The Skylar Experiment : Dead Ending (second draft)

Chapter Forty-Five - Letting Go

RILEY

KENNEDY GATHERED US in his classroom after the last bell, ready to break our ears with admonishments. I resorted to explain what happened last night. Knees weak, I had to clarify all the details about Dad, how I found out about his link to NIO, the birth certificate, everything, including how I ended up at Luc's place for who knows how long. My teacher's face shifted from scarlet to livid. Devin cringed, and for once I captured her undivided attention. 

Ben hugged my shoulders, looking straight at Kennedy. "Look, man, I know she just ruined a chunk of the building, but don't you think we can let this slide? It's not like she did it on purpose, and we've all been through this shit. Just not at school."

"I can let her slide," he muttered, hunched over his desk. "But Tony is going to hear from me. He better start training her seriously."

Thanks to Ben, I got away with a scolding. Pushing the meeting out of my thoughts, I left campus on foot before Luc caught me for the ride home. I needed the space and the lack of buzzing chatter before it'd drive me insane. In my walk, I veered over to my house.

I dug out my keys, forgetting I could unlock doors effortlessly, and sauntered inside. I shook the snowflakes off my boots and parka. The living room was cluttered with sheets of paper, pens and an empty cup of coffee. Dad usually cleaned up after himself.

Not only that, but he'd slept on the couch again judging by the heaped-up blanket.

Had he hoped I would return?

I averted my gaze and started up the staircase, arriving in my room. I grabbed the coziest and most comfortable garments, then more underwear and pyjamas in my size. It was stupid of me, but I eyed a shelf and shoved some books in a bag along with the rest. It didn't fit. I kneeled on the floor with a sigh and sorted through them.

I selected the one Dad bought for my birthday and didn't get to begin. My head bowed under the struggle to supress an torrent of emotions, my fist crushing the cover until my knuckles hurt. I'd been so happy when he presented this book to me, and I cursed the fact that I couldn't forget this exemplary among all my other books. This one meant something more. 

With a hollow feeling in my chest, I rushed to snatch whatever my hand reached.

I stepped back to give my room one last look and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. I stared at the picture collage on my wall, my surfing board and the competition trophies. I stared and stared again. That life was long gone.

I turned to descend the stairs when I saw Mom in the hall downstairs, one hand on the railing. Her boots lied untied in the entry and she was in the middle of shedding her coat. 

"Mom?" Dad gave her a key?

"Hey, I was looking for you," she said, dropping the coat on the banister spindle. Tar dark hair curled at the tips of her cashmere scarf. "I just wanted to talk... I know things haven't been easy. It's been over a month since I came and we barely see each other."

I transferred my weight onto the other leg. Dizziness swirled my world once more, followed by a burst of heat in my sternum. I leaned onto the railing, fixing my eyes on a steady point.

"You could have called me," I responded half-heartedly. "I'm busy and—" 

"—I called many times, honey. Did you count all my voice messages?"

I bit my lip, recalling the instances where I noticed a missed call from her and chose to ignore it. I wanted to talk to her and spend days shopping until we dropped, but it was just so hard to stand her presence. She reminded me of California, of the adoption. My father hadn't been the only one keeping a secret from me; Mom had also been in on it. She was a real estate agent—nothing shady there—but it was still a lie. And that was the fine tip of the iceberg.