I take a deep breath. I brace and caution and calm myself, something will be different when I return through this door later on. Good or bad, I wish I knew. I wish there was a way for me to decide my own fate but it’s in the hands of the Universe, which I have trusted so wholeheartedly, so profoundly that it will array the threatening turbatio, in order for me to enjoy my life. Stress is the absolute epitome of my life, an everlasting bane and I’m just waiting for it to go.
I walk slowly, counting my light steps and shallow breaths. The words I want to say to Scott are embedded in my mind, taunting and abusing me, daring to fasten the pace of my frail heart.
Seventeen minutes later I’m facing the white and red, consistently vivid school. The one I will belong to for two agonising years more. I now decide to switch my phone on—it’s been off since after my talk with Evie on Saturday night. I was thinking, it wouldn’t be so bad to avoid him until Monday, right?
Oh well, any decisions I’ve made up until now are insignificant. What really matters, is how today goes. I trace a crucifix over my forehead, shoulders and chest before speeding up through the entrance.
The obnoxious screams from superficial beauty-queens surrounding me, happy that they’re reuniting with their friends after two days, cause me to scowl. I exhale as I try to decide where to go. Should I head straight to homeroom? Should I wait outside? Should I look for him myself? I don’t even know if he’d be at school already. Maybe I should text him. Ugh, I think before turning around to head to the parking lot instead, Evie will be here in a few minutes.
Suddenly I stop dead in my tracks, frozen by the sight of my current boyfriend. Who looks absolutely livid. His eyes burn into mine as he clenches his jaw and walks over to me. I continue to stand in my helpless position, lips parted and eyes dilated.
“Skyla, what the fuck? Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” I flinch at the sound of my full name coming off his lips with friction. I don’t look at him.
“Scott, I…” I try to form a coherent, sensical sentence but I feel so frantic. There are too many distractions, people glancing at us from the corner of their eyes, mindless conversations buzzing in my ears, I can’t handle it all at the same time. I decide to look up into his dark indigo eyes before asking, “Can we go somewhere quieter?” And he nods and moves to hold my hand but I immediately move away to rake my fingers through my hair. I feel so merciless for that but I don’t want to act like everything’s normal, okay when it’s not. He runs his hand through the roots of his hair in frustration before briskly walking ahead of me towards the bleachers. I know we’ll both be late for class but this important and needs to be done, I’ve procrastinated enough.
I sit on the gritty ground before crossing my legs and arms and resting my elbows on my inner thighs. Scott sits on one of the metal bars on the other side of the open area, avoiding my gaze. I take this as a hint to speak first.
“I’m not good for you, Scott.” I say, my voice sounding louder than it did in my head. Scott rubs his face in exasperation and groans before turning to face me.
“Sky, you are. You are and that’s why I’m in love with you, because you’re good and I hate it because I’m constantly afraid that you’ll push me away like you did before, but I love it at the same time because you make me want to be good too, to give a shit about things. Christ, I quit smoking for you and it’s been hard but I want to make you happy. Because you are good, and I know because you’ve been through so much crap and you are still so fucking beautiful, inside and out. If you leave me now I won’t be able to cope, please. Please, Sky.” At this point his hands are covering mine, kissing them with endless pleads and his eyes are glazed over and impassioned, burning with the fire of a thousand suns, boring into mine as he gives himself to me and I’m utterly overthrown.
This man in front of me is in love with me. Tears fill my eyes as my excited heart beats rapidly and I experience a non-physical breathlessness in which I loose my thought process and slam my lips against his, and as he draws his hands through my hair and kisses me back ever so tenderly yet completely, and as we lose ourselves in each other and I can finally breathe again because he is my oxygen, but until I gain it again, pulling away abruptly when a copper haired girl with green eyes flashes across my mind.
His eyes look vacant as he opens them, discomposed at my sudden absence. “I-I can’t do this, you lied to me.” I say and stand up, avoiding eye contact with him.
“I’d never lie to you.” He says assertively.
“Just because you wouldn’t doesn’t mean you didn’t?”
“Okay, tell me what I allegedly said which was a lie.” Satire. Now he wants to mock me? I scowl at him confusedly before crossing my arms in silent defense.
“You told me you were with your family when you were on a date with a girl.”
“What?” He seems genuinely surprised. Suddenly his face drops as he comes to realisation. “Martello’s?” He asks.
“Yeah. I was there with Sean and I saw you as I left, with her.”
“Sky, she is my family. I wasn’t lying, I guess I was being vague because I was pissed that you were ignoring me.” She’s his family? I want to believe him but I have no idea who or what to trust after the weeks I’ve had.
“She can’t be, how comes I’ve never seen her? And why was it just you two?”
“Her name is Holland, she’s my step-mothers daughter and she’s going to move in. I was supposed to go to dinner with her and my father to get to know her or something, but like the asshole he is, he didn’t turn up because money is more important than family. I’m sorry I never told you, I just, I don’t like to talk about them.” He looks down at the dirt. His story seems more legitimate now, understandable. I’m going to trust him. Well, I’m going to try.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have more faith in you. I’m just so used to people abusing my trust.”
“Yeah, I know. Come here,” he opens his toned arms and I walk in willingly inhaling the scent that has become so familiar to me. He smells a little less of cigarettes though, I’m happy.
The bell sounds and I pull away.
“Shit, I’m late for homeroom.” I say even though I don’t really care.
“How about we go somewhere for a few hours? The school year’s nearly over anyway, they won’t care.” He suggests and at first I feel resistant to the idea until it rapidly warms me.
“Okay,” I say. Scott smiles and drapes his arm around my shoulder as we walk to his truck in the parking lot.
I’m clueless as to where we are going which makes me excited and nervous all at the same time. I did promise myself more than anyone that I’d try to ‘live a little’, and revel in unpredictability but at this point my anxiousness takes over and I blurt out, “Where are we going?” And Scott, not taking his eyes off the road, continuing his brazen one-armed driving, smirks before answering my question.
“My mom’s,” he says and his eyes ignite ever so slightly. I nod, knowing that he can probably see the acknowledgement out of the corner of his eye and I sink into the leather seat and stare out the window watching the countless homes and shops and people and cars we are passing, while wondering why he wants to take me to meet his mother while we are bunking off of school.
After about twenty minutes, Scott pulls into the driveway of a small one-storey house, with a roof hanging over the door that is covered in mildew along with dried up leaves from last fall and the simplicity of the house is such a contrast to the magnificent exterior of Scott’s father’s home.
I’m a little nervous about meeting his mother, will she like me? Won’t she wonder why we’re not at school? I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as Scott knocks loudly on the wooden door and we wait for his mother to answer. Scott looks at me and holds my hand before placing a quick kiss on my cheek for reassurance.
“Hey, don’t worry. My mom’s cool, she’ll love you.” I nod silently yet again and she opens the door. Her big blue eyes widen at the sight of us.
“You must be Sky!” She smiles before gesturing to us. “Come in,”
Scott’s told his mother about me already? Well, I’ve told my dad about him too…sorta. I have to say, I feel a little elated.
The inside of the rustic bungalow is very welcoming. The walls are painted a dreary mango and the dark wooden floors creak slightly as we walk towards the living room. In there are a few family photos and I glance at them idly while trying to tread softly. A certain picture of a young blue-eyed boy catches my eye and I can’t help but rush over towards the photo.
“Oh my God, is this you?” I ask and Scott rubs the back of his neck.
“No, uh, actually that’s my brother, Adam.” Scott has a brother? I’m surprised but not, I’ve never known much about his family. “He’s at college,” he continues and I nod understandingly before turning to his mother.
“Miss Powers, I must say, your home is beautiful.” And I smile politely at her and she places her hands on her chest, signifying that she’s touched. Months of sucking-up to Dylan’s parents have me thoroughly skilled forever.
“Thank you. And none of that, call me Angela.” She beams warmly at me. “Please, take a seat,” she gestures over to her dark leather couches and Scott complies along with me. Angela takes a seat across from us and I admire the way her long jet black curls fall over her shoulders, and contrast with her pale face and ocean eyes. Scott and Adam resemble her wildly.
“Mom, how have you been?” Scott asks after he takes our hands and places them in his lap.
“Tired, but I’m happy I’ve got a few days off at the office, things are crazy there since Margo lost the prints for this weeks issue.” She says before she looking like she’s remembered something important and rushing off into the kitchen to return with two glasses of dark liquid. Coke? “I know you love your iced tea,” she says, “And Sky must like it too if she’s with you.” I didn’t know Scott liked iced tea? Whoa, I’ve already learnt more today than what I probably would have in class. It’s weird because I’ve only ever known the Scott around me and around my friends, in my environment and in my head. I’ve never known him anywhere else and it’s interesting because as he does me, I want to continue to discover pieces of him. I guess that’s what I love about our relationship, there’s always more to be known.
“I’ve never actually tried iced tea before,” I say politely before taking a sip of the dark liquid. Scott turns to me, surprised.
“You haven’t. Tasted. Iced. Tea?” He looks sort of frightened, like how you would if you’d learned that someone whom you know very well has not experienced the thing you’d just assumed they’d experienced. I shake my head and try not to smile on the glass while sipping down some more of the sweet minty beverage.
“It’s really nice though,” I say, nodding over to Angela and she laughs at the way Scott is still gaping at me.
“As I was saying, like I told you on the phone this morning, my manager Karl,” she uses his title for me to follow, “Said I’d had a rough couple of days and he was sorry for making me work over my hours, so he let me have the day off.” She crosses her legs and she taps her foot up and down, her flip flop making the slightest flap sound. “Oh! I work for Pasadena Weekly, if you were wondering.” My eyes expand and I adequately refrain from spitting my iced tea out.
“Y-You’re a journalist?” I say, licking my dry lips.
“Well, I’m an editorial assistant as of quite recently actually, and it’s good. I’ve been in the field for years. Do you want to work at a paper or magazine?” I ignore Scott’s smirks at my supposed pretentiousness as I bond with Angela talking about my desired career in journalism. She gives me tips from how to slowly make my way in and what I should do at college to getting work experience. I feel as stimulated as ever, my passion for the work is magnified and I’m suddenly quite determined to get off to an early start into journalism. I’ll start searching for work experience soon.
Scott starts to talk to Angela about the latest Lakers game, and they speak ever so devotedly and controversially about their favourite team that Angela becomes exhausted from all the excitement before telling us she is going to lie down.
Scott leads me into a bedroom down the hall. He swiftly draws open the navy blue curtains and light fills the baby blue painted room. I look around as there are loads of posters attached to the paint-stripped wall, along with books and video games piled randomly in the room. On the shelf are some golden trophies shaped as basketballs on podium stands or men in the process of ‘slam dunking’ a basketball which indicates that possibly, even though ever so unlikely, that Scott did used to care about stuff—basketball perhaps. He paces a few steps across the small room to a drawer filled with the clothes of a thirteen year old boy, and fumbles around for something.
“What are you looking for?” I ask but he doesn’t answer me, he begins to say, “Ahhhh-” before grasping a small object in his hand and shutting the draw and turning around to face me, then finishing with, “Ha.” In his hand are a carton of Marlboro Lights and I raise my eyebrows at his animated expression.
“Really,” I say. “I thought you’d quit?” He places a cigarette in his mouth and his speech becomes muffled while he digs into his pockets. “Well, technically, I’ve cut down. See, when your life is shitty, escape is mandatory.” And he takes a cheap turquoise lighter out before lighting it and inhaling intensely, obviously relieved his everlasting crave is being fulfilled. He sits on an old wooden stool next to the window before opening it to let some of the smoke out. I sit on a desk chair facing him, looking at him as he stares out the window, analysing him as his eyes search the world he cannot see.
“Pass that here,” I say compulsively. God, bunking off school and then smoking? What’s happening to me? Scott begins to cough during inhalation and his eyebrows slant.
“What? You want to smoke?” Humor is evident in his tone.
“Yeah, why not? I wanna see what all the big fuss is about.” I shrug in the most nonchalant way I can. I’m not actually sure I want to do this but if I back out now he’ll probably label me as a pussy and I won’t hear the end of it. My stomach begins to quiver but I still hold my ground and outstretch my hand for him to pass it to me.
“Okay,” he says with a slight innocence. An innocence that says, “Hey, this was your idea so you can’t blame me when it goes wrong.” And as much as I try to welcome that innocence, I curse as I choke on the thick particles after taking a drag. My lungs are on fire and coughing does nothing but add fuel to the burning sensation. Scott laughs and rubs my back as I heave uncontrollably.
Between breaths, I say, “Why do you do that???” Scott laughs even harder.
“It gets better, come on try again.” He passes back the ashy cigarette I shoved in his face thirty seconds ago and I take it in between my index and middle finger, taking a deep breath before putting myself through the unfathomable torture people do every day, yet again. I visibly relax as it isn’t as bad as the first time. I take another drag before handing it back to Scott.
“No more,” I say, before holding my hands over my mouth to smell my tobacco plagued breath. I feel slightly dizzy and somewhat lighter, I feel different. Scott stares at me while finishing his smoke and I wonder why. He always stares at me, but this time it feels odd.
“God, I love you.” He says absentmindedly and I perk up. I want to say the words back but I’m not sure if I really mean them. Instead of lying, I say, “Why?” And Scott replies, “Because you hate smoking and you just did it, for me, even though I didn’t ask you to. That’s why I love you.” I blush, I feel guilty having the words given to me and not returning them. He doesn’t seem to mind my silence though, I guess that’s part of his ‘whatever’ personality.
“Scott,” I begin and he gets up before pulling me with him onto the edge of the bed. He lays down and stares up at the ceiling, so I do the same.
“Yeah?”
“Wait, is this your room?”
“Yeah, when I used to live here.” He used to live here? With his mom? My mind reels with the new information. He must see the wheels and gears pivoting in my mind because he continues. “When my dad and mom divorced, he got custody of Adam and I because my mom was unemployed.”
“Oh,” I say. “Did you want to be with your mom?”
“Yeah,” he states quietly while looking up distantly at the ceiling. “So badly. He got her fired on purpose too.” I gasp. How someone do that? That is the embodiment of cruel. I don’t say anything. I run my hands through his soft curls and he continues again. “When they met, it was at his publishing house and she was managing editor. Long story short, she got pregnant, had Adam, and then me two years later. They got married and were rich together, until they started fighting and she moved out taking us with her, and she found this old place. It was what she could afford without him so, yeah. Then when his branches grew, he realised he needed an image. So he got her demoted multiple times before eventually laying her off, and filed for divorce.” He grits his teeth and I look at him with concern even though he isn’t returning my gaze. I lace my fingers in between his and he exhales. “They gave her time to find more jobs but he fucking blackballed her and they took us away. Adam left for college soon after so as I spent time alone in that fucking obnoxious house, I just got angry. That’s why I started smoking pot I guess, I just wanted to forget about how sullen I was and feel calm or something. My dad noticed that I started to rebel and tried to cover it up even more by getting married to my perfect step-mother, and now Holland is moving in, so we look like the perfect family.” He groans and rubs his face with his other hand. “I wish I could get away, you know? Take you and my mother with me, that would be my perfect family.”
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Hey guys, I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter, I've enjoyed writing it. Please comment, you can say anything, any thoughts you have about the story so far; good or bad I don't mind!
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-Shaznay x