A/N: Rosy's going to say something about "what Nick did to Dexter" and that's because I went back to chapter 30 and had him attack him at the police station cause that's fun.
Rosalind had spent almost the entire day alone in her room with Tommy, and she had yet to mention Nick's story about beating him up. She had yet to cry about it too. She deserved a medal for that.
Not to say that she wasn't thinking about it; she was. She had been nonstop since the night before. Three years ago they had been sixteen, what Rosalind might have called the peak point of their relationship – inaccurately, she realized now. She had failed him as his girlfriend. She should have known. It was her job to support him and to understand all the things he chose not to tell her. She had thought she was good at that. What a harsh awakening this was for her. Tommy was a better secret keeper than she gave him credit for.
She couldn't do anything for him now. He had moved past it. It was a lot for Rosalind to process, and she was lost. Domestic violence was a big, big deal, even when it was an episode of posttraumatic stress. But what could she do? It was done, over, not an issue for Tommy. Truly, she didn't hold it against Nick. Initially, yes, she had been angry with him, but if Tommy could forgive him, then so could she. Rosalind still felt like she should say something supportive, but he didn't need it anymore. He'd already fought through that and made it safely to the other side, completely alone. He didn't need her the way she needed him.
She had reached the conclusion that that was how their relationship had always been: she played the needy girlfriend, and Tommy, the empathetic boyfriend whose own problems never got to see the light of day. Rosalind didn't know how she'd become that girl. She hated that girl. Even now, after recognizing that, her temptation to talk to him about Nick consumed her. Why? Because Rosalind would feel better if she did. Not for Tommy, he was fine. Good god, she was so toxic. She didn't know why he had put up with that for so long, or why he was coming back to her now.
He fixed her; he did it well. Actually, that wasn't right. "Fixing" had a negative connotation. He held her up, guided her even. Rosalind pretended she did that for him, but she only nagged. He did the true dirty work. It suddenly made sense to her why Tommy had accused her of thinking she was better than him. She had acted like it, discounting everything he did – every way he made herbetter – while missing the one problem he'd had that was (at the time) bigger than anything Rosalind had ever faced. If she couldn't see when someone had hurt him that badly, then what good was she? Tommy could tell when something was wrong with her from a single look or the expression she wore in class. And Rosalind hadn't caught on to this – his brother beating him to a broken arm? Rosalind had often (endearingly, most of the time) called Tommy both dumb and unobservant. What a joke. She was the true moron.
She thought back over the past week and a half. Tommy cared deeply about Skye; had Rosalind once asked him how he was holding up? Had she tried to help him cope? She didn't think she had, though she had depended on him with all that she was. She still did. Skye wasn't just her sister, she was also Tommy's friend. Rosalind had ignored that. She had been too busy thinking about herself to pay attention to him, exactly as she hadn't paid attention enough to notice that he'd been abused.
"Alright, Rosy. Let's hear it," said Tommy. He leaned against the headboard of her bed with his arms draped across his knees.
"Hear what?"
"What do you have to say about the Nick thing?"
Of course he would give her that window.
"Come on, I know there's something." Tommy poked her with his foot. She sat cross-legged on the bed in front of him. "Props to you for holding it in though."
Rosalind nervously braided her hair. Her curls were tangled; she had to separate the knots to split them into the necessary strands. She didn't know what she could say. There was a lot that she wanted to: how sorry she was that had happened to him, was he okay? How could she help him? The answer was that she couldn't, because he was fine. If she wasn't careful, she would upset him. Nick was still his best friend. All of that was what she should have said when it happened, and now it was worthless. He didn't need her to help him. This was fresh for Rosalind, but for Tommy, it was just the memory of a conflict that had no place in the present.
"I'm sorry that I didn't know," she said. Her fingers stuck in a particularly gruesome knot. She hadn't brushed her hair in a couple of days.
Tommy stretched out his hand to help her pull away her temperamental hair. "That's what I wanted," he said as he untangled her fingers.
Rosalind finished her braid and let it hang loose over her shoulders. "Then I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't tell me."
He spun one of her stray curls around his finger and tucked it neatly into her braid. "It was about Nick, not because of you. I didn't want to embarrass him—that's not the right word, he was a wreck. He already couldn't look at me, I didn't want that to spread over to you guys. And he spent a lot of time with Batty after, I don't know if you remember. I wasn't going to take that from him."
"What do you mean take it?"
"You think you would have let him if you knew? That your father would have?"
Rosalind didn't have an answer for him.
"No. You would not have," Tommy said for her. "I knew he wouldn't hurt her, and she was helping him. I couldn't do that myself because I could barely get him to talk to me."
Tommy still felt like he had to defend him.
"I know he wouldn't. He would never," Rosalind promised. "I love Nick."
"Yeah, but you wouldn't have known that then. I was black and blue."
Rosalind closed her eyes to fight the way that they stung. She pressed her hand over her lips. "It's hard for me think about."
"I know, but I'm fine." He wiped the stubborn tear that leaked down Rosalind's face. "Don't cry, okay? I'm completely over it."
"I see that." Rosalind opened her eyes. There were no more tears left to fall, thank heavens. "Nick isn't though, is he?"
It took Tommy a while to think of his response. "He's as over it as he's going to get. We're really good. We have been forever." His mouth split into a smile and he rolled his eyes. "He came into my room last night to thank me for finally hitting him. I told him he's a dipshit."
Rosalind dropped her gaze into her lap. "He's kind of scary."
"No he's not." Tommy snapped at her.
"I just mean…" Rosalind sighed and looked up at him. "I just mean that he can be. I've never thought that, but after seeing what he did to Dexter… I guess I'm picturing this like that."
Tommy just laughed. "Well don't do that."
"No?" That was a comfort for Rosalind. The idea had been haunting her.
"It wasn't that bad for me. He was trying to kill him."
"He wouldn't have gone that far," said Rosalind.
"He told me. He said the charge would have been attempted murder, not aggravated assault. He was going to hit him till he died."
That would have been so much worse. Rosalind was again so relieved Nick hadn't been arrested that her crying returned, just for a minute.
"That's all I mean when I say he's scary," she said. She did love Nick for trying. But it had been stupid, so she loved Skye for slapping him for it too.
"I think you mean he's a badass." Tommy grinned, but soon got serious again. "I've never been afraid of him, Rosalind. Not even then. I didn't try to fight him off. I just wanted to talk him down, while I could. Which definitely made it worse, but I had to try."
"While you could," Rosalind repeated in a whisper.
"Yeah, well, it did fucking hurt."
"Don't swear."
"Sorry. But I was fine, and I'm obviously good now." Tommy pulled his shirt over his head. "See? I don't even have a scar."
He did that like Rosalind hadn't seen him shirtless countless times since they were sixteen. He wasn't slick. She still had to look.
"I hate that it happened," Rosalind said. "And that you didn't tell me."
"I'm not sorry I lied."
"And I'm not asking you to be, but I still hate it."
Rosalind tore her eyes away from Tommy's bare chest only so she could kiss him. She cupped her hands around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. After a while, she flipped him underneath her and broke her lips from his so she could move them down his neck.
When she reached his collarbone, she mumbled, "Where did he hit you?" Rosalind could feel Tommy laughing. He wouldn't be for long.
"Uh…everywhere."
So everywhere was where she kissed him. She traveled across his chest, his abs – sliding her hands over the trail she made with her mouth.
"Damn, Rosy," said Tommy. "You're horny lately."
Rosalind slapped her hand over his lips. He grinned and nipped at her fingers. She jumped back up to suck on his neck. Tommy's hand slid from her back and under her shirt. Rosalind smacked it down.
"No," she said, her lips back on his mouth. His laugh fanned over her face. Rosalind's hand moved down his body and inside the waist band of his sweatpants. Tommy's breath dropped. Rosalind broke their kiss and met his eyes as the familiar feeling of him in her hand made her smile. He was breathing hard with anticipation.
Rosalind kissed his chest. She was going to go down on him. She didn't know where her assertiveness was coming from, she never did that. In all the years they'd been together, she had done it one time.
Tommy let her drag him down to edge of the bed. He sat up when his legs fell off the side of it, looking a little shocked. Rosalind circled her tongue around her mouth and tried her best not to turn red. She pried his legs apart and knelt in between them. She coiled her arm around his waist and pulled herself closer to him, kissing his abs, moving below his navel. Her tongue poked between her lips and she licked him.
She pushed his back flat against the bed. She kissed him on final time, dragging his bottom lip between her teeth as she said, "Lie down."
"You're the boss," said Tommy.
This was new territory for Rosalind. She wasn't usually the dominate one. She was a control freak everywhere else, bed was the one place she could let that go. She was encouraged because she could tell that Tommy liked it. She sucked gently at his stomach as she pulled away the rest of his clothes. She started inching down, slowly, for she was teasing him.
That was as far as they got. Someone knocked loudly on her door.
"Go away," Tommy muttered, only for Rosalind to hear.
Oddly enough, Rosalind agreed with him. She wanted to do this; she might not later. She'd never been keen on it before.
"Maybe—" She kissed the inside of his thigh and played with him in her hand. "If we don't say anything—" She slid her mouth up his leg. "They will."
No, actually. The person knocked again.
"Are you in there, Rosalind?" It was Skye.
"Oh crap," said Rosalind. She dropped Tommy and threw him his pants. "One second!"
"I need your help," said Skye.
"Yeah be right there!" Rosalind frantically started trying to help Tommy dress.
He pushed her hands away. "I can do it myself."
"Hurry!" Rosalind hissed.
"I got that." Tommy reached behind him for his t shirt.
Skye opened the door. Rosalind jumped and attempted to look natural. Impossible, Tommy was in the middle of pulling his shirt back on, and Rosalind hadn't gotten off her knees yet. She had been so desperate to get Tommy dressed that she had forgotten to move. By the time she'd looked over her shoulder at Skye, her sister was already turned around.
"Got it. Never mind."
The emotion in Skye's tone was unidentifiable. Rosalind abruptly remembered what Dexter had told Nick at the police station – that Skye gave a great blowjob. Rosalind felt sick. How could she have been so stupid? What was she thinking, doing that to Tommy with her sexually assaulted sister in the same house? And she hadn't even locked her door. Of all the selfish, insensitive choices she could make – where was her self-control?
Rosalind looked up at Tommy with her eyes wide. She covered her mouth, horrified with herself.
He mouthed, "I know, get up" and motioned after Skye to tell her to talk to her. Rosalind hastily scrambled to her feet.
"Wait, Skye. What is it?" Rosalind said urgently. "We were just—"
"I know what you were doing," Skye said, without any emotion at all. She bent down and picked up – Rosalind realized with a panic – Tommy's underwear with a single finger. She whirled and threw them at him. "You forgot something." She turned back around before either of them could get a look at her expression.
Tommy caught them, but he just tucked them under the bedsheet. He dragged his palm across his cheek and muttered, "Shit."
"Skye, I—" Rosalind started to explain.
"None of my business, you guys do you."
It was probably a good thing Skye had interrupted her. Rosalind hadn't known what she was going to say. She had no excuses. Skye still wouldn't look at them. Rosalind sat next to Tommy on the bed.
"What can I help you with?" That was dumb. She sounded like a customer service worker. Rosalind tried again. "I mean, are you alright?"
Skye fidgeted nervously. She took forever to answer. "Promise me you won't freak out."
Rosalind's pulse raced. "About what?"
"Promise, Rosy."
"Okay. I won't freak out."
Skye's shoulders rose and fell with her heavy breath. She turned.
Tommy instantly grabbed Rosalind and whispered in her ear, "You promised."
Rosalind's mouth hung open, but she clenched her stomach to trap her scream. Skye's eye was black, and it had not been the night before—not like that, anyway. The dark bruise leeched over her cheek; her jaw was purple. Skye was giving her a moment to react, but Rosalind didn't allow that. She gouged her fingers into Tommy's arm. It was all she could do to stop herself.
"Tell me you brought makeup," said Skye. "I need you to cover it up."
Rosalind's nod was jerky. She hadn't specifically packed makeup, but it had already been in the bag she had grabbed on their way to Arundel. When she finally trusted herself to speak, she said, "What happened?"
Skye bit her lip and looked everywhere in the room but at Rosalind. "It wasn't his fault. He was dreaming, it was so bad. I tried to wake him up." Skye settled her stare at Rosalind and she adamantly repeated, "It was not his fault."
Tommy put his forehead in his hand and breathed, "Oh fucking Christ."
Rosalind's chest seized. She had to stop herself from doubling over. She gaped at Skye. Her lungs stopped working. Tears piled up and spilled from the corners of her eyes. Not wanting to draw attention to them, she didn't wipe them away. "Jeffrey did that to you?"
Skye's eyes flashed as her jaw set in a harsh line. "I did it. I got in the way. He was defending himself, he didn't realize…"
"And he hit you," Rosalind said quietly. What had she told herself earlier? Domestic violence was always a big deal, even if it came from PTSD.
"He was asleep!" Skye shouted. She slammed Rosalind's door and lowered her voice. Her tone was just as severe. "He didn't do anything, he was fucking sleeping."
Sleeping or not, Jeffrey had done plenty. Rosalind's tears fell faster. "That's horrible."
Skye's hand closed into a fist. "If you blame him, Rosalind, I swear to god I'll give you your own black eye."
Rosalind shook her head. "I don't. I'm not saying that. I'm scared for him, Skye."
An angry tear made its way down Skye's nose. She still glared threats at Rosalind.
"He doesn't know, does he?" said Tommy.
"No, and he won't."
"Skye, you have to tell him," Tommy insisted. Rosalind was surprised that he sounded a little mad.
"I can't." Skye was desperate. The look she gave Rosalind was pleasing. "Rosalind?"
Rosalind glanced between Tommy and her sister – the look he was giving Skye was indignant and disappointed. She felt torn, but she couldn't refuse Skye.
"I can hide it," she said.
Skye was so relieved she started to cry. Tommy turned his glare on Rosalind, first surprised, then angry. He dropped her hand.
"Rosalind," he said, sounding rigid.
She lifted her hands in a gesture that said, "what else can I do?" They thudded heavily into her lap.
"You…" Tommy clenched his hand, then released it and rubbed it down his face. "You're letting me down."
Rosalind opened her mouth as a lump rose in her throat, but when she glanced at Skye, she shoved it down. Tommy's lips pressed tightly together. He challenged Rosalind with his stare. She looked away so she wouldn't crack.
"This is so stupid," Tommy said. "How dumb do you think Jeffrey is?"
"Makeup does wonders, you don't know what I can do," Rosalind protested weakly.
"Look at me, Rosy," said Tommy.
Rosalind found that difficult. It took all over her strength not to drop her eyes. It was hard to make eye contact with him when his gaze was that intense.
"If it was me, if I did that to you and you lied to me about it…" Tommy forced his aggravation out of his voice, but Rosalind knew he was still pissed off. "It will make it worse for him."
"The whole point of this is to keep it from him. He won't ever have to know," said Rosalind. Skye nodded in agreement.
Tommy smacked his open palm on the mattress. "He will find out!" He was almost yelling.
Rosalind was a little surprised that he was so worked up. It wasn't like he and Jeffrey were friends. She stiffened, suddenly irritated as well. Who was Tommy to be angry about this? "You lied to me about Nick," she said coolly. "Which ten minutes ago, you said you weren't sorry for. This is exactly like that."
Tommy rolled his eyes. "No. It's not the same thing, because this will not work." He stood up to leave. "When Jeffrey loses his shit, that's on you."
Skye stepped in front of him. A little panicked, she said, "Where are you going?"
"Out."
"Don't tell him," Skye ordered.
Tommy laughed harshly and shook his head. He stared Rosalind down; it was almost enough to change her mind. Then she looked back at the bruising on Skye's face and her resolve strengthened. Maybe they wouldn't be able to hide it from Jeffrey, but if they could, wouldn't that be better? She didn't think the truth could be improved for Jeffrey simply by telling it to him outright. His problem was not going to be that Skye lied.
Tommy exhaled, sensing that nothing was going to change. "You two are insulting him."
"I'm protecting him!" Skye shouted it, but Rosalind could hear her doubt. It didn't matter; once Skye made up her mind, she stuck to it.
"This is wrong. He's going to be insulted, he's going to feel betrayed, and then he's going to fucking hate himself." Tommy said each thing slowly, ticking it off on his fingers as he listed it. "If that's protecting him, then you're on the right track. I hope that's what you're aiming for."
Skye flinched but stood her ground. Rosalind got up to put an arm around her, but Skye stepped out of her reach.
"Don't talk to her like that, Tommy," said Rosalind.
Tommy sighed through his nose. "Right. I'm the jerk here. Sorry."
He left the door wide open behind him.
Skye spun towards Rosalind. "Stop him. He's going to tell him, he can't!"
Rosalind didn't want to leave her, but she listened. "I know. Stay here."
She ran after Tommy and caught his arm. He didn't want to stop, but he turned reluctantly.
"It's not your place to tell him," said Rosalind.
"I'm not," said Tommy. His face was stony and hard.
"Then where are you going?"
Tommy shrugged. "For a drive. I might go home."
"No." Rosalind was frustrated by how shaky that word had been. "Stay with me." She stepped closer to him and put both of her hands on his face. "Please don't go."
Tommy peeled her hands away, but his expression softened into something sad. "Okay." He had Nick's keys and he passed them back and forth from one hand to the other. "Okay. I'm just going to go into town. There's a diner there, I'll hang out for a while. If I stay here, I'll end up telling Jeffrey, and you're right. That's not my place." He pushed a hand through his hair. "I'll be back in a few hours. No later than midnight."
Rosalind was close to crying. She was driving him away. There were more than a few hours to midnight, it was only 5:45. "Text me when you get there."
"I will."
Rosalind rubbed her lips together and breathed calmly from her nose. She wouldn't let the tears come. "Can you bring me back pancakes?"
Tommy's mouth twitched into almost a smile. "Sure."
"With—"
"Chocolate chips, I know."
Rosalind took her debit card out of her phone case and held it out to him. Tommy waved his hand.
"Just take it," said Rosalind. "It's on me, gas too. I'm the reason you're going."
Tommy swiped his tongue behind his bottom lip, then grabbed the card from her.
"Don't lose it." The words were out before Rosalind had time to try to stop them.
"I'll be careful." He stuck it in his pocket and his hands fell to his sides. "Don't do this, Rosalind. Skye is a mess, I get it coming from her, but you have to know that I'm right."
"I do," she admitted. "But I can't tell her no. Especially not while she looks like that, and after what she walked in on…I feel awful. I have to listen to her. I shouldn't, but I have to. I'm sorry."
Tommy sighed. "Then you need to work on that."
It hurt because it was true. Rosalind was making error after oversight after misjudgment. Where Skye was concerned, everything that Rosalind did was a complete faux pas. She only ever irritated her. Just once, she wanted her sister to come to her for help without it ending with Skye angry with her. She was trying her best. But this was ending with Tommy angry with her in Skye's place, so Rosalind's best was shamefully insufficient.
"Maybe we'll get lucky, it might work," she said, like an idiot.
"No!" Tommy snapped again. He shut his eyes. Rosalind counted twelve seconds before he opened them and calmly said, "Jeffrey is a smart guy. He is going to get hurt. Either way he will, but this'll make it harder on him. He's got it bad enough already. He deserves the truth before it blindsides him."
"I know." Rosalind's head hurt. Her whole body did. Dread was a spiteful feeling, particularly when coupled with guilt.
"But you're not going to give it to him," Tommy said flatly.
Rosalind gave a reluctant, small shake of her head. Not if Skye wasn't.
"I guess that's that, then." He rubbed at his eye in frustration. "He's going to know something's up the second she walks in. Skye doesn't even wear makeup."
"Maybe he'll think she's doing it for him." Rosalind cringed as she said it. The dishonor with which she was grasping at straws.
Tommy scoffed. "You're insulting him again." He backed away from Rosalind. "Go make your mistake. I'm leaving."
Rosalind let him walk halfway down the stairs before she chased after him. She grabbed his hand and stopped him at the landing.
"Tommy, kiss me."
For a frightening second, she thought he was going to refuse. Then he pulled her into him so suddenly, so quickly that a startled "oh!" jumped out of Rosalind's mouth. She could sense his anger in the way that he kissed her, roughly, but like he was starving for her. It was her favorite way to kiss him, and it only happened when they were fighting.
Tommy pinned her against the wall. He forced his tongue in her mouth; Rosalind was so caught up in that that her back arched. She gasped when Tommy's arm shot around her waist. His hand dug into her side as he lifted her several inches off the ground, so that her face was almost level with his. He shoved his body against hers, knocking her back into the wall. Rosalind's moan was breathy. His arm was flexed hard against her. She wrapped her legs around him and sucked at his lip. She clutched at his back because he still wasn't close enough.
The kiss never slowed down, Tommy just ended it – abruptly, without any hint of a warning. Rosalind's legs dropped unenthusiastically to the floor; she stayed pressed against the wall.
"I hate that you're doing this," he said. "But I love you anyway."
He kissed her once more, softly this time, and then that was it. Rosalind was so winded that she just watched him go. Nothing stung quite like "I love you anyway." It was the best thing he could say to her – and everything she wanted their relationship to be – but it proved to her how wrong she was. Tommy didn't say that when their fights were petty. In fact, Rosalind didn't think he had tacked on the "anyway" ever. The tears she hadn't let out before poured out of her like Yosemite Falls.
He was long gone, but Rosalind murmured, "I'm sorry."
She didn't move until her eyes were dry. She meandered back to her room, trying to push Tommy from her mind. She wasn't successful, so she sent him a quick text: msl? – "makeup sex later"? They'd had so many spats over the years that they had developed their own acronym. That text didn't always mean they would do it, but it was their (admittedly vulgar) way of telling each other that angry or not, they knew their conflict was temporary.
Tommy responded in a second: only if you remember to lock the stupid door.
Rosalind had to remember to wipe the smile from her face when she entered her room.
Skye immediately demanded, "Where's Tommy?"
"Relax, he's driving to Framley for the night."
Skye worried her lip. "So he didn't tell him?"
"He isn't going to, no."
Relieved, Skye dropped into the desk chair. "You were gone a while."
"We were arguing." That was enough of the truth, though they had kissed for longer than Rosalind had intended.
"He's being a dick," Skye grumbled.
Rosalind's face tightened defensively. She forced herself to relax before she responded. "He's right, actually."
Skye's eyes sparked with irritation, maybe a fleeting bit of fear. "You aren't going to help me." It wasn't a question.
"That isn't what I said."
"You don't always have to take Tommy's side," Skye snapped, either not listening or not caring. "Sometimes other people need you too."
Rosalind was affronted, but she held her head high. "I'm not. He's right, and he's pissed at me, but I'm taking yours. Please be grateful for that, Skye."
Skye maintained her stubborn vexation for another tense minute, then let it drop. "I am. Thank you."
Rosalind nodded and pulled her makeup bag from her backpack. Skye followed her into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet seat. Rosalind lay out color corrector, concealer, foundation, a contour palette, the whole shebang. If she was going to do this, she would completely. She added eyeshadow, mascara, and a nude lip gloss. Better to make it look like Skye was (miraculously) wearing makeup just to wear it, and not to hide anything specific.
"Your skin tone is a little lighter than mine," Rosalind observed as she took out the correct brush and started her work.
"It's close enough," said Skye. "This is already going to be weird since I never wear any. No one will notice if I'm a shade or two off."
"That's what Tommy said." Rosalind swiped the yellow-based color corrector around Skye's eye. When she finished with the bruises Jeffrey had given her, she moved on to the ones left by Dexter. She would cover all of it. "That you never wear it."
"He would say that," Skye grouched. She knew Tommy's points were valid. They both did. It made for an uncomfortable environment.
Rosalind played music to try to lighten the mood. It didn't do much, but Rosalind hummed along as she worked. Skye was silent through it all. It took forever.
When she finished, Rosalind applied a setting spray and stepped back to get a good look at what she had accomplished.
"Skye, you look incredible."
"Incredibly bruiseless?" Skye twisted to look at her reflection in the mirror.
She did. It was all gone – every remnant of the abuse she had suffered. Rosalind had even concealed the fading bruises on Skye's throat. She looked uninjured, and she was gorgeous. It almost gave Rosalind hope. Jeffrey might be too distracted by how stunningly beautiful Skye was to notice that there was something wrong. Her cheek was a little puffy. Rosalind couldn't do anything about that, but it wasn't especially noticeable. She had to search to find it.
"Good job," said Skye. She moved her hand toward her face. Rosalind snatched it and pressed it down on the counter.
"Don't touch it!"
"Right." Skye leaned closer to the mirror and studied herself up close. "Can you do this every day? Until it goes away enough that I can blame it on Dexter."
"Of course." Rosalind tried her luck. "You should let me do it for fun sometime, too."
"Yeah right."
Rosalind made eye contact with Skye in the mirror and wiggled her eyebrows. "Jeffrey would like it."
Skye elbowed her. "Jeffrey can suck it up."
Rosalind laughed, but Skye was scrutinizing her reflection too anxiously. Rosalind's mood fell again. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Depends. Probably."
"Before you see Jeffrey tonight, will you talk to Nick?" Rosalind asked.
"Why?"
Rosalind struggled to decide the best way to put this. "He might be able to give you some advice about what to say to Jeffrey if he does find out."
"He won't."
"But if he does," Rosalind pressed.
Skye agreed without much hesitation. "Do you know where he is?"
"He was downstairs with Batty and Alec, I don't know if he still is."
"I'll find him." Already Skye was prepared to go. "Thanks, Rosalind. Even if it doesn't work, thanks."
Rosalind was suddenly too nervous to reply, so she only smiled. Skye left. Rosalind gathered up her supplies and cleaned the counter with a Clorox wipe. She hoped Tommy hadn't taken Nick with him. He was the only person left who could potentially change Skye's mind, and he had the best chance at it.
She wanted to call Tommy to discuss her fears with him; her anxiety spiked with each passing minute. Since she couldn't do that (he would have nothing to say except now she knew why he'd gotten upset), she settled into her bed to watch Gilmore Girls. She checked the time incessantly, waiting for Tommy to return or for bad news about Jeffrey. Whichever came first.