Lovestruck (EDITING)

49: Anchor

4:30am, Jayden's old fashioned alarm clock reads, but I haven't slept yet. I've been too busy thinking. Thinking about Jayden, thinking about Landon, thinking about my mom, about Shana... Everything is just so overwhelming lately. I wish I could just start over and reverse the past few weeks of my life. It has just been a mess and I'm struggling to stay afloat in this shit storm that has chosen to hit me all at once. I feel like I'm being washed out to sea and shaken about without anything stable to hold onto. What I need is an anchor.

I gently slide out from under Jayden's strong arm and climb out of his bed as quietly as possible. I pick up my clothes from the floor and quietly pad into the bathroom to retrieve my phone. Four missed calls from Landon, and eight from my mom. Fuck. I'm going to be murdered when I get home. After pulling on my jeans and tank top, I slip out of Jayden's room and quickly head out the front door without making a sound. Who thought I would be the kind of girl to sneak out of a boy's house at 4:30am... And on a school night? Oh, how things have changed. I start the ignition in my mom's car and pull out onto the street, heading back home. I spend a few minutes talking myself up to go inside once I park in the driveway, but eventually decide to just stop thinking about it and do it.

The front door squeaks as I push it open and I cringe as the stairs creak under my feet, every sound seeming amplified at this time of night. I reach my bedroom door, but glance down the hallway towards my mom's room in hesitation. This is probably a mistake, but I really don't want my mom to just wake up and find me in my room again. I want to talk to her now. I want to explain myself. I don't know what's gotten into me, but I really don't want this to be another thing that my mom and I just don't talk about, until the tension builds enough to eventually cause an explosion. It's a new day, and I'm a new person.

"Mom?" I whisper as I open her door.

I've always hated waking up my mom. Even when I'd have a nightmare as a kid, I'd always just climb into bed with her without a word. She always looked so peaceful when she slept. I couldn't bare to wake her. I almost decide to just do the same now, but I know what I need to do.

"Mom, I'm home," I say a little louder, turning on the lamp on her nightstand.

I frown at the empty bed in front of me when the the room is illuminated. My mom isn't even here. Where could she have gone? I pray to anything that she didn't go out looking for me, but suddenly I know exactly where she is.

When I was younger and my dad was still here, Mom used to worry herself to sleep whenever he would stay out late without telling us where he was. She would put on a brilliant act for me when she tucked me into bed with loving kisses and a wide smile, but each morning I would always find her in the same place. Curled up on the couch in front of the windows in the living room. The television would always be playing loudly and she would be covered in tissues from crying until she had nothing left. I don't think I ever really understood when I was really little. She'd always just tell me she fell asleep watching TV and would make me a big breakfast as she danced around and sang to the radio and smiled at me like nothing was wrong. I guess once I got to a certain age I just knew. I knew that she wasn't watching TV. She was watching out those windows. Watching the street. Just waiting for dad to come home. He never would, though. He'd always just show up later in the afternoon like nothing ever happened and the whole cycle would repeat again. I miss the naivety that kept a smile on my face and hope in my eyes when I was younger. Before I understood. Before it hurt. And I hate my father for taking that away from me.

I tip toe down the stairs and into the living room where I find my mom exactly where I expected to find her. I feel a sharp pain in my chest at the knowledge that I did this to her. She's back on this couch because of me. Because I was too selfish to tell her where I was going, or even think about her at all. Maybe this new me isn't so good, after all.

"Mom?" I stroke her cheek with my fingers, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as her eyes flutter open.

She groans, squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again in complete exhaustion. I stare back at her apologetically and she takes my hand in hers, rubbing circles over my knuckles with her thumb. I rest my forehead against out intertwined hands and let out a sigh.

"I'm so sorry, Mom. I really am," I whisper shakily.

"Never do that again," she groans with her eyes closed.

"Never," I promise her.

She holds her arms out for me and I fall into them, relieved to be back here after all that has happened. I feel her fingers playing with my matted hair and I smile, squeezing her tighter.

"I love you, baby," she breathes, her voice weak from exhaustion.

"I love you too, Mom," I sigh.

I realize that I've always had an anchor. My mom. I think that maybe the rope connecting us was just wearing out a little and I needed to repair it. But now that I have, I know that I'll always be able to stay grounded as long as I have her. My anchor.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay very short chapter but I think it was definitely needed after the last few crazy long ones. I really like this part, though. A bit more back story and some much needed emotional family time between Skye and her mom. I feel like their relationship has been a little bit off for this whole book and I definitely needed to make it clear how important they really were to each other. Thanks for reading, anyway, and there's lots more coming. I have so many ideas for this story I'm scared my head might explode! Let's hope that doesn't happen before the next part, hey?

Comment and vote as always :)

fancyauthor xoxo