Skye

Chapter 18- edited-ish

    Later that day her parents rang, James told them what had happened and they came and took her home.

    Her parents let me visit every day for as long as I liked but it never seemed to do any good, she always just sat there, for weeks. I felt so angry, I wished I’d finished ben off but then Skye wouldn’t have the court case which seemed to be the only thing keeping her going.

    When our exam results were released on August 20th she finally got up and walked to the school with me to collect them. The Skye I knew should have been excited and nervous to get them all summer long but she was lost. This Skye barely managed to get out of bed and walk to the school. She had no enthusiasm anymore. Her bruises were healed but she was not.

    I got all C’s, I’d put no effort in and still managed to pass every subject, I wanted to rub it in the faces of every single teacher that ever wound me up. Skye got B’s and some A’s, it made her snap back into the person that wanted to do A levels and university and all that.

    A level subject options was the only thing she would talk about but even then her voice was still pretty much monotone.

    She would only return to talking remotely normally when I mentioned that I didn’t want to go to sixth form, if I was going to do any more education it would be in college. We argued about it a lot because I’m “smart enough” for university and she “needed me with her” at sixth form.

    I joined an electricians’ course while she started her A levels, she didn’t stop trying to change my mind for two full weeks into the term. I didn’t mind putting up with the arguing because it was like she was back to normal. It was a course I could probably continue if I did end up in prison.

    Then one day when she was at mine she spent ages in the bathroom, like she’d been hiding, she came out with red eyes like she’d been crying.

 “Skye, what’s wrong?”

      She came and sat next to me. “I’m pregnant. I’m so sorry.” she showed me the test she’d just done.

 “Don’t say sorry, this isn’t your fault.” It felt more like a scene in a movie than real life. “It’s his, isn’t it?” I put my arm around her and she nodded. That was a fucking stupid thing to say, course it was his.

 “I have to keep it, don’t I?”

 “No, you can do what you want.” she really needed to learn to be more selfish, to put herself first.

 “I can’t abort, I can’t.” She could barely say the word. She shook her head like the idea was consuming her thoughts.

 “We, you don’t have to say it’s his.” I was speaking without thinking. “I don’t want to be a father but I deserve it after all the girls I’ve…”

 “No” she interrupted. “It’s evidence, if we start lying they won’t believe me in court.”

 “They have enough evidence, that’s a child, not evidence.” I couldn’t believe what she was saying.

 “But they’ll be able to do DNA and then he won’t be able to deny it.”

 “Skye you can’t have a baby to prove what happened. You’ll have to look after it for the rest of your life or have it adopted. What person would want to start their life like that?”

 “I know, I have to be a mother now.”

 “I think you need to talk to someone better qualified for this than me, like your mum.” or a psychologist.

      

…

    She decided to keep the baby but she would only call it “Evidence”, once again I was left worrying about her. It wasn’t right to react like that. It was messed up.

     She never wanted to think about anything the baby would need, all she cared about was her A levels and the court case.

    I was getting fucking sick of it, someone who I thought was my friend messed her up and I didn’t want to deal with it. I wished I’d never moved to this stupid town, Nottinghamshire had to be the worst county I’d ever lived in. I would have rather dealt with Brendan every day.

…

    At the end of September (the 29th to be exact) my mother turned up in a fully restored dark blue VW Beetle.

 “Happy birthday, son.” she greeted.

 “This is for me?” she nodded “Fucking hell!” I walked around it, inspecting it like I knew about cars.

 “Dean Spencer, language!” “It’s insured if you want to drive it.”

    I got in the driver’s seat and she got in the passenger side.

    When I realised I had no idea what to do I said “It isn’t actually my birthday until October 19th.” “I don’t have my provisional yet.”

 “I know.” she lied, as usual.

 “And I don’t think I’ll be around to learn for a while.”

 “Why, what’s happened son?”

 “I beat someone up, I’m going to prison, I know it.”

 “Why did you do it?”

 “Don’t do that, don’t go into lawyer mode.” I sighed “He attacked my girlfriend.”

 “You have a girlfriend, an actual long term girlfriend?”

 “Yes. It’s been like a year.”

 “Alright good. Don’t worry about the trial, we know good lawyers that will be willing to help.”

 “No mum, I’m going to get what I deserve, I’ve been on tag, community service, suspended sentence and all that. None of them did anything.”

 “So you want to throw away some of your life in prison? What is wrong with you? Everyone I’ve ever dealt with has been desperate to avoid prison.”

 “I’m not some greedy idiot that tried to avoid taxes or something. I wanted to kill him, I still do. Maybe we’ll end up in the same place.”

 “And what does your girlfriend think of this? It sounds like she needs you and you’ve chosen to be selfish. You’d rather hide in prison than support her.”

 “No you’re the selfish one, you don’t even know when your kid’s birthday is, nevermind the fact that I’m in legal shit for a violent act and drugs.”

 “Stop swearing Dean.”

 “Or what, you’ll send me to boarding school, send me to live somewhere else?” “Go home, take the car with you and leave me alone.” I got out the car.

 “Son, please don’t go. I’m trying to make amends.”

 “You’re about twelve years too late.” “Did you even know dad was fucking those “mistresses” all these years?” I slammed the door and headed back to the house.

 “Dean Jaden Spencer. Do not walk away from me!”

 “I’ve got nothing more to say. Thanks for the car but I really have no use for it.”

…

    My day in court came a few days later, James and Skye did their best to convince me to wear a suit but there was no way I was spending my last few hours of freedom in clothes I hate.

 “Just don’t swear.” James said before I went into the courtroom.