Astronomical (girlxgirl)

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One (Skye's POV)

I was kind of glad that Rose decided not to join Nate, Annie and I in the library as we worked on our assignment; it would have been very difficult to concentrate with her next to me, and I would have likely made a fool of myself for continually blushing and stuttering.

We worked in companionable silence for around an hour, and I was glad that Annie and Nate had formed some sort of truce and weren't too snippy with each other. We quickly came to the consensus of focusing on a mental health issue common to young people; Annie and Nate debated different areas of focus in an almost-civil way.

In the end, we settled on bi-polar disorder and spent the rest of the hour dividing each part of the assignment into three equal parts. We decided to do our shares of the research alone before coming back together to compile it all into one report.

I wished that our study session had lasted a little longer; I felt anxiety turn my stomach to cement at the thought of going home. I tried in vain to reassure myself, Maybe Aunt Lauren doesn't know about it... The school administration wouldn't call home just for one measly detention...

Annie and Nate had offered to drive me home as we left the library, but I quietly thanked them and declined, thinking to myself, Walking stretches out the time a little more...

My heart clenched painfully to see Aunt Lauren's sleek, silver car parked in the driveway once I finally made it home, Oh dear...

I briefly considered walking back the way I came and into town, pretending that we had run out of bread or something, so I didn't have to face my Aunt quite yet.

Sighing softly, and steeling myself, I fished my keys out of my bag and unlocked the front door.

I carefully set my bag down in the hallway, my skin prickling at the silence of the big house.

I saw Aunt Lauren sitting at the glass dining table as I moved further into the house. She had a cup of coffee, her glossy cell phone and her work iPad set out before her – all perfectly arranged as if she had spent a few minutes fussing, making sure they were all lined up exactly right.

Her hands were laced in front of her, and her face was impassive.

I felt as if I had stepped into a job interview, completely unprepared about what to say, and dressed far too casually.

"Skylar, thank you for letting me know you would be home late", Aunt Lauren's voice was cold even with the hint of sarcasm woven into her tone. I glanced at the reflective clock over her shoulder and saw that it was already half-past five.

I never bother to tell you when I will be home because it's not as if you are ever here when school lets out; it's not like you are anxiously awaiting my return or worried if I'm home late... I was banking on the fact that you wouldn't know I was breaking curfew...

I pushed away the barbed thought and swallowed my pride. "I'm sorry, Aunt Lauren; I was working on a group assignment in the library". I considered pulling out the assignment sheet as proof – Aunt Lauren's face didn't give any indication of if she believed me or not. I know I broke curfew, but it was for a good reason. You see? I was doing schoolwork...

"Was this after you had detention for being tardy to English class?" I flinched at the question, feeling more panicked because she didn't raise her voice or look angry.

I can – sort of – deal with people yelling at me, but this glacial disappointment is somehow worse...

I felt tongue-tied, unable to form the right words to make her understand. She continued, "Mr Mosley called me today to have a serious discussion about your disrespect for teachers and general lack of enthusiasm about your education". Of course, he did, I thought, feeling rare bitterness well inside me.

"I overslept and was a few minutes late to class – I won't let it happen again", I promised quietly, finally finding my voice.

"Are you not sleeping again? Do I need to give Dr Cassidy a call?" How does she make that sound like a threat?

I felt tears start to well – I knew Aunt Lauren didn't really care about me. The only reason she asked about my wellbeing is that she thought my reoccurring nightmares were 'interfering' with my school work.

She viewed the situation dispassionately; like I was a clock that had stopped ticking, instead of a person. The logical solution was to return it to the manufacturer and get it repaired. And if it continued to not function in the way it should, you threw it out and bought a new one.

You're broken, Skye. Even Aunt Lauren - who you only see when she can be bothered to come home - knows it...

I met her grey eyes, as uncompromising as stone, "I won't let it happen again", I repeated – trying to inject some confidence into my voice. Please stop being mad at me...

She nodded wordlessly and glanced at the sleek digital watch on her thin wrist, "I have a meeting to attend; I've left some grocery money in the jar on the kitchen counter. Don't wait up for me, don't fall behind in your homework and for Christ sake don't be late to class again".

With that, Aunt Lauren swept out of the room, leaving a chill in the air and oppressive silence. I felt all of the tension drain from my body, leaving me lifeless and limp, That could have gone so much worse...

I started crying once the door clicked closed, and I was alone again. I wished desperately that Annie and I were actually friends; then maybe I could call her and ask to hang out to get my mind off of everything.

No, Rose - I am not a people-watcher because I'm an only child... I need to know what people think and feel so I can predict what they will do next - so I can protect myself from them...

I replayed Aunt Lauren's words, still sniffling as I went upstairs. I remembered in third grade when a classmate had accidentally hit me with a baseball bat during our lunch break.

I had sobbed for twenty minutes and watched as a bruise formed on my shin as I sat in the nurse's office. I had begged the stern nurse to call my Mum from work to come to pick me up; she had given me an ice-pack and told me to calm down, it was only a little bump. 

I compared that physical pain to the blind panic of Mr Mosley ranting at me this morning, his voice cutting and full of anger.

That hadn't hurt nearly as much as one conversation with Aunt Lauren.

I quickly stripped off my clothes until I was down to my underwear; ignoring the homework I hadn't finished in detention, pushing aside the rumble of my stomach, and silencing my Aunt Lauren's words – I collapsed onto my bed and let unconsciousness provide a temporary reprieve.