. “I’ll be able to visit you more often now.”
She narrowed her brown eyes at me, but held her hand out for a chip. I smiled and brought the bag up to her. She was so very weak these days and even in just the past week, she seemed to be worse. Her skin hung loosely on what little muscle hadn’t withered from her body and I smiled bigger.
“Silas Jenkins, son of mine, please tell me this arrangement is honest.” Her accent leaked through and her tone was chiding. Because she knew me better than anyone.
I leaned back and snapped a chip in my mouth, chewing slowly. I thought about Skyler and wrinkled my features. “Depends on your definition of ‘honest.’”
My mother rolled her eyes. “You know my definition of honest. Sounds like it’s dependent upon your definition.”
I shrugged and gave her my best smile. She shook her head and laid back down in the bed. “Such a heartbreaker,” she said. Her words were light, but even still, I hated feeling like I’d disappointed her in any small way.
“It’s fine, mom,” I said reassuringly, putting my callused fingers atop her frail ones. “Please don’t worry.”
“I never worry about you, Si,” she said, calling me by my nickname. “Of everyone in this family, you’re the most put together.”
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cold fingers. “If that’s true, we’re all fucked,” I said with a laugh, leaning back in my chair and grabbing my burrito.
I’d stopped bringing my mother a dish of her own. She never had much of an appetite anymore and I knew wasting food made her anxious. She grew up in a small Italian village in Northern Italy, bordering Slovenia. Most of the town were farmers and those who couldn’t farm left or joined the Mob. That was just the way of the world for her growing up.
“Language, Silas,” she scolded, her voice weak and unable to carry the fiery Italian attitude I remembered from my youth.