Chasing Daylight

Felix, December 9, 2014

  SO WHAT IF THIS DRAVEN KID IS THE CLOSEST PERSON TO SKAI? He’s not her boyfriend. I am. Me. Not him. And then I hear this friends-with-benefits. What the hell am I supposed to make out of that?

  I’m not jealous. Nope. Not at all. Never in a million years will I be jealous of this emo, pierced up kid.

  Okay, if I am, I’ll get over it soon because, look, Draven, Skailar is sitting here beside me, fast asleep in my arms, not in yours.

  …yeah, I’m jealous, and I hate it. I will live forever, compared to Draven. And, yes, it’s an immodest thing to think, but I am better looking than him.

  Hell, I sound terrible. Really cocky and, yes, excessively jealous.

  “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

  Jeez, well, what do you know? The guy has me covered. “In fact, you pretty much hate me, right?”

  “I don’t hate you.” I tell him, and then look down at Skai’s sleeping body. “I don’t…particularly like you, though.”

  “I kind of got that impression.” He muttered to the side.

  “I can’t stop her from who is important in her life.” He then says after a little while of silence.

  “Whoever said anyone had a problem with that?”

  “You hate that she cares so much for me.” he says, almost interjecting my sentence.

  “Well, it looks like you know me better than I do.” I throw at him, almost a little too harshly, and I know I’m being a bigger dick than he could ever be.

  “Do you seriously have to hate everyone that is close to your girlfriend?”

  “I know I don’t.”

  “But you do.”

  “I know.” I snap at him, very frustrated right now. “I don’t need constant reminders.” I then grumble, and Skai repositions herself in my arms, which brings me a wave of satisfaction, and then I get pissed at myself for always screwing up. Then I get pissed at myself for always getting pissed at myself for always thinking that I’m screwing up.

  “…I’m sorry about your brother.” My voice is soft now, sympathetic.

  “I am, too.” He sighs, but I can easily hear the pain and despair in his voice.

  “But it’s harder for them. For Skai, I mean. Danielle…obviously it’s easier for her. You know, Skai remembers him. Danielle just…remembers the idea of him.” He explains in a still soft voice. Huh? What the hell is he actually getting at?

  I just nod. Danielle is six years old, of course, even if, it’ll be just a vague memory.

  “…she’s taking it hard.” I say, brushing strands of her hair out of her face. We stay quiet for a few seconds. Skai, too, is quiet, squirms closer against the shape of my chest. I wrap my arms around her, pressing the smallest, unnoticed kiss to her sweet scented skin on the side of her neck, inhaling the fragrance of her hair. Her wonderful smell is like a drug to me. It doesn’t smell like cheap or expensive perfume. It smells natural, like it’s her own which makes me love her even more.

  I should have pretended to sleep, too, instead of start this conversation with this guy. He doesn’t like me, I don’t like him, period. But Skai’s safety in my subconscious hummed with an uneasy watchfulness. And I should probably be planning for a hit and run emergency.

  We get to Alaska, keep her locked up in a room with whoever guarding the outside (because she will hate me for locking her up, away from the action) and probably for a little while at that.

  I guess I shouldn’t hate on this guy, I mean, he’s letting us stay in his house in Alaska anyways.

  I spend a long time thinking about Skai’s safety, what my reaction will be when I see Cassidy again, how we’re going to get Skailar out, unharmed. All of these things rush through my head, and I didn’t ever notice that Draven had fallen asleep on the opposite couch. They have couches in a first class plane…

  I have no idea where Tyler and Brett are. They’re probably looking for dinner, which scares the hell out of me.

  Eventually, out the corner of my eye, I see Skai’s eyes glowering, gazing up at me. I smile down at her and, because my face is so close to hers, I kiss her. Softly. Just brush my lips against hers.

  “You should be sleeping.” I murmur.

  “Are we on the plane?”

  “Well, I hope you think so; you were awake when we boarded.”

  “Hmm…” she sighs, and squirms out of my hold. “Just need water from the bathroom.” She mumbles to herself. She stumbles to her feet and rubs her eyes tiredly, coughing slightly, and then walking forwards, out the first class room.