TW for mentions of bullying and corporal punishment
Skye had lived through plenty of nightmare scenarios in her lifetime, and while the one spiraling out in front of her didn't exactly make her top-ten of "worst things to ever happen," that didn't make the desire to wake up and discover the whole day had been a dream any less potent. She knew she had messed up in a big way by getting so caught up in thinking about the Bryants, and she had made everything even worse by opening her mouth about it. After that, everything else had just continued to go straight downhill.
Usually if a bad memory was stuck on replay in her head or pinging around like an out of control pinball, she could eventually get it to go dark by distracting herself or just shutting down her thoughts completely. As much as Jemma liked to wax poetically about the marvels of the human brain, Skye always imagined her brain to be like a tiny little computer in her head that she could eventually hack into, if she just tried hard enough. Sometimes the password changed, or there was a glitch in her circuitry, and she couldn't get certain things to go away, but she thought she had been getting better at telling her brain how to shut up and shut off.
Something about the last few weeks with May and Phil had fried her motherboards, though, and the longer she lived with them, the less control she felt like she had over her brain. She kept remembering horrible pieces of her time in other foster homes that she thought she had blocked out, and while she had never been good at keeping herself from blurting things out as soon as they popped into her head, she was even worse at it here than she had been in a long time. That much was evidenced by the fact that she had to go and make a scene that night, asking Phil if he would ever hurt her for stealing. A total rookie mistake on her part.
Questions like that weren't ones you asked to your foster parents. It was the kind of question that made people defensive, or self-righteous, or hostile, especially if they were the kind of people who did believe in strict punishment for bad kids like Skye. Questions like that raised red flags for grownups, which is why questions like that were for the thin hours of the night, when time gets slippery and everyone but Jemma was asleep, and when the two of them could whisper their hearts to one another under the cover of darkness.
So asking about the Bryants had been bad. And then May had come in, and Phil had given her that look that told Skye that the red flag had been raised. And now there was no telling what the two of them were going to do next. When they had rejoined her, Jemma, and Bobbi, May and Phil acted like nothing was different, but Skye would have to be even stupider than people like her teachers thought she was to think that May and Phil hadn't been faking it.
Her whole stomach felt twisted up, like a writhing knot of snakes were trying to untangle themselves inside of her, and all she could think about was the ominous mantra ringing in her ears. What were May and Phil going to do? What was Miss Hill going to say? How much more could everyone take from her before she had to go back?
Jemma was her rock, of course. She talked and flitted, trying to pull the attention onto her and away from Skye. She held Skye's hand to keep her from floating away into the atmosphere, and even her tapping felt like a grounding rhythm against the back of Skye's hand, telegraphing a single message: I am here. I am here. I am here. Tap-tap-tap.
That was probably why Miss Hill's words felt so sharp in Skye's chest when she heard their teacher start to talk about how some of the teachers wanted Jemma to socialize more, and about how maybe she should be in a different grade. She couldn't exactly tell which side of the whole thing Miss Hill herself was on, but it took everything Skye had not to snap and inform their teacher just how wrong people were about Jemma.
Skye had never met a grownup who got Jemma, truly got her. She had never really met a kid who got Jemma either, if she was being totally honest, except for maybe Fitz. Even she herself didn't completely understand the way Jemma saw the world, but that would never have stopped her from loving Jemma and sticking by her side. There had been times when she had wondered if May and Phil might get close, like when May had calmed Jemma down in the dressing room, or when Phil had helped her to talk about her parents, but the way they were taking Miss Hill so seriously as she spoke about how Jemma should be "connecting" more cast a whole new shadow of doubt over everything all over again.
She should have known better than to doubt them, of course. It was only moments before May started pushing back, defending Jemma as gallantly as Skye herself wished she could, and Phil kept making sure that Jemma was getting a chance to have a say in whether or not she got moved again. Once again Phil and May had demonstrated that they were some of the good ones, and it made Skye's chest ache to know that she still hadn't trusted them as fully as she should be able to.
Then Phil had asked her if she was ready for the meeting to transition over to her, and it was like the world ground to a halt around her. The conversation she had been dreading for weeks had finally arrived. She couldn't make her mouth open for a few seconds, until she felt the tap-tap-tap of Jemma's finger on her hand. I am here.
"Yeah, sure. Okay," Skye finally managed to spit out. She gave herself a mental shake. She had to be cool, had to act normal. If she was going to have any hope of recovering from her slip up earlier in the day and from whatever lousy things were about to be said in the meeting, she had to get herself under control and not act like a total basket case.
"Great," Miss Hill smiled. "So, Skye, we'll start the same way. What are some of your strengths, do you think?"
Skye had to force herself not to let out a bitter laugh, which she knew wouldn't have helped her case. Stalling for time, she shrugged.
"I don't know," she began slowly, chewing on her words. Pieces of an answer slowly started to meld together in her brain. "I guess I do okay in Computer Science. We've been doing web design, and that stuff makes sense. I haven't failed anything in history, but Mrs. Henry just does the daily question, and that's not really all that hard."
Miss Hill didn't respond with anything but a thoughtful nod before asking her next question. "And what about some things that you think you might want to get better at?"
"Everybody knows I'm basically flunking everything else," Skye mumbled. Her ears felt hot, and she glued her eyes to the floor so she wouldn't have to see the looks of disappointment on all of the adults' faces. "That's what you want me to say, right? You want me to tell the truth about how bad I'm doing in all my other subjects?"
"Skye, I don't have anything specific I want you to say. There are no right answers here, as long as you tell us how you feel and not what you think we want to hear." Miss Hill's tone was kind, but there was some firmness to it that let Skye know she expected a better answer. Skye figured that kind of voice must be something they taught in teacher school, because it was something that almost every teacher she'd ever had had mastered.
"Maybe I should rephrase the question," Miss Hill continued. "Do you think you could tell us some areas in school that you feel are difficult for you?"
"Math is the hardest," said Skye after a beat. She knew Miss Hill wasn't going to let her off the hook, so she decided that honesty might be her easiest way out. "It's really confusing, and I don't understand anything that we do in there. I have trouble in science because there's too much to remember, and the quizzes are really hard. They're way harder than the homework we do." She still hadn't taken her eyes off the floor, but no one seemed to be objecting to her assessment. Whether that was because she was spot-on or because they couldn't believe how pathetic she was, she couldn't be sure. "The stuff we read in English is confusing, too, and it's hard to remember everything that happens in the book, especially when we have to write about it the next day."
"Do you have a favorite class so far?"
"Computer science," Skye said without hesitation. "Like I said, stuff makes sense in there, and I like computers a lot. I know it's not really a class, but I like lunch, too. I don't know if I'm allowed to say that one." The sound of Phil chuckling was enough to draw Skye's eyes back up from the floor, and to her surprise, Phil was smiling – actually smiling. He didn't look disappointed in her at all. She flicked her gaze over towards May, and while her expression was a little harder to read, she didn't look like she was upset either.
"What is it you like about lunch?" May asked. The corners of her mouth twitched up in a playful smile, and Skye felt herself lightening at the sight.
"I get to hang out with Jemma and Fitz and we can talk about whatever we want to. Sometimes Trip sits with us too, which is fun. Plus there's no homework," she joked.
"Skye, is there anything else that you think Phil and Melinda should know about regarding school?" Miss Hill asked. Skye scrunched her nose in thought.
"I am trying," she finally said. "I know it doesn't look like it, because I have a bunch of Ds and Fs and stuff, but I don't really want to flunk out of this school. A lot of my classes are hard, but I like it here. I have friends here. I have Jemma."
"Thank you for being so honest with us, Skye," Miss Hill said as she flipped open the folder containing Skye's work. "I want to start by saying that I'm glad to have you in my class this year, Skye. And I do not, under any circumstances, think that you are unintelligent or incapable of being as successful as you want to be. Ms. Amador in particular spoke very highly of you in her comments. She thinks you have a real knack for the work you do in her class." Miss Hill shifted slightly in her seat and began to speak more directly to Phil and May. "Skye is very bright, and she has demonstrated a lot of creativity in several of her classes. Several teachers have made comments about her unique approach to problem-solving and her independent spirit." Miss Hill smiled a little then, and Skye couldn't tell how much of a compliment that was really supposed to be. She decided to give Miss Hill the benefit of the doubt and take it as a positive.
"Sometimes this means that Skye can be a little out of step with the rest of the class," Miss Hill continued. "But that's not necessarily a bad thing. I know for me personally it helps me become a better teacher when I get to stretch myself to make sure I'm reaching everyone. There are several subjects in which Skye is not yet performing at grade level, which I think Skye is aware of, but I'm confident that progress can be made. In particular, her work in science and pre-algebra has been an area of concern, and I personally have noticed that reading comprehension in particular seems to be a little more challenging for Skye."
A rushing sound was starting to build in Skye's ears. Nothing Miss Hill was saying was untrue, she had said as much herself moments ago, but it still stung to hear it all out loud from an actual teacher. Phil and May might think the only thing that mattered was trying, but the rest of the world cared about if you passed the eighth grade or not.
"I'm sure the lack of consistency in Skye's education has been a significant factor." Miss Hill was still talking, but Skye was only taking in every other sentence or so. The rushing sound was getting louder, and her chest felt tight. Jemma squeezed her hand, reminding Skye to breathe.
"She's making good progress at home," came Phil's voice. The rushing lessened and Skye forced herself to focus. "She and Jemma do their reading out loud together at home a lot of the time, and Skye's really started to make headway, I think. What do you think, Skye? Has the reading out loud been getting easier for you?"
"Maybe," Skye shrugged. "I guess I don't mess up quite as many words as before. And I always remember the chapters better when we read them out loud instead of silently to ourselves."
"That's good to know," Miss Hill said thoughtfully. "Different people learn best in different ways. It's possible Skye is more of an auditory learner, so doing things like reading out loud may be an effective strategy to help her. Another one that might help is reducing distractions. A few teachers have noticed that focus can sometimes be an issue for Skye."
"Is there a reason for that, Skye?" May asked. "Are you bored in class, or having trouble concentrating?"
"I don't know," Skye said, toeing at the ground. "Not bored exactly, I guess. It's just hard to pay attention to stuff I'm not good at or not already thinking about."
"How so?"
"It's like…" Skye let out a huff of frustration as she tried to figure out how to explain the way her mind wandered off during classes she didn't care for. "Like, if Mr. DeRosa is talking about nucleatrons or whatever—"
"Nucleons," Jemma corrected quietly.
"Yeah, nucleons," Skye amended. "If he's talking about nucleons, but I'm not thinking about nucleons, then I'm thinking about nucleon sounds like nuke, which makes me think of microwaves. And then I'm wondering if microwaves use nuclear power to heat up food and if eating a bunch of stuff from microwaves is going to make us into mutants or something one day, and then I'm thinking about what it would be like to be a mutant person, and if I'd have any superpowers. Then I start to think about what the best superpowers are, and then I'm thinking about the Avengers and eating cereal on Saturdays and how I've never been in a house that watches Saturday morning cartoons like that, and then before I know it, the whole class is moved on to something totally different like life on Mars or something, and Mr. DeRosa is giving us a quiz, but all I've been thinking about is microwaves and superpowers."
"But," Skye continued, "if I'm in a class like computer science, and Ms. Amador is talking about the different ways we use JavaScript, I've already been thinking about that earlier in the day, and I want to hear more about it so that I can keep thinking about it later when there's nothing else to think about. And then we get to actually do the stuff we talk about, like we get onto the computers and practice things and troubleshoot and look for bugs and bad lines of code, so everything that Ms. Amador was talking about feels real, and like it matters, because we're using it right then." Skye wasn't sure she had explained herself fully, but no one was looking at her like she had grown a second head or anything, so she hoped her rambling had been enough to satisfy them.
"That certainly sounds like it would make it hard to focus," Miss Hill agreed. "And actually leads me to something I wanted to suggest to you and Melinda, Phil. If you're thinking about setting up a meeting with Mrs. Hinton to talk about Jemma's coursework, you may want to consider talking with her about Skye as well. Skye, what you were describing just now sounds like an experience that a lot of students have had over the years. Mrs. Hinton has helped a lot of kids figure out some strategies for better focus and concentration, and she might also be able to point you all towards some resources to help strengthen things like reading comprehension and some other important skills."
"It might be a good idea," Phil said, looking over at Skye to check for her opinion. "If Mrs. Hinton has some tools for us to practice, they might help make things a little easier. What do you think, Skye?"
"Is she a shrink or something?" Skye asked. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Or like one of those special teachers they send kids to when they can't keep up in the main class?"
"She's a guidance counselor," Phil said. He looked uncharacteristically serious. "That means it's her job to find ways to help students succeed, especially if they're having trouble doing so in their classroom. And Skye, even if she was a special education teacher, there's nothing wrong with that. You know that, don't you? Special education is important. It creates a way for everyone to learn in a way that works best for them." Skye felt her face go red.
"No, I know," she said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. I know special education is a good thing. Just sometimes other kids don't see it like that." Her mind flashed back to the sneers of Michaela Dodson and her cronies at St. Agnes, and the way they mocked Jemma for her tapping and flapping, or lambasted Skye for her poor grades. Back before Skye had learned to read, Michaela had been one of her biggest sources of torment on the matter, chucking books at Skye's head when none of the nuns were around to try and 'knock some brains into her thick skull,' all the while laughing at Skye's wild attempts to dodge the projectiles. "People can be jerks."
"They absolutely can," May nodded. "And they're wrong. People who act like that are acting out of ignorance, or fear, or a lack of compassion."
"Skye, I'd like to remind you that we do not tolerate bullying of any kind here at Manitowoc Middle," Miss Hill cut in. Skye had to fight to keep her face straight. The leering face of Grant Ward was enough to prove Miss Hill wrong in an instant, but Skye knew better than to open that can of worms.
"Okay, fine," Skye said finally. More than anything, she was ready for this meeting to be over. If agreeing to see the guidance counselor was what it was going to take for them to all be able to go home, then so be it. "We can talk to Mrs. Hinton."
"Great," Phil smiled. "We'll start working on setting up a meeting, then." He started to stand up then, but Miss Hill stopped him. Skye's heart plummeted. She should have known it wasn't going to be that easy.
"There's just one more thing," Miss Hill informed them. "It's clear how much work Skye is putting in, and really, I want to commend your efforts, Skye. I know it can't be easy to start at a new school and to have so much to catch up on. I want you to know we see how hard you're trying." Skye offered the teacher a polite half smile, steeling herself for the 'but.'
"But—" There it was. "There is the matter of grades. Right now, Skye's grades aren't where they need to be for her to pass the marking quarter. I have the upmost confidence that you'll get there," she added quickly, flashing Skye a smile that Skye did not return, "but the fact of the matter is, we need to consider some temporary intervention in order to get Skye where she needs to be."
"I thought that was what the meeting with Mrs. Hinton was for…" May looked almost as dubious as Skye felt. Skye did not like where this was going.
"I think Mrs. Hinton is more of a long-term strategy," Miss Hill explained. She seemed to be choosing her words very carefully. Skye guessed Miss Hill could tell that she and May were both on the defensive. "Essentially, what I'm getting at is the fact that I think it would be best to set Skye up with a tutor for the time being, just to help get her caught up and back on track."
"A tutor?" Skye's jaw fell open, like she was in a bad cartoon. "No, no way."
"There are options," Miss Hill tried to assuage her. "There are private tutors who specialize in middle school subjects, or some of the teachers here might be willing to work with you one on one after school—"
"I'm not doing that," Skye said flatly. She knew she had sounded rude, but she meant what she said.
"Skye, please don't interrupt your teacher," Phil murmured. "I know you're unhappy, but she's trying to help."
"That's not going to help," Skye protested. "I don't want to sit around and get lectured for another extra hour after school, and I don't want to do extra work. I'll work harder, I promise. I'll get better grades. I'll sit at the table so still, Phil, and you can teach me stuff. You're a good teacher."
"I appreciate that," he smiled. "But I think Miss Hill is suggesting something a little more intensive than our kitchen table think tank."
"There's also the tutoring program at the high school," added Miss Hill. "Are you still running that, Phil?"
"No," he said. "I passed that over to Ros a couple of years ago. It got bigger than what I could do by myself, plus she has better connections with some of the other schools for resources and things like that. But it's a great program. Ros has really grown it into a tip top operation."
"That's another really good option, Skye," said Miss Hill. "There are high school students who work with younger kids on the subjects they've already taken. It's all in the high school library, and it's right after school."
"I don't want to do that either," pleaded Skye. "Why won't you just let me get better on my own?"
"I'm sorry Skye, but it's part of our policy here at school." Miss Hill did look like she felt sorry, but not enough to change her position, apparently. "When a student's grades fall below a certain point, this is what the school wants us to do in order to pick them back up. It's designed to help you, I promise."
"Is there a reason why you're so against the idea of a tutor, Skye?" May asked. Skye felt like all of her senses were being flooded by feelings of frustration, betrayal, and anger. She had agreed to see the guidance counselor, but they were still making her do this thing that she so clearly didn't want to do.
She couldn't get her mouth to open or her brain to string together the right words. There had been a tutor who had come to St. Agnes three times a week, and things had not gone well with him, but she couldn't make her words work the way she needed them to in order to explain.
Frustrated, she raked her hands through her hair and let out a disgruntled noise that sounded not too dissimilar from an angry bull. She was building up a head of steam towards a full-on outburst, but the feathery feeling of Jemma's fingers brushing against her elbow stopped her in her tracks. Jemma knew. Jemma could tell them.
Casting her eyes sideways to make eye contact with Jemma, Skye nodded before ducking her head into her hands and propping her elbows on her knees in a posture of scrunched petulance.
"There was a man who would come to the orphanage," Jemma explained slowly. "I suppose he was from the parish nearby. We were meant to call him Brother Jonathan, but we never saw him on Sundays when we went there for church. He was supposed to be the tutor. He wasn't very nice." Jemma paused and checked with Skye, who gave her another small nod to keep going. "He said horrible things to the people he didn't think were very smart. He would make certain people stand in front of everyone else and recite things or work out sums, and he would laugh when you messed up and encourage everyone else to laugh, too. Sometimes he…" Jemma faltered. She took a steadying breath, began to tap soothingly on her knee, and continued. "He would put a dot of chalk on the board, just out of reach, and if you hadn't done your recitation properly, he would make you stand on your tiptoes to put your nose on the dot and stay there until he decided you could stop."
"I know it doesn't sound so bad to have to stand still with your nose on a chalkboard," Skye said through her hands, "but it was terrible. You had to stay on your tiptoes, otherwise your nose would leave the dot, and he would make you keep doing the math problem or reciting the thing you were supposed to learn while you were standing there. If you moved or messed up the answer, he had this yardstick that he'd swat at your legs. It didn't hurt too bad, but it made it hard to keep standing, which would make you move, which would make him smack your legs again."
"That's awful," May said quietly. "Skye, Jemma, I am so sorry you had to go through something like that."
"That's the kind of corporal punishment that's banned from schools these days." Mill Hill looked shaken and pale, like she had never considered that kind of brutal teaching method still persisted. "Is that legal? Can they do that?"
"In Wisconsin it's banned in public schools, but private institutions can still teach and discipline as they see fit," said Phil. His eyes looked heavy. "Most places understand that it's frowned upon, but there are some that prefer the old-fashioned way."
"Skye, I promise you that tutoring at the high school will be nothing like that," Miss Hill assured her. "The students who do the tutoring are all very nice, and they're selected by the teachers because they're the kinds of kids who are kind and patient and who know how to help you learn."
"I don't really have a choice, do I?"
"You can choose what kind of tutor you'd like to work with," Phil said. "Some of your teachers, or the high school program, or an outside professional… but you do have to pick one. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but those are the school rules until we can get your grades up to passing."
"Will I have to go by myself?" Skye's voice was small, and she grimaced at how pitiful she sounded. She couldn't help it, though. Something about the idea of going to a tutor, even if it was another kid, made her feel about three inches tall.
"Not if you don't want to," promised May. "If you go to the high school, Phil can be right there with you. If Jemma or Bobbi wanted to come, they could, but you'd have to ask them first, of course. If you decide to go to one who's not at the schools, then Phil or I will take you ourselves and stay with you the whole time."
"Can I think about it?" The stress of the day and the rollercoaster of a conference has made Skye suddenly feel very tired, and she wasn't sure she could make a clearheaded decision. She didn't want to pick an option she was going to regret in a few weeks.
"Of course," May said. She leaned over and rested a strong hand on Skye's knee. "Skye, I know this doesn't feel like a good thing right now, but we will do everything we can to make this as painless as possible. We're very proud of you and Jemma for being brave enough to tell us about Jonathan, and we're proud of how maturely you're handling this."
"Plus," Phil supplied, "it won't be forever. You're a smart kid, and a hard worker, so I know your grades will be up in no time. Once that happens, you won't have to go anymore."
"Absolutely," agreed Miss Hill. "I really do hate to be the barer of bad news, but I think this will really help you, Skye. I appreciate your cooperation and your willingness to try."
The next few minutes were filled with handshakes, the exchanges of thank-yous and my pleasures, and with Miss Hill telling Skye and Jemma that she would see them tomorrow, and then, just like that, May, Phil, Skye, and Jemma were all back in the car and on their way home.
"Well, I'm exhausted," May said, leaning back in the passenger seat and closing her eyes. "Maria is a lovely person, and I know she's your friend, Phil, but that meeting was long."
"You're right," Phil laughed. "It was a lot of information to take in, for sure. I'm going to be ready to take it easy the rest of the night. What about you girls? How are you feeling about the meeting?"
Neither Skye nor Jemma spoke, offering only a shrug and some light tapping instead. Skye was glad no one had harped on too long about her poor school performance, and no one seemed to think she was dumb, but the one-two punch of being forced to see the guidance counselor and to meet with a tutor had her reeling in a stew of complicated feelings. It seemed like May and Phil had been sticking up for her and Jemma, mostly, not letting them make Jemma change grades again and not acting like Skye was a waste of desk space in the classroom, but then they had gone and made her agree to the tutoring, even after Jemma had explained why tutors were bad news.
"It's not easy to sit there and talk about yourself," May commented. "And it's not easy to sit there and hear other people talk about you, either. But you both did a great job."
"We're very proud of you," Phil said. "Starting at a new school, making friends, learning new things. It can be challenging, but you both have already made some spectacular progress."
"You mean it?" Jemma asked.
"I do," said Phil. His eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror so he could see Jemma while he spoke. "I mean every word of it. What you two have done so far is remarkable, and I know for a fact things will only get easier as time goes on."
Skye knew he meant well, and she figured he probably believed what he said was true. She just wasn't sure if she could ever believe it herself.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Phil tried to make small talk as they all tucked into bowls of beef stew that had been simmering in the crockpot for hours, but even he didn't have much to talk about. May had made an effort to ask how everyone's day had been, and Bobbi mentioned that a girl who was in her French and Spanish classes had offered to teach her some Russian, too, but beyond that the conversations mostly fell flat.
"Who's turn is it to wash the dishes?" Phil asked, once the bowls were empty and everyone's stomachs were full.
"Mine," said Bobbi, getting to her feet with a grimace. Skye didn't blame her for making a face; nobody liked doing dishes, which is why they had all come up with the rotation in the first place.
"I'll clear the table for you," May offered. She stood then, too, and began collecting the bowls and spoons with crisp efficiency. "That way all you have to do is prop yourself up by the sink, instead of going back and forth."
While May and Bobbi set to the task of cleaning up, Phil turned his attention on Jemma and Skye.
"Do you two have any homework left to do tonight? I know we had to cut things a little short this afternoon."
"Just reading," Jemma informed him. Skye shifted uncomfortably in her seat. In her mind's eye, she could see the blank math worksheet sitting crumpled at the bottom of her backpack where she'd shoved it that afternoon, plus the chapter from The Giver they were supposed to have finished and an assignment from Ms. Amador to find an error in a line of code on their class website and fix it. She couldn't say she was particularly interested in doing any of those at the moment. Her brain already felt fried enough.
"So Skye, reading?" Phil pressed. "Anything else?"
"I have something for computer science. We're supposed to fix some code for the class site. I can't do it without a computer though, so I guess I'll just wait until tomorrow…" She was hoping that little detail would grant her a small reprieve, but she had no such luck.
"I'm sure Melinda would let you borrow her computer tonight, if you needed it for school," Phil said. "I'll ask her right now. Why don't you and Jemma do your reading first, and then we'll get you set up on the computer."
Her admittedly weak plan foiled, Skye trudged up the stairs after Jemma to go and grab her book, and the two of them made quick work of the chapter Miss Hill had assigned, thanks to Jemma's lightning fast speedreading. When they returned downstairs, Phil had them recap the events of the chapter. Skye knew he was doing it mostly to make sure they had understood everything they needed to know, but she suspected that he was also more invested in the story than he let on.
"It's really getting exciting, isn't it?" he said, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. It was nice to see his enthusiasm peaking out after such a hard and tiring day, and Skye found herself smiling in spite of herself.
"It's okay, I guess. Still not my favorite book, but better than most of the stuff we have to read for school."
"It's hard to wait to know what's going to happen next," Jemma admitted. She looked a little bashful. "Fitz said he's already finished the whole thing weeks ago, and he keeps trying to tell me how it ends, but I won't let him. I want us to find out for ourselves."
"You've got stronger willpower than some people in this house," May joked, coming into the kitchen holding her laptop under one arm. "Phil always flips to the last page before he finishes. I don't think he can help himself." She finished with a mock whisper and cheeky wink, which made Phil laugh.
"The anticipation is just too much," he protested, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I don't read as fast as you, and I have to know how things end before you accidentally spoil them."
"I do not spoil things," May gasped. Skye could tell she was only pretending to be upset, throwing her hand over her heart like Phil had mortally wounded her with his accusation. "I'm a much better secret-keeper than you."
"You didn't peak at the end of The Giver, did you Phil?" Jemma asked worriedly. "We're supposed to read it together."
"No," Phil assured her. "I've managed to stay strong for you. It's been hard, because it's such a good book, but I promise, we'll all discover the ending to that one together."
"That's very nice of you, Phil," smiled Jemma. "Thank you."
"Anytime," he said jovially. Switching gears, he turned to May. "Alrighty Mel, what do we need to do with this computer?"
"I can set it up at the table for you, Skye," May offered. "Or, if it won't be a distraction, you can bring it into the den. Bobbi's got the TV on, and we'd love your company, but I want you to be able to focus."
"I can do it in the den," Skye said. "I'm used to doing stuff on the computer while things are going on around me." It was true. Normally if she needed to work on the computer, she would do it on one at school, where countless distractions were present in the form chatty kids, nosy teachers, and the symphony of slamming lockers and ringing bells.
"Okay, then, den it is."
They all joined Bobbi in the den then, which had been turned back into its normal state, since Bobbi's real bed had been delivered to the bedroom upstairs a few days after she had first moved in. Bobbi had some goofy sitcom rerun on, but it didn't bother Skye in the least. If anything, the white noise of canned laughter helped her concentration, which didn't exactly make sense, but she wasn't about to question it. Phil laughed right along with the fake audience on the show, and Skye caught the others cracking smiles at the antics of the characters on screen, despite the cheesiness of the plotline and dialogue.
May had given her the password to log onto the laptop, and once Skye was in, she couldn't help but feel electrified by the excitement of having a working computer in her hands. It was like her fingertips were tingling at the prospect of flying across the keyboard. She pulled open a web browser and quickly plugged in the information she needed to access the site where Ms. Amador had posted their assignment.
It took Skye only minutes to spot and correct the erroneous line of code, something she had to admit she was pleased about. Ms. Amador had warned them that it might take a while, but Skye had finished entirely before the first commercial break on the TV. Something about computer codes just clicked in her brain far better than words on a book page or numbers on a math sheet, and she loved the rush of satisfaction that she got when the site followed the instructions embedded into its digital DNA and ran as it was supposed to.
She was about to close out of the browser when she noticed in the corner that May's email was still logged in. A horrible, shameful thought wormed its way into Skye's brain, and as much as she wished she could just pull it out of her head like it was a memory going into the Pensive in Harry Potter, the idea had firmly lodged itself right at the front and center of her thoughts. If May's email was open, then it would only take a couple of clicks for Skye to head to the inbox and find the email from Miss Hand containing the scans of her and Jemma's files. The whole thing, not just the stripped-down digital version Skye had found on the St. Agnes computer, but the entire hardcopy, scanned in by Miss Hand and emailed right to May's address.
Guilt twinged somewhere deep in Skye's stomach, and she knew that she shouldn't even be thinking about violating May's privacy like that. Still, she couldn't get the idea to leave her alone. It wasn't like she hadn't done things she shouldn't have with computers before. She had cracked into the St. Agnes servers more than once, trying to find information on her parents or to gently edit her disciplinary record. She had once managed to find a backdoor into the online gradebook used at one of her old schools and bumped her grades up by half a letter so that she wouldn't have to repeat the 7th grade. Of course, she had been caught and punished eventually for each of those indiscretions (and it had turned out that she didn't need to repeat the grade anyway), so her track record wasn't exactly flawless, but she'd had very few qualms about what she was doing at the time. And while this felt a little different, since this was about May's privacy just as much as it was about Skye's file, the sneaky voice in the back of her mind kept trying to convince her that it wouldn't really hurt anything just to look at that one email. And besides, Skye reasoned, it wasn't like she was going to go snooping for any of May's personal information, just her own.
May must have noticed that Skye had stopped typing, because she looked up then to check on her.
"Finished already? That was fast." She looked impressed, and Skye felt the truth spill out of her before she could come up with anything else.
"Um, yeah," she said, closing the lid of the laptop with a finality that made her heart sink. She had missed her window of opportunity. "It ended up not being all that hard, so it went quick."
"You've really got a knack for that," May smiled encouragingly. "Those skills will be very valuable to you one day when you're looking for a job."
"You think so?" Skye cocked her head to one side. She didn't really spend a lot of time thinking about future careers. The "what do you want to be when you grow up?" question quit being cute by the time you hit double digits, and the nuns hadn't exactly been the most encouraging when it came to developing professional skills. For all the years that Skye had lived at St. Agnes, she didn't think she had ever heard of one of the orphans going to college once they turned 18 and had to leave. Of course, the older teenagers stayed in their own wing of the building for the most part, so Skye didn't always know what was going on with them, but still, she figured she would have heard if something as big as college happened for a St. Agnes kid.
"I do," May told her. "Not that you need to be worried about something like that right now, but if you still like computers this much when you're older, there are lots of things you can do to earn a living that would let you do computer science all day."
"My dad works… worked…" Bobbi scrunched her nose up momentarily as she considered her phrasing. "My dad's company does a bunch of stuff with software," she settled. "He's on the sales side, but there were a bunch of people who did design and coding and stuff like that. It was all mostly over my head, but he'd complain about it sometimes, and I'd pick up bits and pieces."
"And there's cyber security," Jemma added. "Remember what Fitz was talking about the other day? About how the Pentagon hired that person who had accessed their files so that they could help design better security to keep it from happening again?"
"All good options," Phil said. "Although maybe let's not try to hack the Pentagon," he added with a wink.
"I'll do my best to resist temptation," Skye promised.
"It's pretty smart, when you think about it, though," mused Bobbi. "Hire the guy who was working against you so that he works for you instead. Although it doesn't say much about his own loyalty."
"Different people have different loyalties, I suppose," May said thoughtfully. "It sounds like he was the kind of person who was loyal to whoever was paying the bills."
"I don't think that sounds loyal at all," Jemma remarked. "You should stick by the people who matter to you even if they don't have any money."
"But what if you don't matter to the people who matter to you?" countered Skye. The conversation was beginning to sound a little like their lunchtime debates with Fitz, and Skye felt herself getting excited to parse out all of the different sides. "You can't blame someone for not being loyal if they're not getting the same thing back. The Pentagon guy was working for people who let him get in trouble and take the blame. He was lucky the Pentagon didn't throw him in jail."
"That's true." Jemma frowned, considering Skye's point. "Maybe there needs to be trust in order for there to be loyalty, too. That's what makes it real loyalty."
"So then I guess the real question is about who do you trust," Skye decided. She furrowed her brow. The question of who to trust was one of her least favorite ones. It was one that she had answered incorrectly too many times and been hurt by too many more.
"Is this the kind of thing the two of you talk about with Fitz all the time?" Phil asked. Skye and Jemma both nodded. "I'm impressed. You'd both fit right in to the debate days I have with my classes." Jemma got that embarrassed little smile on her face that she got when she was really pleased with herself but was too polite and humble to admit it, and Skye felt her own chest puff up a little with pride. She may be failing her classes at school, and she might be going to see a tutor for the foreseeable future, but Phil thought she could fit in with a high school class, or at least, their debate.
"I hate to put a stop to the discussion in progress," May said as she stood and switched off the TV, "but it's getting late and we should all start getting ready for bed, I think. It's been a full day."
May wasn't met with much resistance, and half an hour later, Skye and Jemma were showered, in pajamas, and clambering into bed. It was May who came to check on them both before they sent to sleep that night, and she paused in the doorway on her way out.
"Today was a little bit of a bumpy day," she said slowly. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "But you both did really well. I know we've already said it, but Phil and I truly are very proud of you. I know it's not easy to sit there and listen to people talk about you, or to have to talk about yourself for that matter." She smiled then, almost bashfully, and Skye was filled with the sense that May probably hated talking about herself as much as she and Jemma did. The thought didn't surprise her.
"Also, Skye," May said after a beat. "I want you to know that we heard you. About the tutor, I mean. I know it might not seem like it, since at the moment you'll still have to go, but it's not because we didn't hear you when you told us you didn't want to go, or when you explained why." Skye felt her ears grow warm. She had hoped that they could have tabled the tutor talk until a later date.
"It's fine," she mumbled. "I have to do stuff I don't want to all the time. It's no big deal."
"It would be okay if it was a big deal," said May seriously. "I had no idea about the tutor at St. Agnes. There was nothing in your…" She stopped herself and took a breath before resetting. "I just mean… if you really don't want to go – if going to see a tutor is going to be upsetting to you – then Phil and I will talk, and we'll figure something else out. I know it's school policy, but I don't want to make you do something that might make you feel uncomfortable. Sometimes in life there are things we have to do, no matter what, but a lot of life allows you to set boundaries for yourself. If this is a boundary that you don't want to be crossed, Phil and I will do our best to respect that. I'm sorry we didn't make that clear sooner."
Skye's eyebrows had crept up her forehead as May spoke. She could barely believe what she was hearing. May was saying that she didn't have to see the tutor if she didn't want to. She was apologizing for making it seem like Skye didn't have a choice. Almost nothing in Skye's life had been left up to her choice. She didn't get to choose which houses she got moved into, or when she got sent back to St. Agnes. She didn't get to choose her school, or what she ate for dinner, or what clothes got handed to her from out of the donation bin. That was just the way things worked when you were a kid, much less a foster kid. But here May was not only telling her there was a choice, but apologizing for not offering it sooner. Skye was, to use one of Jemma's favorite words, gobsmacked.
The more she thought about it, though, the more she decided that there were worse things to be forced (or asked) to do than go see a high school kid after school for help with math. Phil had said he would be there, and that Jemma could come. There would be teachers there to make sure that nothing bad happened. And, if she was being totally honest, she could use the extra help. Still, there was a tantalizing kind of power in being able to say that going to the tutor was something she agreed to. Something she said yes to because she could, not because she had to. Her answer felt like spun sugar on her tongue, sweet and delicate and exciting.
"It's okay, really." Skye made sure to look May in the eyes to let her know that she was telling the truth. "I'm fine with it now. As long as the tutor's not like Brother Jonathan, it'll be okay."
"I can promise you they won't be. No one should ever treat someone else that way, and the teachers will make sure that the tutor is doing a good job." May shook her head with residual disbelief and spoke almost to herself then. "I still can't believe the nuns allowed something like that to go on. Or that they didn't say anything about it in the files."
Skye's ears perked up at the mention of their files. Apparently Brother Jonathan wasn't in them. She wasn't sure if she should be surprised or not at the absence of Brother Jonathan in their records. On the one hand, Skye had had numerous run-ins with the dour tutor, and had received a number of disciplinary actions resulting from her disputes with him. The nuns usually kept a good record of all of the demerits and episodes of wrongdoing. But on the other, Skye had always suspected that certain things got left out or covered up, so as not to dissuade potential foster families or make St. Agnes look too bad for the social workers.
A madcap thrumming was returning to Skye's body, causing her mind to race and electrifying her bones. If the nuns left out Brother Jonathan, what else had they left out? If they had no problems leaving things out, would they have problems putting things in that weren't true? What if the picture they painted of Skye's life was entirely fabricated, designed specifically to make her appealing to potential families? Or even worse, designed to prevent good people from wanting to take her home? Was her file the reason why almost every house she had ever lived in had been nothing short of miserable? Or was it just because it was the kind of bum luck she deserved?
Skye tried to settle down once May had bid them goodnight, but as she lay there in the dark waiting fruitlessly for sleep to come, a single, solitary decision calcified at the very center of her brain. She was going to see what was in that file. No matter what.
These chapters on the conference were weirdly hard for me to write for some reason, so I hope they turned out okay! As always, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! I appreciate you all immensely :)