An Open Sky

Chapter Two ~Alexa~

I simply stood there for a moment, partially hesitating to go inside to face my dad, but also partially wanting the moment to last longer. It was like if I stayed frozen, time would be frozen with me. I finally forced myself to go in. My fingers turned the knob slowly and creaked open the door even slower. I did my best not to be seen, or heard; I stuck my head through once the opening was large enough. The surprise of him just sitting there on the stairs waiting for me almost made me slam the door and bolt down the road again, but I didn’t. I stepped in quickly enough to make it look like I wasn’t trying to sneak into the house in the first place. I soon questioned my cover-up techniques.  

                I waited for him to say something, or at least break out in a screaming rampage at me, but he didn’t. He just sat there on the stairs looking at me. His cool, inquisitive eyes made me uncomfortable. Instead of saying something in defense, I turned to walk down the hallway and entered the bathroom that I hadn’t noticed earlier. I didn’t know where else to go. I heard footsteps coming down the hall so I was immediately occupied with washing my hands. After a few moments I knew I had to turn the water off and open the door. I knew I had to face him.

I clicked open the door, and stepped out into the hallway. I found that he’d moved to the kitchen and was currently unpacking a box of glasses into a cupboard. “Hey,” I said casually, “need some help?” I silently shot myself for not just escaping to my room when I had the chance.

                “I need to know where you’ve been,” he said flatly.

                “I was out getting something to eat and making friends. You told me to because you hate my old friends, remember? So technically I was doing what you told me to do and it’s not like I was going to get fed here,” I stated, crossing my arms across my chest. I didn’t know what else to say.

                “I didn’t hate your old friends; they were just a bad influence on you. And I was worried when you weren’t in your room, you know.” He almost sounded genuinely upset. I smiled, nice effort, dad.

                “Well I guess there really is a first time for everything,” I muttered, “and you didn’t even know them, by the way.”

                “I didn’t know them? Well I know some of them took drugs and went to parties that you shouldn’t have been at. Isn’t that enough?”

                “No,” I said under my breath. I walked past him into the living room and lifted a box into my arms that was labeled to go to my room. Based on its weight, I figured it was the box filled to the top with all of my books. I had to stop and catch my breath several times before I finally arrived in my room. Once all the boxes were up and piled on my floor, I got down to business. I pulled my iPod speaker from a box and plugged it into the wall. I let the small speaker lay on the carpet. I was envious of how it was just able to lie there when I was forced to work. I hated the fact that it could just play music and be ignorant to the world when I had to face it. The room suddenly came alive with the music, which once accompanied my ears, now vibrating the walls. I closed my eyes. It was the closest to home I’d felt since I’d arrived.

                Through all the love songs and even through all the angry punk songs, impulse buys of course, I thought of Jay. I’m not quite sure why, because I’d only known him for a short while. And besides, I’d never really been a believer in the whole 'love at first sight’ thing. Nevertheless, it made me smile when I pictured his sideways grin and his funny laugh. There was just something mysterious about him; something that was ironically quite comforting. I glanced down at my hand. It made me laugh how he wrote the letters; it reminded me of my mom’s handwriting, and how she’d always curl up her numbers. I quickly copied the numbers onto a piece of paper before they wore off. I scanned over the numbers until they were practically engraved into my brain. It gave me something to focus on, other than how much I wished I was home.