by Kelly, A. S.
Skylar is sitting on the window ledge, gazing outside with those damn earphones in her ears, filling the room with that tinny shit she listens to every day.
I gather my courage and approach her, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. She jumps, turning towards me and yanking out the earphones.
“Dinner’s ready,” I tell her, sinking onto the bed.
She nods, fixing her eyes back out the window; but she doesn’t put her earphones back in. At least that’s something.
“I was just talking to your grandparents, downstairs,” I begin; no reaction. “Granddad says that you can do whatever you want with this room.”
She turns to face me with an undecipherable expression. I plough on – at worst, she’ll tell me to fuck off, something I’ve recently and quickly grown used to.
“It used to be your Aunt Rian’s bedroom,” I say, looking around, “and it’s definitely not your style.”
“What would you know about my style?” she asks, one eyebrow raised.
She’s challenging me: and I have no means of defending myself.
“Oh, please. Have you seen this place?” I say, attempting indifference.
She glances at the walls, before letting her gaze land on me again.
“What can I do with it, exactly?”
“Anything you want.”
She looks at me, unconvinced.
“You can repaint the walls, change the furniture, hang up whatever you like. It’s your room.”
“Does that mean we’re staying here?”
“It’s yours for as long as we’re here, and you can decorate it however you want.”
“Can I paint the walls black?”
“Black?”
She nods.
“Maybe more of a dark blue?”
She glares at me, and I sigh. “You can do whatever you want.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? Just ‘okay’?”
“Were you expecting me to throw my arms around you?”
“No, that would’ve been too much. Okay is fine. The rest of our stuff arrives next week, so you’ll have all your things back.”
“I don’t know if I want them here.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re memories.”
“And you want to get rid of them.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’ll make it easier.”
I sigh, disheartened. “I don’t think it’ll make it easier, but if you want, we can keep everything in the garage until you’ve decided. And we can go out and buy whatever you need here. We can go into town, or to the Letterkenny Shopping Centre – there might be a better choice there. It’s only about twenty miles away. We can go and spend the day there, if you want.”
I’ve given it my best shot.
“That doesn’t change the fact that I hate you.”
“I would never have dreamed of it.”
“And I hate this place.”
“Trust me, that makes two of us.”
“Then why are we here?”
I sigh, and decide to tell her the truth. “Because I didn’t know what else to do.”
Skylar grimaces, but doesn’t hit me with one of her cutting remarks.
“Come on, let’s go downstairs. Dinner will be on the table.”
I get to my feet as she slides down from the windowsill, throwing the earphones onto the bed and shoving her phone into the pocket of her jeans.
I should say something. I should tell her I’m sorry, that I never wanted this to happen, that I wish I could help her get through this – but the truth is that I’m not the right person to do it. It’s like Tyler said earlier: I’m not capable of commitment, let alone of taking care of a teenager. I want to tell her that I’ll sort everything out; that one day it won’t hurt so much, and she’ll be happy again. But I don’t know that for sure, and I don’t want to keep lying to her. So I stay silent, like an idiot, watching her leave the room and go downstairs to join her grandparents.
I don’t know whether everything will work out, just as I don’t know whether I’m the right person to take care of her, but I can’t turn my back on her. I can’t ignore this commitment, pretend that she’s not my responsibility. I can’t abandon her.
Skylar needs me. And I need to find a way to help her, to make her understand that I’m here for her – even if she doesn’t want me around, I’ll always be there for her, even if she doesn’t believe me.
Niall
When I come downstairs, Tyler has just arrived, and is handing a bunch of flowers to my mother.
“Tyler Hayes, you are always such a gentleman.”
“I picked them from my garden.”
“I’ll go and put them in a vase.”
Mum walks away as I grab my half-finished beer from the kitchen counter and open the fridge to get one for him. I open it and hand it to him, as he thanks me with a nod. He takes a few sips right away.
“Hey!” he says to Skylar, who’s leaning against the counter with her arms folded across her chest. Her expression tells us quite clearly that we shouldn’t do anything to piss her off.
“I’m Tyler.” He holds out his hand, and she looks at it, almost disgusted. “I’m an old friend of your dad.” This piece of information doesn’t interest her.
“Talkative,” he says, turning to me.
“You have no idea.”
“I can hear you, you know,” Skylar whines.
“I meant for you to hear me,” Tyler shoots back.
Now we’re having fun.
“Tell me your name, again?”
“Tyler,” he says, smiling.
“Well, Tyler, why don’t you go and fu—”
“Dinner’s ready!” My mother’s voice floats in from the dining room. “Come on, everyone sit down!” she calls, but we pay no attention.
“What an attitude,” Tyler comments, amused. “Reminds me of someone.”
“She’s nothing like me,” I say, defensively.
“I wasn’t talking about you.”
“Who, then?” I ask him. Tyler has never met Skylar’s mother.
“Hey! Where’s that useless dickhead?” Her voice rings out from the hallway, turning everything around me to shit. “Here he is! The loser himself.” Rian is standing in the kitchen doorway, her hands on her hips and a victorious smile playing at her lips. “Come crawling back to Mummy with your tail between your legs, have you?”
“Always good to see you, Rian.”
“Cut the bullshit. You’re not fooling anyone.”
“Wasn’t all that New Age hippie stuff supposed to make you more peaceful?”
“I’m definitely more at peace with myself – but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with arseholes like you.”
“See?” Tyler interjects. I have to admit that, alongside always being right, he seems to have grown wiser and more perceptive with age.
“Well, look who it is! How come you’re here? Are Mummy and Daddy out dancing tonight, and you didn’t want to be all on your own?”
Tyler laughs; nothing ever fazes him.
“I’ve come for a playdate with Niall.”
“Are you having a sleepover, too?”
“Please don’t give her any more ammo,” I moan.
“You can shove your ammo up yo… Who’s this?” she asks as her eyes land on Skylar. “Is this some sort of joke?”
Skylar watches her alertly, scrutinising.
“Maybe I should stop being so hard on you,” she says, turning back to me. “You’ve dropped yourself in the shit all on your own.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“You’re all here!” My mother steps back into the kitchen after no one appeared in the dining room.
“Oh, Rian, you’re here. Let’s all sit down, then.”
“Hi, Mum.” Rian goes over to her and plants a kiss on her cheek. “What’s that amazing smell?”
“Chicken pot pie.”
“My favourite,” Tyler says, glancing warily at my sister, who
appears to hate him as much as she hates me. Apparently, all that New Age, yoga, meditation crap has done nothing for her – she’ll hate anyone, with no reason at all.
“Come on, dear,” my mother says, placing her hands on Skylar’s shoulders to guide her into the other room. My sister approaches me.
“That girl is not okay,” she says, her voice strangely serious.
I thought she’d come to insult me.
“You think?” I ask sarcastically, irritated.
Great. I really needed my eighteen-year-old sister to make me feel even shittier than I already do.
“She needs help. And I don’t exactly think you’re the right person for the job,” she adds, before leaving me alone in the kitchen, with the niggling feeling that everyone knows exactly who I am, and what I can never be.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Tyler says from behind me. “Sure, it won’t be easy, but I think you can do it.”
“Thanks, Tyler, but you don’t have to say that just to go against everyone else.”
“You’re her father.”
I turn to face him. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It’ll take time, and you’ll both need to be patient.”
“She hates me, Tyler.”
“That’s obvious. You always hate the person who stays, even when the one who left didn’t choose to go.”
That’s the third pearl of wisdom he’s bestowed on me today without batting an eyelid. What’s happened to my childhood friend, Tyler Hayes?
“She needs to take it out on someone, and you’re the only one around.”
“That’s not a great consolation.”
He smiles at me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “If you ever need me, I’m here to help.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“But we haven’t seen each other for – how long? Fifteen years?”
“Who cares? Friendship has no time limits.”
I smile, despite myself.
“It’s like family,” he adds. “You’re in the right place, Kerry. You’re home.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I do. And pretty soon, you’ll think so, too.”
Luckily, at dinner, Tyler doesn’t stop talking for even a second – something that my mother adores. I don’t know whether he’s doing it to keep the mood light, or to cover up the uncomfortable silences, but I appreciate it; just as I appreciate the fact that he’s decided to keep being my friend, even when I don’t deserve it. But I’m alone, I’m scared, and I have no idea where I’m going. So I’ll take his friendship and his offer of help, just as I know I’ll take everything else my family can give me.
Skylar is sitting next to my sister. They’ve barely exchanged a word – my sister doesn’t know her like me or our parents do – but my father is sitting across the table from them, and he seems to be making things easier. I think he’s the only person she hasn’t insulted since we’ve been here.
“What are your parents up to tonight?” my mother asks Tyler.
“They’ve gone out dancing, like they do every Saturday.”
My sister stifles a laugh, and I surprisingly find myself doing the same.
“We haven’t been dancing for a while,” my mother says, shooting a quick glance at my father. “It’s a bit difficult when your dance partner collapses at ten o’clock every evening in front of one of those damn TV documentaries.”
My father rolls his eyes.
Tyler laughs. “Maybe you could go along with my mum sometime. They don’t always go together – my dad tends to prefer the sofa, too.”
“You know, I think I will,” my mother says, satisfied, before taking a sip of wine. She turns her gaze to Skylar, who hasn’t touched her food.
“Don’t you like it, honey?”
Skylar rolls her eyes, too. “No, it’s okay. I think.”
She didn’t eat much at lunch, either.
“I’m just not that hungry.”
“That’s okay, just eat what you can. Don’t force yourself.”
Skylar nods, before picking up her fork and continuing to pushing the food around her plate.
“Tomorrow I need to go to Letterkenny, the shopping centre,” Rian says suddenly. “I need some new mats for the gym, and there’s nowhere else around here that sells sports equipment. Why don’t you come with me?”
Skylar glances at her, unconvinced.
“You could get some new stuff for your room,” my mother suggests.
“Your room?” Rian asks.
“Your old bedroom,” my mother explains.
“Is she redecorating it?”
“Kerry says I can.”
My sister looks at me, her expression unreadable; I don’t know whether she’s about to throw a knife at my head or upend the entire table.
“In that case,” she says, gentler than I’ve ever heard her, “I think I should come with you. There are loads of shops there and I’m sure you’ll be able to find something in your…” She studies her before concluding: “Style.”
That actually went fairly well.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I ask, shocked to my core.
“Yeah. That’s fine.”
“Perfect,” Rian says, smiling. “I’ll come and pick you up at nine.”
Skylar nods and turns her attention back to her plate, stabbing her fork into some chicken and bringing it up to her mouth, chewing slowly. We all sit there, silently, as I stare at my sister, who’s watching my daughter, concern etched onto her face. She suddenly looks at me.
“Thank you,” I mouth.
“I’m not doing it for you,” she mouths back, and I nod.
I would never have expected any differently, but that’s fine; what’s important is that Skylar is making plans, interacting with people, and trying to regain some control over her life – even though, as her father, that’s supposed to be my job.
Jordan
I get into my office a few minutes before my meeting. I find Anya at her desk in the hallway, a steaming cup of coffee waiting for me. I grab it as I’m walking past and thank her for being the best friend/secretary on the face of the planet. I dump my bag on my desk and take off my jacket, hooking it over the back of the armchair. I open the blinds quickly, trying to let a little light in. I fire up my computer and tap in my password, waiting for the screen to load so that I can take one last look at the file I’ve been sent about the case. I sink into the chair and sip at my coffee, as Anya pokes her head into my office.
“Are they already here?” I ask her, glancing at my watch. “Well, at least they’re on time. That’s a good sign.”
“J-Jordan?” Anya stammers, grabbing my attention. I lift my head to look at her.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I leap to my feet and head for the door. “What’s with that face?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this…”
“Just say it, you’re scaring me now.”
“Y-your meeting…”
I wait for her to continue.
“Maybe it’s best if…” She moves away from the door frame so that I have a clear view of the waiting room.
“Oh, shit.” I scurry back inside, dragging her with me, and closing the door behind us. “Please, tell me this isn’t happening.”
I run over to my desk and throw myself at the computer, clicking on the file and carefully reading all the information.
“That’s not his name.”
“I know.”
“Then how is this even possible?”
Anya shakes her head, mortified. “I’m so sorry, but I have to let him in. The bell goes in twenty minutes, and…”
“It’s okay.”
“Can you handle it?”
Absolutely not.
“Let him in.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, I can’t send him away, can I?”
“Okay. I’ll be just outside if you need me.”
I
nod and smooth down my skirt – I have no idea why – before taking a deep breath and sitting behind my desk. I pretend to be busy with something; anything to prevent me from hyperventilating, or being sick all over my office.
This is the punishment I deserve for playing at being the bad girl for just one night of my life.
“Can I come in?” his voice calls from behind the door.
You can do this, Jordan.
“I never thought you’d do this,” he says, as I slip open the button of his jeans and slide my hand inside, searching for his erection.
Me neither; but I could never tell him that.
I get up suddenly from the armchair and turn towards him. His expression makes it perfectly clear to me that he had no idea who I was.
“H-headmaster Hill?” he asks, almost choking on his words.
I nod, turning my attention to the girl beside him.
“Skylar Spencer?” I reach out my hand, and she accepts it. “And you must be…” I think I might vomit, right here on the floor of my office.
“Niall Kerry. Her father.”
I swallow down the bile rising up in my throat and shake his hand, too.
“Please, sit down,” I manage – miraculously – without passing out.
I walk around the desk and sit down, as they take their seats across from me. I clear my throat and start to go through the file: none of which mention the name of her father.
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Niall says, clearly uncomfortable, “and for giving us a chance.”
“Up against the wall.” My legs are trembling, but he holds me up swiftly with one arm. “I’ve got you. Trust me.”
I cross my legs under the desk in a desperate attempt to quell the flames leaping into my underwear.
“No problem.”
I decide to look at him – I can’t avoid eye contact for much longer. I ignore the file, and let him tell me what’s going on.
“My…daughter,” he says hesitantly – even his daughter can see how much he’s struggling, “is going through a tough time.”
