12:46 am.
The electronic clock resting on Skye Penderwick's nightstand glows with blue light. It looks ghostly compared to the shadowy darkness of the rest of her bedroom. Everything else seems to be drenched in a deep dark color so thick and pure black that it looks as if an ink bottle has been tipped over and emptied to the last drop. Outside, the honking and passing of cars is a constant noise, as well as drunk chatter from partygoers exiting and entering into bars and dance floors. Down the hall, throaty snores can be heard. It's obvious that Batty has snuck Hound upstairs again. Quietly, the blonde fifteen year old slowly rises from her comfortable position wrapped in the layers of warm sheets in her bed, gritting her teeth at the cold air pressing around her.
She tugs on a navy blue sweatshirt and slips into her favorite Nike sneakers before grabbing the black knapsack she had prepared the day before and slipping it over her shoulders. Creeping as silently as she can, aware that every step could betray her, she inches her way towards the window. With a sharp tug of the blinds, a flood of light enters the room. A few seconds later and she has the glass popped open and is able to slip her way through the entry hole out onto the roof outside.
Catching her breath, she surveys her surroundings. The night sky looks like a masterpiece. The stars are pinpricks of silver sewn with care onto indigo blue satin, and the moon is made up of sparkling white sequins, giving off an ethereal glow that settles over the small town. Beneath her feet, the roof tiles feel sturdy and reassuringly stable, and across from where she stands is a row of shops and bars and restaurants. Closest to her is the McDonalds, its Golden Arches gleaming a neon yellow almost as bright as a lighthouse's beams seem to sailors lost at sea. Wafting from the fast food place is the thick stench of oily and rich 'meals', if you can even call them that. But getting a midnight snack isn't Skye's intention.
She makes her way down to the gutter pipe and then descends as fast as she dares towards the ground. The thick grass feels comforting under her feet as she lands. Not wasting any time, she heads over to the small footpath which runs along the drive thru at the McDonalds, her steps beating beneath her and her hair stringing behind her in the cool breeze. She loves this feeling, of doing things at night. There is a secrecy to it, an addition of surprise and danger that makes her heart race and her cheeks pinken in excitement.
"Hey, you!"
Crap. Skye freezes, trying to gauge where the voice had come from. If it was from down the road, she's safe, if it was back from the house, she's doomed. She'll never be able to make these midnight trips again, never be able to see the beauty one last time before they ruin -
"Yeah, you, the one with the blue sweatshirt!"
She's able to find the speaker. It's a lanky teenage boy sitting lazily at the McDonald's drive thru booth. His messy curly brown hair has a dent in it where it's clear he's been sleeping, and his green eyes are heavily lidded, like he's about to drift away to Dreamland at any given moment. Despite this fact, Skye still doesn't think it's okay he scared her half out of her wits.
"What do you want?" she yells.
No answer comes. She can see him staring out the window, knows that he can hear her, but he's obviously choosing to tune out her words. God, the annoying jerk. He's just that infuriating type of person who always does the opposite of what people want him to-the type of person who people tell you to just ignore when all you want to do is sock them in the face. Well, guess what? She's not going to "just ignore" him. She's going to show him what happens when you mess with a certain Skye Penderwick.
She slinks her way through the empty parking lot, jumping over bumper protectors and ducking behind trash cans. She shuffles along the concrete wall around the corner of the building, and finally arrives at the drive thru window.
The boy appears unaware, staring intently at some game on his phone, his fingers flying across the screen and his feet tapping to some unheard beat. Skye reads the name tag on his intensely saturated red and yellow uniform: JEFFREY TIFTON. Tifton. Where has she heard that name before? Doesn't matter. What does matter is that this dude is a jerk who deserves what's coming for him. Mustering her anger (it isn't very difficult), she pounds hard on the glass window part of the drive thru.
"UAFEGHH!" comes a muffled shout, and she's surprised to see the teenage boy jerk around like he's waking up. She decides to ignore it.
"Excuse me," she says primly, "I just came to ask you why you yelled at me five seconds ago and then didn't respond after I asked you what you wanted."
The boy looks extremely lost. Skye resists the urge to slap him in the face.
"Hello? Is anybody in there?" she asks instead, waving her hand in front of him to get a reaction.
"I'm sorry, but I've just woken up," the boy says, "and I don't really know what's going on here. Did you say you wanted to order something?"
Strangely, he doesn't look like he's joking or pretending to 'forget' what he yelled at her. He looks like he's serious, like he has no idea what she's talking about. She decides to give him one last chance before she explodes and loses her cool.
"Like I said," she says, "I just wanted to know why you called me over a few minutes before. It scared me half out of my wits. And then when I asked you what you wanted, you just ignored me even though I could see you staring right at me."
The-guy-named-Jeffery looks embarrassed, and he ducks his head to cover his cheeks blushing. Its endearing and cute and-WAIT. Did she actually call the guy who acted like a jerk to her cute? The lateness of night must be getting to her.
"I'm sorry about before. It's sort of hard to explain, but I have this condition which makes me sleep talk and walk with my eyes open. I'm technically supposed to be dreaming and strapped in to my bed right now, because according to my doctors I'm a danger if I'm let loose. But my friend Kate needed me to cover for her late night shift and I didn't want to let her down. She doesn't know I have this thing, ya see? And it's not like it's something that I want to tell her anyway. So I snuck out and have been trying to keep myself awake for as long as possible for the past hour. I've been pricking myself with this pencil, ya see?" He lifts up a newly sharpened pencil as if it's evidence for his case. Skye's anger melts away, and she almost wants to laugh.
"And you can't remember anything that happens while you're, um...asleep?" she asks.
"No," he says, grinning, "it's a bit like going under anesthesia when you get your teeth pulled. You get to hear about all of the embarrassing moments but don't get to actually experience them. And you always have to deal with the consequences of them."
"In that case, I also paid for sixteen cheeseburgers, twelve fry packets, and six milkshakes while you were out cold. I would like them now. Chop, chop!" she says, clapping her hands.
Jeffery laughs, and Skye feels a warmth rise from her stomach to her cheeks. WHAT is going on with her? She's acting like an idiot! She needs to get back to her old regular self. She slaps her wrist and the pain helps clear her eyes.
"What are you doing out this late anyway?" he asks. "Unless...do you want to get something?"
"No, I don't want to get anything. No offense, but I don't really consider McDonalds' items as 'food'. I was planning on going somewhere secret," she says.
"Yeah?" he prompts.
Skye hesitates. She hasn't told anyone about where she goes at night. Not even Jane. She doesn't want it to be taken away from her, doesn't want to lose it. It's the thing she looks forward to when English Literature class is moving at a snail's pace, the thing she dreams about at night. She feels like sharing it would make it harder to protect. And it's going to be taken from her anyway, there's nothing she can do. All she wants to do is still be able to use it before it's ruined forever.
And yet...she feels like she trusts Jeffery. She's only known him for a few minutes and he's already told her something about himself that he doesn't like to tell other people. It would only be right to do the same for him.
"Well," she begins, "I've always been interested in the stars. I plan on being an astrophysicist when I grow up, like my stepmother, Iantha. So sometimes, late at night when I become restless, I sneak out and hike up to Dolman's Hill. It has the most amazing views I've ever seen. There's less light pollution, so the constellations aren't blurred at all. You can find Polaris, and in the winter months the classic Orion. And I bring my telescope so that I can...," she trails off, realizing that she's rambling and not making sense at all and oh god she looks like an idiot. Why did she say all of that? Now he thinks she's just some sap who tells her life story to every person she meets!
"But um yeah, you sort of interrupted me on my way there," she says, "anyways it's probably too late to go now, so I'm just going to head back to my house."
"Now, hold up," Jeffery says, and she turns to find his arm on her shoulder. He blushes, but doesn't move it. "What time is too late to go star gazing? Because from what I have on my watch it's 1:15 in the morning. You have about six hours before any person in their right mind wakes up."
"I guess I can still go," Skye says unsurely, watching his reaction. "Do you...want to...come with me?"
His eyes light up and he immediately starts rushing to get ready in the room. He bustles around and chatters about how he's going to leave a note for his friend Kate when she returns in the morning and text his mom so that she doesn't get too worried ("I mean, she'll be mad but I think I know how to deal with her,") and bring some food along in case Skye's hungry ("I mean, I know you said McDonalds wasn't food, but this reject pile of slightly overdone fries and apple pies will tell you differently,"). Skye feels like she can't wipe away the smile from her mouth even if she slaps her wrist a thousand times.
The two hike up the hill in the late night/early morning fog, and even though its not prime stargazing time nor weather, she's able to show Jeffery a few of her favorite groups of stars. And after the constellations start to fade as the sun rises for dawn and her telescope doesn't have a real use anymore, they stay, talking about everything and anything that they can think of. Skye tries to savor the moment, because she knows that soon she won't be able to ever do this again. They also snack on some of the reject pile goods, and despite her complaining, they all taste rather good.
"I have a question. The name Tifton sounds familiar to me for some reason-like I should know it. Does your family own anything that I might have heard of?"
"Uh...," Jeffery pauses, like he's thinking of how to phrase what he's going to say. "Yeah, I guess you might have heard of it. The family business is developing houses, so there are loads of construction projects around town with TIFTON slapped on them."
It's quiet for a moment, as Skye tries to figure out why he seems so cautious about discussing his family. Then suddenly it hits her.
"Yeah, I can think of one part of land in town that's registered for construction with TIFTON slapped on it," she says, "and it happens to be where we are now. Dolman's Hill. Even though loads of activists are raising concerns about the state's wildlife, the corporation continues to stand firm in construction-caring more about money than the nature and wildlife native to the area."
"Well," Jeffery says, "maybe that corporation knows that by building an apartment complex more people will come to this town, creating job opportunities and wealth for the people living here."
"Maybe they should listen to what the people living here want instead of deciding for them," Skye says.
"Maybe they don't know what is best for them," Jeffery says.
"Maybe rich people like the 'Tiftons' shouldn't get to decide what is best for them," Skye says.
"I can't believe you," Jeffery says.
"And I can't believe you!" Skye says. "I'm leaving!"
She stalks off to her telescope, trying not to pay attention to his face and how he looks so sad and small and disappointed. In fact, she doesn't notice it at all.
"Wait, slow down," he says as she begins dismantling it. She ignores him.
"Come on, Skye," he pleads as she starts to pack it up into her knapsack.
"At least take this fries packet before you go," he says, offering out a hand. Skye sighs, but begrudgingly takes it as she begins to hike back down to her house.
It's only later, when she's safe in bed and her stomach rumbles with hunger, that she realizes the packet has writing on it. Her heart drops to the bottom of her stomach as she reads what it says:
Dear Skye-
you seem cool, we should hang out sometime.
text me: 505-916-48
:)
-Jeffery
And now she feels torn. Her fingers itch, and her heart aches, and she can't describe her feelings even if she did have Jane's power with words.
Author's Note: Sorry to leave it so abruptly! This one shot was inspired by an OTP prompt I saw on Tumblr which read: A is the teenager that snuck out of the house on a summer night. B is on the window night shift at the closest McDs. Hopefully I did it proud! And of course, I couldn't stop myself from adding a little angst in there-what can I say? It wouldn't be a ladybirden fic without some tension! Do you think Skye calls/texts the number? Also, please do not try to use that phone number, it's not real and I just made it up on the spot. Thanks for reading, and please comment any one shot ideas below!
-ladybirden