On that entire drive home, the next day, she hardly said a word to either of us. Her eyes were locked out the window no matter how cheerful of a song was playing on the radio. Connor and I just sang every lyric at the top of our lungs... and every now and then, we would look back at her and quiet down a little.
It was bothering her. I knew then, that it was truly bothering her... but there was simply nothing I knew how to do. I was one to solve problems like that... and I felt guilty not doing so... but I didn't know if I had anything to say to her that would actually make her feel better. I didn't want to let her reaction to things bring down the incredible thing that was going on... but, at the same time, I didn't want her to be hurting the way she was... unless she was just mad.
My emotions about how to handle her were out of my control.
I just watched the road ahead and tried not to look back into the mirror and get a glimpse of how terribly upset she looked. Either that, or she looked like she could feel nothing.
"Addison?" I said, quietly, hoping that Connor was distracted enough by the music.
And she just hardly bothered to let her eyes dart over at me. I suppose that was the only grant I was going to be given that she'd pay any attention to what I'd say next. But I didn't have a plan to what I was going to say next... so I just stared back at her and swallowed at the painful lump in my throat. Then I could see how badly she was waiting to look away again, "When we get back, do you want to talk about it?"
I sounded like a mother who desperately wanted to bond with her moody-teenaged daughter.
And she just squinted at me. I couldn't tell if that meant she was thinking... or if she was completely disregarding my offer.
"I can't have you hate me for this." I admitted.
That time, I knew Connor could hear me talking to her. He didn't bother to turn down the radio because I knew he would want me to think that I was talking to her alone.
"I don't hate you, Skylar." She tells me, practically rolling her eyes... but in a way that didn't hit me as disrespectful. It was as if she was sincerely trying to prove a point but didn't have the energy to.
"I hope not." I said, quieter. I didn't bother to ask if she heard me that time. I just turned the radio up louder and tried to get lost in the music like I had just a minute before that. And Connor and I resumed our terrible soloing. He did fantastic while he sang along to the One Republic song that was playing—while I just sounded like a chorus of dying cats were trying to crawl out of my throat.
Then, trying to cheer myself up from the mood Addison was dragging me into—glancing over at Connor again. The fact that he looked so different to me was actually beginning to make me really happy. His facial features looked different to me. His smile and his laugh—stood out as that much more amusing. I couldn't stop looking at him. And I kind of hoped he didn't notice how differently I was staring.
-
When we'd gotten to my house to unpack the truck, Addison just hopped out of the car and started walking—as if we were going to allow her to walk home.
When she got out of the car, it looked like she was dying to get out in the first place. As if, she didn't even plan on saying 'goodbye' before she left.
YOU ARE READING
Imperfect | est. 2015
Teen Fiction"but that's the fun part," she says, "you can't tell a soul."
