“That’s not what I said. I said you could only come home if things were different. If I stop working such long hours, you stop your excessive spending, and we return to counseling.”
“Who put you in charge of this?” Mom snapped. “I own half this house and have just as much right to be here as you. Why do you think you can make demands of me?”
“Because I’m the one who stayed.” Now Dad’s voice boomed as well. “The person who leaves doesn’t get to set the conditions for reentering the house.”
I didn’t hear anything for a bit, and then Dad said in a more collected voice, “I won’t keep bribing you to stay with me, Teri. No more extravagant gifts, no more shopping sprees, and no more taking you at your word when you say you’re ready to be a wife and mother again. We’ve done this for years, long enough that both of us know you don’t need ‘a breath of fresh air’ or a few days at the spa to collect your thoughts. You need a life change. We both do.
“More than anything, I want you here with me and the girls. But not like things were. You can agree to come to counseling, where we’ll start working to save this family, or you can walk back out that door. The choice is yours.”
I held my breath, not wanting to miss a single word Mom said.
But she didn’t say anything. Her footsteps echoed through the house as she walked down the hall and into the entry. Without breaking her stride, she took a wild swipe at the decorative vase sitting on an occasional table. I held my breath as it shattered against the white tile. The dancing bits of red glass so captivated me that I missed Mom’s exit. The front door slamming startled me.
A ringing phone cut into the silence.
“Hello?” Dad said in a tired voice. “Yes it is.”
This was perfect. I could pretend to be coming home just now and Dad would never have to know I’d heard his and Mom’s fight.
I snuck back down the stairs, opened the front door, and closed it. “Hello?”
“I’m really sorry about this,” Dad said to whoever had called. I walked into the kitchen and found him glaring at me. “I’ll take care of it. Good-bye.” He clicked the phone off and remained planted there.
“What’s going on?” I asked in a too-chipper voice.
His hands shook. “That was your school calling me for the second day in a row, Skylar. Why aren’t you there?”
“I . . .” But how could I explain to my dad that I’d finally cracked and yelled at all my friends before storming out?
Dad shook his head. “You know, it doesn’t matter. Just get in your car and go back. I have enough problems without you failing senior year.” He turned and walked through the kitchen to his office.
By the time I unstuck myself and followed, I found Dad typing an email.
“You should be halfway to school by now,” he said without looking up.
“I know, I . . .” Dad’s fingers kept tapping. I set the paper Starbucks cup on his desk. “I brought you coffee.”
Now he looked at me. His eyes were the same dark cinnamon as my sister’s, and I felt a sharp pain in my heart. I missed her.
His thick fingers curled around the cup. “Why did you do this?”
I shrugged. “I wanted to do something for you. They had two kinds, both named after cities or mountains or something. I just picked the one I could pronounce.”
Dad continued to stare at the cup. I thought he would say something—at least “thank you”—but he didn’t.
And then he cried. I’d never seen my father cry. I’d never seen him be much outside of irritated, stoic, or distracted.
“I lost your mother, kiddo.” His tears turned to sobs. “I don’t think she’s coming back.”
21
I rang the bell and hoped for Cameron. He seemed my best shot for making it beyond the threshold. Footsteps approached the door and I leaned closer. Not Cameron. These were too slow and loud. It could still be fine. So long as it wasn’t—
“What are you doing here?” Connor asked, balancing on one foot. With the other, he kept Cevin blocked inside the house.
I set my jaw. “Look, I came to talk to my sister, and this time I won’t just turn away because you don’t think it’s a good idea. What if it was Chris staying at our house and there was big stuff going on in your family? Wouldn’t you want to talk to him? Wouldn’t you be annoyed if—”
Connor pushed Cevin back and stepped to the side.
I marched past him. “Thank you.”
Amy stood in the kitchen pouring a cup of hot tea. “Hi, Skylar. I didn’t know you were coming over.”
“Where’s my sister?” I said.
She didn’t bat an eye at my rudeness. “Upstairs. Connor can show you.”
Connor matched me stride for stride as I forged the staircase. “I heard about you and Eli. I’m sorry.”
“He doesn’t matter,” I said through gritted teeth. “Not anymore.”
“Did something else happen?”
I landed on the top of the staircase. “Let’s just say we need Abbie at home.”
Connor pointed down the hall. “Chris’s room is the second door.”
Chris must have heard us coming because his gaze was already fixed on the doorway when I arrived. Abbie sat at his desk, her face turned toward her open textbook. Now that I stood there, I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t thought this through.
“You can save whatever speech you have prepared,” she said in a bored voice. “I’m not going home with you.”
“You have to.” I wanted to sound forceful, but instead, my voice dripped with desperation.
“I’m fine right here, thank you very much.”
“You’re being incredibly immature. Not to mention a huge imposition on the Ross family.”
She glared at me. “They said it was fine if I stayed.”
“That’s because they’re the nicest people in the world. That doesn’t mean you should take advantage of them.”
“Whatever.” Abbie turned back to her homework.
“That’s it?” I said. “You have nothing else to say for yourself?”
Her eyes shifted back to me. “The baby is fine, by the way, thanks for asking. Very healthy. The heartbeat is in the one-sixties. It’s nice that you care.”
The Rosses took her to the doctor? Jealousy pecked away at my heart. She was my sister, I was supposed to do those things!
“Abbie, you know I care about the baby, but you haven’t wanted to talk about it. Remember all these months when I’ve been asking questions and you’ve shut me down?”
“I don’t recall you asking about the baby. You wanted to know when I was going to tell Mom and Dad.”
“A valid concern, by the way.”
I glanced at our audience. Chris fiddled with a bit of loose string, appearing as uncomfortable with this confrontation as me. Connor offered me a slight smile.
“You know what you should’ve been concerned about?” Abbie turned in her chair to face me. “Did you know I need to be going to the doctor every month? That I need to be taking vitamins?”
“How would I know that? I’ve never had a baby.”
“I could’ve hurt my baby, Skylar. Do you know how that feels?”
I sighed. This was a losing battle, a hopeless mission. I knew it when I left the house, but Dad had asked me to try. “Try and get her to come home,” Dad said, his eyes still red from crying. “Tell her I’m not mad about the baby, that I just want her at home.”
Fulfilling Dad’s wishes seemed impossible.
“You should come home,” I said, defeat lining my words. “Mom’s gone. Dad really misses you.”
Abbie snorted. “Dad doesn’t even know me.”
I clenched my fists. “Mom is gone—”
“You said that already.”
“Dad doesn’t think she’s coming home, Abbie. Don’t you care about that?”
She wasn’t looking at me anymore. She said something, but it was too quiet for me to hear.
“What?”
“I said, it’s not my fault.”
I blinked at her. “Of course it’s not your fault. Who said it was your fault?”
“Dad.”
“When did you talk to Dad?”
“I didn’t. He talked to Brian. He said it was probably good if I stayed here for now because Mom might come home sooner.” She picked at a spot on her jeans.
“That’s stupid.”
Abbie shrugged. “Maybe not. She left because of me.”
“She didn’t. You can’t blame yourself.”
Abbie looked at me, the fight gone from her eyes. “At some point, you have to stop blaming everyone around you. You have to take responsibility.”
“For yourself, yeah, but not for Mom.”
Abbie sighed. “Just go away, okay?” She turned back to her homework. “I’m not ready to come home.”
Frustration welled inside me. Didn’t we just have a breakthrough? I thought at any moment she might jump up and pack. “Why is it up to you when you get to come home?”
“Why is it up to you?” she asked without looking up.
I stared at the back of her head for a moment, stuck.
Connor touched my arm, as if to say, “You tried your hardest. Let it be.” I turned to him. He took my hand and led me away from Abbie. Mechanically, I followed him down the hall and stairs. When we reached the last step, I sat. Connor did as well.
“Why won’t she let me help her?” My voice emerged as barely a whisper.
He pulled me against him. “I don’t know.”
“I care about the baby, I just didn’t know to ask.”
“I know.”
“I should’ve just told Mom and Dad.” I clenched my fists, driving my nails into the flesh of my palms. “They would’ve known about the vitamins and the doctor and stuff.” I looked at him. “We could have hurt the baby, Connor.”
“But you didn’t. The baby’s fine.”
“No thanks to me.”
“Hey.” Connor coaxed my head toward him. He waited for me to make eye contact. “The baby’s fine. Abbie’s fine. She put you in a tough position and you had no way of knowing what was right.”
“Maybe if I’d given it a few minutes of thought, but I was too busy thinking about myself.” I envisioned my mom sitting on the couch reading decorator magazines while her two daughters snuck around with boys. She hadn’t seen because she didn’t want to. Just like I hadn’t pushed Abbie to tell Mom and Dad because I was too apprehensive about the aftermath.
Dad was right, I was just like her.
“I can’t do it.” I curled my head between my legs. “I can’t get my family through this.”
“You can.” Connor rubbed my shoulder like a trainer does a boxer headed into the ring. “You’re an incredibly stubborn person, Skylar. You can do anything you put your mind to.”
I uncurled and looked at him. “You really think so?”
He nodded and pushed his fingers through my hair, sweeping it from my face. “I do.” Our eyes locked and his hand paused on the back of my neck.
“I should go,” I said.
He nodded in agreement, but neither of us budged.
And then I was kissing him.
Who leaned first, how we forged the space between us, I have no idea. As soon as I realized what was happening, I yanked free.
“I’m sorry,” we both said, scrambling away from each other.
I burst out of the Rosses’ house and didn’t allow myself the luxury of slowing down until I steered my car out of the driveway and onto the road. Then I took several deep, calming breaths and tried not to think about how much I liked him, how much I wanted him to like me, and how badly I wished I wasn’t my mother’s daughter. With my genetic makeup, how could I ever make a relationship last?
22
My hands quivered as I set my tray at a vacant table for four. I popped open my bottled water. Could I really do this? How did one go about eating alone? Where should I look? Looking down at my food seemed to imply shame. Looking around might imply desperation for someone to join me.
I solved the problem by eating as fast as I could while perusing my English textbook. Tears stung my eyes. Were people staring? Whispering about what a big loser I’d become? I didn’t want to care. I wanted to throw back my shoulders and pretend to be the confident Skylar Lynn Hoyt I’d allowed everyone to see all these years.
What a relief to hear the bell ring. Such a relief that I forgot to avoid my locker.
The day of senior registration, when we all chose lockers next to each other, it never occurred to me that Eli, John, Connor, Jodi, Alexis, and Lisa might become the very six people I wished most to avoid.
Three of them—Jodi, Alexis, and John—already stood there when I arrived. I considered turning around, but of course they’d seen me. Avoiding them now would only make me look weak and ashamed, two things I wasn’t. Or at least two things I didn’t want them to know I was.
They stopped chatting and watched me spin in my combination.
“Where’d you get that skirt?” Jodi asked. I had my back to her and didn’t realize she’d spoken to me until she said, “Skylar.”
I turned. Lisa and Eli now stood at their lockers as well.
“I asked where you got your skirt,” Jodi said.
I looked down. I wore knee-high boots with a striped skirt that reached my calves. “I made it.”
Jodi’s mouth quirked into a half smile. “That’s what it looks like.”
Alexis giggled. “Really, Skylar. Doesn’t your dad make, like, seven figures?”
“But it’s not as bad as that ultra mini she has. The mint green one?” Jodi pantomimed gagging.
Tears burned my eyes. No one had ever poked fun at my clothes.
“Guys, come on,” Eli said, but quietly. Way to be a man.
“Or remember those barrettes last week?” Alexis laughed. “Those were so cool. When we were six.”
I turned away, not wanting them to see me cry. My shoulder smacked into Connor’s as I left our row.
“Are you okay?” he asked. I watched him note all my tells—the crease in the bridge of my nose, the twitching left eye. His fingers curled around my elbow. “What’s wrong?”
A barrage of responses bounced around my brain. My mother’s leaving made me feel more like a child than I ever had. It mortified me that Eli cheated on me. I was dealing with things I never had before, like eating alone and mean, beautiful girls picking on me.
But mostly, I thought it’d be easy to get my life back on the right track, and now I realized it wasn’t as simple as showing up to church. God and his plan for my life required me to do more. I didn’t have the strength to follow through.
“I’m failing,” I said to Connor.
“No you’re not.”
But he didn’t know what I did, that if I could snap my fingers and return to who I was before the summer—the untouchable queen of the cool kids—I would.
A few days later, as I cut through the junior hallway to get to the parking lot and escape high school for the weekend, I overheard a girl I didn’t recognize say to another girl I didn’t recognize, “Abbie Hoyt? She’s the sophomore with the really long, pretty red hair.”
“Okay . . .” But clearly she remained unsure who they spoke of.
“Well, anyway, she’s pregnant—”
“No!”
“Yes.” With her long, straight hair and blunt bangs, she resembled gossipy Alexis. “Marie said she’s actually moved in with the father.”
“Who’s the father?”
“Some new kid. Chris something. He’s a sophomore too.” She shrugged, as if this made him insignificant.
“I’m still not sure I know who Abbie is.”
“Remember our film class? Abbie’s the one who—”
“Whose sister is walking right behind you,” I said.
Both girls stopped walking and stared at me. The girl with all the information stammered, “Oh. Hi.”
“Oh, hi,” I mimicked. “Who do you two think you are, talking about my sister that way? And who did you hear all that from?”
“Marie.” Both she and her friend looked like they might pee their out-of-style-last-year pants.
“Marie who?”
“Marie Green.”
“And who did Marie hear it from?”
“She said she heard it at her boyfriend’s house.”
“Who’s her boyfriend?”
“Terrence St. James.”
Alexis’s brother. Of course.
“Stop talking about my sister,” I said, then turned on my heel to return to the senior lockers. There I assumed I’d find the whole gang exactly as I’d left them—debating whose cars to drive to the night’s kegger. Since all I wore today was dark rinse jeans and a black sweater, I hadn’t given them much fodder for their usual conversation.
Lisa had just suggested her Jeep and Eli’s Land Rover when I barged in.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, my eyes locked on Eli.
He shifted his weight. “What do you mean?”
“I suppose I should clarify, shouldn’t I? I could be speaking of so many things.” Everyone in the hall stared at us, including Connor, who was in the midst of loading his backpack. “It was told to you in confidence when I didn’t have anyone else to turn to. I didn’t expect to be walking down the junior hallway and hear two random girls discussing my sister.” Eli stepped backward as I came closer. “Marie told them. Do you know who Marie is?”
Eli shook his head. His back pressed flat against the lockers.
“Marie is dating Alexis’s little brother. I assume you told John and—”
“I only told Jodi.” Eli held up his hands in surrender. “I only told Jodi.”
“Which is worse!”
His gaze darted between Jodi and me. “She said she was worried about you. I didn’t want her thinking something was wrong with you—”
“So you told her about my sister?” I pushed him into the locker. Eli winced. “I would have rather you told her about Aaron than Abbie!”
“I’m sorry,” he stuttered.
“I made a lot of mistakes this year,” I said with an accusatory finger in his face, “but you were by far the biggest.”
Me, Just Different Page 17