Hear Me Out

Chap. 8

A/N the names that you're gonna see in a bit are her friends nicknames.... like I said a couple of chapters ago, you'll find out how they got those names in chapters after. Yes, the 'they' I'm referring to are Skye's friends back in California.... ENJOY:)

This is dedicated to my Confuddled buddy :)

"Uh, why?" I asked.

"I, truly, do not understand why you'd rather wear something like that..." She scanned my clothes, "Instead of something a little nicer to wear."

"Nicer? Or something that'll make me conform to the type of stuff that goes on around here?"

Aunt Jocelin had the facial expression that said that she was about to slap me where I sat, "No, I meant something more appropriate for a young lady your age to wear. Maybe, then you'd have make some friends around here rather than sulking around. You'd be a normal teenager again."

"Jocelin." Uncle Vic muttered.

I leaned forward, "What's more appropriate than jeans and a nice shirt? It's only school, it's not like it's a special occasion." I retaliated, "At least I can say that I'm not afraid to wear something that's off the sales rack. I can't even afford half of the designers they'll be wearing."

"You can afford it now." She said pointedly.

"Nor do I want to." I snapped.

"Honey..." She said with a calm faҫade, "All of them dress the part of the female human race. You, on the other hand, look like Fabien dressed you."

I gaped at her while Uncle tried to interrupt, "Fabien, can you pass the broccoli?"

I stood up from my seat and made the chair scrape against the ground, "This is how I am, Aunt Joce. And to be frank, I'm not sorry that you don't approve. You can't change me, so please don't even try to. My mom never did what you were trying to do. She never tried to dress me in a way I didn't like. She knew that the way a person dressed is a different form of expression. The other girls around here have their styles, I have mine."

She, Uncle Vic, and Fabien kept quiet as I continued, "Honestly, you'd know if you had any kids of your own..."

"Skylar Brooks." Uncle Vic crossed his arms.

"Uncle Vic?" I crossed my arms too, challenging the both of them.

"Watch your tone around your aunt, young lady."

"It's just another way I'm like my dad..."

He loosened his arms, and gawked at me. I kept going, "Are you both telling me that if you had a child, you'd want to control what they do for themselves? How will they ever learn? How will they ever find themselves?" I shook my head, "Mom raised me right. She showed me what kind of..." I did air quotes to get my point across, "Appropriate clothes a girl my age to wear."

The two adults didn't say anything. Aunt Joce just stared at me.

I can't believe I just compared her to my mom. I slipped out from the front of my seat where I was standing and pushed the chair back in, "I've lost my appetite." I stated, leaving the table my plate that was barely touched.

I headed back to my room. My stomach was growling a bit, but I'll just go back down when everyone's asleep. I grabbed my laptop and began to roam the social networks.

I checked my wall on Facebook, and it was crowded with "I miss you's" from not just my inner core group of friends, but also some of my old classmates. Eh, alright, I guess I can call them friends too. At the top right corner of my page sat two friend requests and I clicked on the icon. They both read,