Skin Deep

Chapter 15

Amanda

            I wake up in a panic. My head seems to be spinning, or the room is spinning, or the world is spinning out of control. My world is out of control. I try to take a big breath to calm myself, choking as I do. I fall back on soft pillows and clutch the sheets around me. It’s dark. Everything is so dark. I turn my head slowly to check the time on my bedside clock. The glowing red numbers read 4: 17 am. My mother goes on trial for child abuse in less than four hours.

            Unable to sleep, I walk out to the kitchen, tip- toeing past Dianne’s room to the sound of her rhythmic snoring. I start the coffee maker and rummage around the kitchen as quietly as I can for coffee maker type things. I’ve never made coffee before. I hate the stuff, but today just seems like… I don’t know. It’s a coffee day.

            Once I have the machine going, I head to the living room to see what kind of TV shows are playing at this hour. It’s cartoons, mostly, and reruns of ancient shows. I sigh, settling on the cartoons. I turn down the volume so that it’s almost inaudible. I don’t want to wake Dianne. After several quiet minutes, the coffee make finishes and I get up lazily and walk back to the kitchen. I spy my phone on the counter with the message indication light flashing. Pouring the coffee with one hand, I turn on my phone and read my new messages with the other. It’s from Luke, sent very late last night.

            Sleep tight, Amanda. I’m here for you whenever you need me :)

            I can feel my eyes starting to water, so I take a big swig from my mug. I cringe and the tears start flowing. The coffee burns. Literally, it’s still extremely hot. And it tastes awful. I sniffle and chug the rest quickly, ignoring the fact that I just burned my throat.

            Luke. He’s like this little light in the darkness. It’s cliché, I know. What’s more, I can feel myself starting to like him. It’s bad. Like I need to add a relationship to my life right now, something which I am firmly against, anyway. I stand at the kitchen sink crying and rinsing my cup. When I’m finally satisfied with the state of the mug, or perhaps it’s when the tears slow, I walk back to the living room, cradling my phone, and plop down on the couch. I wrap the blanket tightly around myself and watch TV numbly.

            An hour or two later, Dianne wanders out to the kitchen and, noticing me in the living room, smiles brightly and greets me good morning. She then proceeds to pour herself a cup of coffee, and before I can stop her, she takes a large sip. I see her face twist in distaste. She swallows audibly and turns to face me with a smirk.

            “Woo, girly, you make terrible coffee."

            And as if everything is right in the world, I burst out laughing and Dianne soon joins in. We howl for quite some time before Dianne calms herself down enough to send me to get ready for the day. I can hear her humming to herself as she makes a new pot of coffee, and I smile to myself. Dianne knows how to make everything better. The butterflies in my stomach have not gone away and I can tell that my face is flushed when I see myself in the mirror, but the weight of today seems just a bit lighter now.

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            I can hardly walk up the steps into the courthouse. I actually have to lean heavily on Luke, who wears the same worried expression he had this morning when we picked him up. Still, he doesn’t seem to mind and just holds my arm all the way to the courtroom.

            At this point, everything starts moving in slow motion. When we first walk in, I notice that there are quite a few people seated to watch the trial. My face flushes with humiliation. My lawyer greets me and gives me a reassuring grin, guiding me to the prosecutor’s table. My stomach twists itself into even tighter knots. Luke walks with me as far as he is allowed, then lets me go when they ask him to. I turn quickly to look at him, desperation evident on my face. I grab his hand impulsively and nearly begin hyperventilating.