Lost in Hollywood

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Kyler had been taken away on a stretcher, and Eli in cuffs.

Sky had spent that night in the hospital, where she got little to no sleep despite her heavy state of intoxication. The upside was that the doctors determined she hadn't suffered serious injuries. The downside was seeing Dad's face when he rushed into the room where they were treating her. The shame still wrenched Sky's heart. How many times had she promised that Dad would never have to see her in the hospital again? Too many times to count. And yet, she kept breaking that promise.

That had been Friday night. Now, it was Sunday morning, and Sky stood at the front door of Eli's home, under the pale sunlight, her hand hovering near the doorbell, as she tried to gather enough courage to press it. The wind was blowing right through her body, stealing what little was left of her strength.

She hadn't seen Eli since— since they had cuffed him, dragged him into the police car, and taken him away. He hadn't resisted. Just once, he had turned to glance at her over his slumping, defeated shoulder, and the sight of his bloodied face had hurt her like a knife in the gut. He had looked so scared - that had been the worst of it all. Scared and alone and helpless.

Sky rang the doorbell, then wrapped her arms around her shivering body to keep herself together. The sound echoed in her hollow chest, oh, so familiar, bringing forth memories that were swift, sharp, and deadly.

Of all the times she had been here, ringing the doorbell, waiting for Eli, the one that always came to her mind first, was also the worst. That night, when he had stood before her, his fists clenched, his mohawk a sharp, vicious, blade on top of his head, a boy she had barely recognized. In the sound of the doorbell, she could still hear his voice that cracked with anger: Why would anyone be with you? To get some pussy—

Seven months ago. A lifetime ago. God, she wished they would change the sound of the doorbell, that they would paint the door— anything to make her not think about that night, and all that had followed.

She wanted to forget it had ever happened. She wanted it to be a nightmare— one she had finally awakened from. She wanted to remember only the good times she had been here, the times when she had stood at this door, listening the sound of the doorbell echoing in the house, then hearing Eli's footsteps nearing, and then him—yanking the door open, and oh, seeing the smile on his face, the curve of his lips, his sweet, soft, mouth, his eyes that always revealed his emotion.

That, she wanted. That, a thousand times over.

The door opened.

It wasn't Eli.

Of course, it wasn't. What had she expected? Even if he were here, he probably never wanted to see her again.

It was his mother at the door instead, her face pale and sleepless, her eyes widening at the sight of Sky on her doorsteps.

"Sky, goodness— Are you alright? I was so worried!"

Sky looked down, her cheeks growing hot. She hadn't been expecting this. Why was Eli's Mom being so nice? What did she care? For all Sky knew, Mrs. Moskowitz must blame her for dragging her son through a shitload of drama, for breaking his heart, and now—

The image of Eli in cuffs, his bloodied face, pierced Sky's heart. What had happened to him that night was her fault, and his Mom must have known that too.

It was a wonder she didn't slam the door on Sky's face. 

"Thank you. I'm okay," Sky managed to form a proper answer, shifting on her feet.

"I'm glad to hear that. What that— that boy did—" Mrs. Moskowitz's voice caught, she swallowed the end of that sentence. "It's just— I'm glad you're okay. You could have gotten seriously hurt, Sky."