I Would, Wouldn't You?

Chapter Six

Day Four

Henry

White light flooded through the slats of the blinds, a pristine backdrop for Elizabeth as she leant against the kitchen side, a mug of coffee clutched in both hands. Her gaze was dipped to the ground, and the memory of sleepless nights still hung in bruised smudges beneath her eyes. She looked up as Henry stepped off the stairs into the kitchen, and her expression warmed.

"You're up early." Henry held her waist as he kissed her cheek. "No more Twitter news?"

"No." She twisted round, and with her hip against the jut of the counter, she watched him as he poured his own coffee from the pot. "But according to the frantic texts I got from Daisy the whole wolf whistle thing has been turned into a meme and people are still sharing those photos." Her brow pinched, and her gaze drifted away from his.

He rubbed her arm. "It'll pass."

The corners of her lips tugged into a sad smile. "That was far more comforting a couple of days ago." She shook her head to herself, and the ends of her hair danced around her shoulders. But then footsteps bounded down the stairs, and she swept the pain from her face.

"Good morning." Stevie jumped off the last step into the kitchen. She sported a full-toothed grin, and her eyes shone as she looked at her parents.

"You're far too cheery for—" Elizabeth glanced at her watch. "—eight AM. You do know it's not Christmas, right?"

"Oh, this far outdoes Christmas," Alison said as she stepped down into the kitchen too. She and Stevie hovered near the bottom of the stairs. Something about the glee that lit up their faces unleashed a crawl of unease up Henry's spine. "Just wait until you see."

"See what?" Elizabeth said. She took a sip of her coffee and then choked. "Oh my God, Jason."

Henry's mouth dropped open. "Is that your mom's skirt?"

Jason was wearing the 'do me' skirt that Elizabeth had thrown out of her closet after it featured at number one in Russ Freyton's top ten. He had paired it with his usual sneakers, tee and plaid shirt. Standing in front of his sisters, he gave a twirl. "Alison adjusted it for me."

Henry clunked his coffee mug down on the side, before he had the chance to lose it from his grasp. "I'm not so concerned about how it fits you so much as why you're wearing it."

"I'm making a statement," Jason said. He looked at Elizabeth, and a solemn expression descended across his face. "You, and every other woman, should be able to wear what you want without being objectified. A skirt is just a skirt—it doesn't define you or determine your worth."

Elizabeth shook her head. "You can't wear that to school."

"Why not?"

Her voice cracked. "Because you'll get beaten up."

"So what if I do?" Jason's jaw clenched. "It's no different to what people have been doing to you all week. And maybe it'll force them to listen."

"Baby, I appreciate what you're doing," Elizabeth said, her expression pained, "but I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'll be fine." Jason shrugged. "Besides, the video's already up on YouTube."

"Video?" Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. "What video?"

Jason wore a subtle smile. He motioned between himself and his sisters. "We made a video about the skirt and why it should be a symbol of empowerment and not a tool for objectification."