A.N.: You guys are all seriously amazing. Thank you so much for the people who took the time to send me such wonderful reviews; your well-thought out comments and feedback are what help me become a better writer so I really appreciate it! And I can't believe how many people added this story to the favorites or followed it. You guys rock! Thanks so much, I hope you continue to enjoy!
II.
Skye spends a restless night tossing and turning and thinking about Ward and Coulson and everything that transpired only hours before even though it feels like a lifetime. Her body is exhausted but her brain just won't stop and by the time the sky starts to lighten, she's already up and dressed and in the kitchen putting her marginal culinary skills to the test.
Coulson looks impressed when he comes downstairs to find the kitchen table loaded with plates of pancakes and waffles and bacon and poached eggs. Skye has just started a pot of coffee when she hears him enter the kitchen and she tenses, preparing herself for a lecture or yelling or more expressions of disappointment.
But Coulson just goes to sit at the table, unfolding a napkin and placing it in his lap. "This is quite the spread." He remarks, as though he didn't just catch her in the process of running away and breaking into her fancy private school only hours before.
Skye forces a smile on her face. "Yeah…it's kind of a 'thanks for letting me off the hook' breakfast."
Coulson laughs. "Oh, I'm not letting you off the hook." He assures her as he reaches for a waffle and some of the bacon.
Skye really isn't sure how to respond to that somehow ominous statement.
"I didn't know that you liked to cook." Coulson says when Skye finally convinces herself that it's safe to go sit at the table.
A part of Skye wishes that he would yell at her or punish her or even throw his plate across the kitchen. Just so they can get it over with. This whole normalcy, calm-voiced thing is giving her palpitations.
Skye shrugs. "I really don't." She tells him. "I got stuck with kitchen duty a lot at St. Agnes."
Skye hopes that the words thanks for not sending me back there are obvious to Coulson, even though she can't bring herself to say them out loud.
After a few minutes of picking at the food on her plate, Skye sighs and looks over at Coulson. "So what happens next?"
Coulson takes a sip of coffee, putting off his answer. Skye fidgets in her seat impatiently. "I've already spoken with Principal Hand." He tells her. "She wants to meet with us this afternoon. I'm hoping that she won't press charges and will just deal with the matter internally."
That sounds a bit frightening. But so does the phrase "press charges." Skye nods, tapping her fork against the side of her plate. "And what about Ward?" She forces herself to ask.
"That all depends on whether Principal Hand decides to prosecute." Coulson tells Skye. "I do know that they arrested him last night, but I don't know much more than that. I'm sorry."
Skye purses her lips and drops her eyes, staring at her marred breakfast food. Ward. In jail. Her fault.
"Is he your boyfriend?" Coulson questions and Skye jerks her head up to look at him.
"No." Skye tells him, scoffing slightly at the idea and rolling her eyes.
Coulson narrows his eyes slightly. "Skye, this isn't going to work. I want to help you, I like having you here. But we need to trust each other and I'm going to need you to be truthful with me."
Skye sighs, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "He's not my boyfriend." She says again. "He's just…he's my best friend." She looks at Coulson. "And that's the truth."
This time Coulson seems satisfied with her response. "Were you going to run away last night?"
Even though Skye feels like it's a perfectly natural question, it still seems to come out of left field and feels like a punch to the chest. Skye feels her cheeks burn with shame and she hopes that Coulson can't tell. She figures that her lack of a response is answer enough.
Coulson nods and gets to his feet, pushing his chair back and carrying his plate over to the sink. He starts to leave before pausing and turning back toward Skye. "If you're not happy here, I understand. I would never want you to stay here against your will." He tells her and Skye keeps staring down at her food. "I want you to want to be here."
Skye finds herself clinching her jaw again, her hands balled tightly into fists. Coulson waits a moment longer before leaving the kitchen and Skye exhales a breath, squeezing her eyes shut.
Just to give herself something to do, Skye goes through the motions of putting the leftover food into Tupperware containers and cleaning all the dishes and wiping down the counters. She actually finds herself wishing that she was going to school, simply so she wouldn't have to stand around and listen to the silent house around her. She knows that Coulson is upstairs but she might as well be alone.
Skye finally leaves the kitchen and heads toward her room, pausing before she gets to the door. The door to Coulson's office is open and she can hear the sound of him clicking away on the keys.
Before she can stop herself, Skye walks down the hallway and knocks on the door frame. Coulson turns around and looks at her expectantly, his expression not entirely welcoming or entirely condemning.
Skye takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. "I do want to be here." She says quickly, forcing the words out of her mouth. "I just…every time I want something it never happens and that just makes it so much harder because I…it's hard to want something and have it taken away." She dares to open her eyes, looking at Coulson hesitantly. "I do want to be here." She says it again, softer this time, testing the words and the idea.
The silence that stretches between them is almost enough to make Skye crazy and Coulson's face is impossible to read. But finally he nods and, if she's not mistaken, there's the slightest hint of a smile on his face. "Okay then." He says. "I guess that settles it."
Skye feels a little bit of the weight in her chest dissipate. It's not much, but it's a start.
It's pretty obvious that Principal Hand is torn between wanting to kick Skye out on her ass and continuing to accept the money that comes from keeping her enrolled in the Belford School. Skye just does a lot of "yes ma'am"ing and "no ma'am"ing while Coulson attempts to charm the principal into not only dropping any charges against her and Ward but keeping her enrolled as a student.
"She's just a kid," Coulson says as though all kids have gotten caught breaking and entering at one point, "you have kids of your own. I'm sure you understand."
Hand just scoffs and shakes her head. "My sons have never broken a few windows and tried to steal money from the bookkeepers office."
"I'll pay to replace the windows. And Skye will even fix them if you want." Coulson offers and Skye figures it's not the best time to point out that she knows absolutely zero about putting in windows.
But Hand still doesn't look convinced. She's looking at Skye like she's some sort of master criminal and Skye has honestly seen that look several times before so she tries not to let it bother her. "Kids like that…they're not trustworthy." She says this to Coulson like Skye isn't sitting right there in the room. "Kids in the system, they've got deep-seeded issues that you just can't get rid of."
Skye feels her face grow hot, all the way up to the tips of her ears.
"With all due respect, ma'am," Coulson's words are friendly but his tone is far from it, "I would appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself." Hand looks surprised but wisely snaps her mouth shut. "You want to punish her, I get that. But you know what I think would be better? Making sure she doesn't do anything like that again."
Hand arches an eyebrow. "And how, exactly, would I do that?" There's a hint of sarcasm in her tone, no doubt payback for the tone that Coulson took with her only seconds before.
"Make her get involved." Coulson looks over at Skye. "Put her in an afterschool activity, make her feel like she's a part of something." He gives Skye a faint smile before looking back at Hand. "If she feels like a part of this school, she probably won't break so many windows."
There's a part of Skye that things this sounds like absolute torture. There's another part of Skye that knows that she needs to keep her mouth shut.
Hand sighs and leans back in her chair, steepling her fingers as she looks at Skye. Finally she just shakes her head. "Fall sports have already started, Mr. Coulson. I'm not sure…" She pauses, seeming to reconsider. "Drama club is putting on a production of Hamlet…"
It's clear from her tone that she believes that is an adequate form of punishment.
Finally, something she and Skye can agree on.
The next day at school, Skye has gone from "under the radar" to "more interesting to gossip about than this weekend's parties." She does not like this change. She much prefers being Under the Radar Skye as opposed to Criminal Mastermind Skye.
Apparently Principal Hand's oldest son is a dick and overheard his mother talking about the whole ordeal with Skye and Ward breaking into the school and spread the story around like wildfire. The student body's interest in the story has yet to diminish, even twenty-four hours later.
Skye ignores the looks and whispers as she walks down the hallway from her locker to her first period class. Seriously, she's not even that interesting. She broke a few windows and failed to actually get her hands on anything worth stealing. By the way people are talking, you'd think she was using the science equipment to make meth, which she then sold out of the yearbook offices.
Thankfully Skye is used to ignoring the unwanted attentions and comments of her classmates. She tries to content herself with the knowledge that she's not back in St. Agnes or kicked out of school (which doesn't really seem all that great right now) and that Ward isn't going to serve time because of her. You know, silver-linings and all.
It's almost a relief to be out of the hallways and in her first period class, even though she hates chemistry. At least she's out of most of the public eye, though a few students stare at her as she walks in.
Jemma smiles at her cheerfully and when Skye sits down in her desk, Jemma swivels around in her own seat to face her. "Hello Skye." She says, just as she always does.
Skye offers her a tight smile, bracing herself for Jemma's inquires about the stories that have been going around the school.
"Would you like to borrow my notes from yesterday?" Jemma questions instead. "I was even more dedicated in my note taking when I noticed that you were absent."
Skye just stares at her for a moment. Seriously, is this girl even real? Because Skye has probably said no more than five words to her since they met four days ago and she wouldn't even call those few words cordial but Jemma is taking notes for her and still smiling like she doesn't have a care in the world.
Jemma shifts in her seat, no doubt made uncomfortable by Skye's silence. When she starts to turn around again, Skye forces herself to speak. "Yeah. Sure." She says. "That's really nice."
Jemma beams like Skye just told her she'd won prom queen or something. Or maybe some sort of Nobel Prize would be more up her alley. She grabs her binder, which is about three times as thick as any binder Skye has ever seen and starts flipping through the prolific amount of papers. "We were discussing oxidation numbers." Jemma tells Skye, like that somehow will make sense to her. "And Mrs. Montgomery said we'll be starting experiments on Monday, isn't that exciting?"
Skye just nods because knows that's the answer that Jemma wants. And she figures that it wouldn't hurt to give her what she wants, seeing as she's letting Skye copy her notes and everything.
Coulson doesn't so much ask Skye to run errands with him that weekend as he insists that she tag along. Skye doesn't mind as much as she might want people to believe, even if she's never set foot in a gardening store before in her life. Skye can't tell if Coulson is still punishing her for attempting to run away and break into the Belford School or if he's just trying to encourage some togetherness between foster parent and child but she just trails after him as he picks out plants and looks a soil for the flower beds.
Skye leaves a message for Ward on their dummy site (I'm so sorry about how everything happened, please let me know you're okay) and spends most of the weekend fidgeting around waiting for a response. Even though she finally gets one Sunday night (Not your fault, Skye, don't worry about it) she doesn't feel much better. Skye wishes that she could talk to Ward face to face, to know what he was planning on doing or where he is. But maybe it's for the best that he stays away from her. Clearly she's not anyone's good luck charm.
On Monday, experiments in chemistry class aren't the only thing that Skye has to look forward to. In the sense of, you know, not really looking forward to it at all. Auditions for Hamlet are directly after school and even though Skye can think of dozens of things that she'd rather be doing, disappointing Coulson or getting sent back to St. Agnes aren't on that list so she heads directly to the theatre after her fourth period.
Skye has never been one for extracurricular activities. Not even "computer club" held any interest for her, mainly because most of the people at said club knew as much about computers as a grade school kid. Not exactly Skye's style. But here she is, setting foot in a drama classroom for the first time in her life.
The drama department and classes have their own building toward the back of the Belford campus and the space is big enough that there's plenty of room for a large stage and space to set up chairs for the parents and faulty who get roped into attending the plays. The walls and floor are painted black and the room is sparsely decorated, though the halls leading to the space are covered with framed flyers advertising past shows.
Sign-ups for the auditions were apparently earlier in the month but Principal Hand assured her than an "exception" would be made in her case, she just needed to check in with Miss May, the drama instructor, when she arrived at the auditions. Of course, there was an implied if in Hand's tone that Skye definitely didn't miss. She got the feeling that she wouldn't be all that broken up if Skye failed to show up to audition because it would give her a reason to give Skye the boot. Proving Hand wrong just might be some of Skye's motivation for walking into the performance space.
The theatre is buzzing with voices and pulsing with excitement. There are at least two dozen kids hanging around chatting with each other or standing off the side and muttering lines under their breath. Two guys are galloping around on stage, swinging at each other with plastic swords and shouting and laughing. A few of the students are lounging about in the folding chairs that have been set up, not interested in practicing or taking part in the hullabaloo.
Skye toys with her hair as she scans the room, looking for Miss May. She doesn't know what the woman looks like, but the only adult in a room of chaos can't be all that hard to spot. Finally Skye sees her across the room; her expression is stony and unreadable as she stands back with her arms crossed over her chest, watching everything going on around her. She looks like the type of person who puts up with zero bullshit, like Sister McKenna at St. Agnes and maybe that's the reason that Skye finds her intimidating even from across the other side of the room.
"Miss May?" Skye says after she's forced herself to walk across the room to address the woman. "I'm Skye…Principal Hand told me to come by for auditions-"
May turns to look at her, giving her the once over with a flick of her eyes. "Oh, yes." She says with a nod. "The delinquent."
It's weird when May says it because it sounds like a statement of fact rather than an insult. Skye doesn't know what to say to that, so she just shifts, readjusting the strap on her backpack.
May looks at her for a moment longer before picking up a piece of paper from the chair to her right and handing it over to Skye. "This is the monologue you'll be auditioning with." She tells her. "Read it over a few times."
Skye rolls the paper up nervously, tapping it against her thigh. "Actually…I was wondering if I could do some like behind the scenes stuff? Like moving sets or…lights or…behind the scenes things?"
May quirks an eyebrow. "Have you ever worked with sets and equipment before?"
Skye shakes her head. "No. But I've also never acted before either so…"
"Bad acting I can work with." May remarks. "But if you don't know your way backstage, you might get hurt. I can't work with that." She takes the paper out of Skye's hand and unrolls it, handing it back to her. "I'll add your name to the list."
Skye just gives her a salute with the monologue before turning on her heel and heading toward the row of chairs. Great. How, exactly, has this become her life?
"Skye!" A voice calls out cheerfully and she turns around, surprised. Jemma is sitting in one of the seats, waving at her half-frantically with a huge grin on her face. Her (boy?)friend is sitting next to her, looking at Skye curiously. When Jemma sees that she has Skye's attention, she motions for her to come sit in one of the empty seats beside her.
Skye can't think of a reason why she shouldn't, so she walks over to where Jemma is sitting. Skye drops her backpack at her feet as she sits down; she shifts in her seat, unsure of what to do or say. Socialization isn't her strong point. Clearly.
"I didn't know you were interested in acting." Jemma says, clearly unbothered by Skye's discomfort and uncertainty. "What part are you hoping for?"
"Uh…" Skye taps the monologue against her knee, glancing around at the students waiting for the auditions to start. They all want to be here and she's just waiting for it all to end. She looks back at Jemma, who is still smiling brightly. "I…I'm not sure."
The only thing Skye really knows about Hamlet comes from watching The Lion King a few times at St. Agnes, even though she always thought that showing that movie was in poor taste given the fact that everyone there was an orphan and watching a father get trampled by African cows or whatever didn't seem all that sensitive. But whatever. She doubts that having seen The Lion King a handful of times growing up is going to help in her Hamlet audition.
The night before, Coulson had handed her a copy of Shakespeare's collected works, a leftover tome from his wife's college years. The book had been massive and the print tiny and when Skye had tried to start reading over the lines everything had blurred together and became too confusing. She doesn't like confusing, it makes her feel stupid. And who likes feeling stupid?
Jemma's friend looks at Skye curiously. "You don't know?" He repeats, his accent even thicker than Jemma's.
Skye hums instead of answering but Jemma is there to save the day. "Isn't this exciting?" She questions, looking from Skye to her friend and back again. "All the excitement over auditions." She leans closer to Skye. "I'm hoping for the role of Ophelia." She says, conspiratorially.
Skye nods and hopes the smile on her face seems genuine. Ophelia…she didn't get that far in the play.
"And Fitz is hoping for Hamlet." Jemma continues, gesturing to the boy beside her. "He's really quite good."
"Hamlet has over one thousand lines." Fitz chimes in, as though Skye will find this particular bit of information interesting.
Skye just nods, arching her eyebrows. "Well, better you than me, I guess." She mutters. She taps the rolled up paper on her knee and then looks back at Jemma. "Is there a character that has like five lines? That's who I want to be."
Jemma laughs at her like she thinks Skye has made some kind of witty joke and it's kinda nice so Skye doesn't bother to tell her that she was serious.
Skye looks over the piece of paper that May gave her and it looks more like a tongue twister than something she should actually be able to read out loud. She remembers working her way through Romeo and Juliet with the rest of her freshman English class and that seemed bad enough. Eventually their teacher just gave up and let them watch the movie with that Titanic guy in it.
She reads over the lines a few times, puzzling over the meaning as she runs them through her mind. Skye looks at Jemma out of the corner of her eye; the other girl seems to be doing the same thing, her lips moving quickly, silently, as her eyes fly across the page. When she notices Skye looking, she glances up and smiles, looking somehow shy.
"You'd think I'd know it by now." Jemma remarks. "I've been listening to Fitz go over these lines for the past week." She shrugs. "I guess I'm just getting a bit nervous."
"No need to be nervous." Fitz pats Jemma on the back and the gesture seems more brotherly than boyfriendly and why is Skye even noticing things like that?
"Yeah, at least this stuff probably makes sense to you." Skye points out. "I have no idea what he's even talking about…"
Fitz looks at her incredulously and Skye is used to seeing that expression on people's faces. It's the how dare you not know what I'm talking about look. But she figures that she wears it on her own face whenever people ask her basic computer questions so it evens out.
Jemma elbows him in the side and Fitz winces and rubs his ribs. "You see, Hamlet is upset at his mother." Jemma explains, pointing to the words on the page. "His mother married his uncle shortly after his father died. He's just upset because he feels like he can't depend on his mother or his uncle for that matter."
Skye makes a thoughtful noise, looking back at the words on the page. Huh. Family you can't depend on? Definitely something that she can relate to.
Finally May calls everyone to order and one scalding look sends the guys horsing around on stage running for cover. It's pretty obvious to Skye that everyone in the room respects May or is at least terrified of her because no one talks or pulls out a phone while she gives a brief speech about beginning a new production and wishing everyone luck.
May starts the auditions without further ado, calling each person up by name to read through the monologue that they were given. Some people are way too dramatic and even Skye considers it painful to watch and she doesn't know her stage right from her left. A few of the people who audition aren't so horrible and Skye might be a little biased, but she feels like Jemma really nails the audition and Fitz isn't so bad either. She figures that their crazy Shakespeare accents probably help them really sell the parts.
Skye feels a little bit like she's going to throw up when May finally calls her name. Last, of course. Jemma gives her a smile and a thumbs-up as Skye forces herself out of her seat and takes the agonizing walk toward the stage. She does not want to do this. She feels like her heart is going to shoot out of her chest at any minute and her vision is getting fuzzy around the edges. Is this what a panic attack feels like?
Skye stands frozen on the stage, feeling like a deer in the headlights as she looks down at all the faces looking back up at her. This is cruel and unusual punishment. Really.
"Take your time, we've got all day!" Calls one of the guys who had been rough-housing with the swords but one look from May has him slinking down low in his seat.
Skye swallows and looks down at the words on the page. She thinks about what Jemma said, how Hamlet is just pissed at his parents because they're not trustworthy and even though she never knew her own parents, she feels like there's nothing less trustworthy than leaving your infant daughter alone in a hospital nursery hours after she was born.
Since she was little, she's played dozens of parts, adapting to her surroundings and her new homes, changing herself to become the person that she thought someone would ask to stay. At least this is a part she doesn't feel like she has to fake.
Skye is pretty sure that she's not deserving of any Academy Awards at the end of her audition but at least she was able to speak the words with something resembling human emotion and she didn't throw up or pass out so she considers it a win. And hopefully she was horrible enough that May will cast her as someone who doesn't speak. Or maybe she can play a tree. There are trees in this play, right?
"That was marvelous, Skye." Jemma says as soon as Skye returns to her seat. As usual, she's got a huge grin on her face as she speaks.
Skye scoffs and shakes her head. "Yeah right." She mutters. "But thanks."
May dismisses them after promising to have the cast list up after school on Wednesday and assuring them that if anyone asks her about it before after school on Wednesday they won't be getting a part.
Sure, Skye thinks about asking May about the cast list tomorrow in between classes. But she doesn't. And that has to count for something, right?
Tuesday, Skye is tapping her foot impatiently as she waits in what seems like an impossibly long line to pay her for her lunch so she can return to her refuge in the library when she feels someone tap on her shoulder and finds Jemma standing beside her. Jemma is holding a brown paper bag in her hands (seriously, just like Leave it to Beaver or something; Skye is surprised that it doesn't have her name on it) which probably explains how she was able to make her way through the line without complaints from the other students.
"I noticed that you never seem to eat in the cafeteria." Jemma says as she follows Skye to the cashier. "Would you like to eat lunch with Fitz and I?"
Skye wordlessly punches in her student ID number so she can pay for her slice of pizza and "fresh" fruit, acutely aware of Jemma waiting expectantly. Finally, Skye sighs and shakes her head. "No, thanks."
You see, Jemma is probably the nicest person that she's ever met in her life. The type of person who probably wouldn't care that she's a foster kid that nobody wants or that she broke into the school or spends her time on the computer causing trouble and writing code. The type of person who doesn't care that Skye doesn't know what an ionic bond is or can't understand Shakespeare half the time. The kind of person that Skye could consider a friend.
Bad news.
The only thing that Skye really knows about friends is that it's easy to lose them. Even Ward, the one person she thought she'd never lose, is slipping away from her and it hurts. A lot. Why would anyone willingly go through that?
Jemma's face falls and Skye feels like the worst person alive because it's only when Jemma isn't smiling that you realize that she has a really great smile and should be happy all the time.
Skye moves to step past Jemma but Jemma matches her motion and is blocking her path once more. There's a stubborn expression on her face, like she's ready to speak her mind whether Skye likes it or not. "Look, I…I know we're not the coolest people to sit with or what have you but I think we…" Some of the bravado that colored her face and tone seconds earlier starts to disappear and Jemma seems almost to deflate slightly. "We're not so bad." Jemma finishes, clearly at a loss of something else to say.
Jemma turns on her heel and walks across the cafeteria, no doubt in the direction of the table that she shares with Fitz. Skye just watches her go because it's easier than telling her the truth about why she couldn't accept her invitation.
It's the whole hoping for something and then having it taken away thing. She's already pushing her luck with Coulson, she can't afford to extend herself into the realm of friendships and relationships as well.
Something tells her that Jemma wouldn't care about that either. That she would understand and manage to bust down Skye's reserves anyway.
And that's why Skye walks out of the cafeteria without a backward glance.
tbc.