When my eyes finally opened Skylar was staring at me from the other couch. Her arm was resting on her knee, and her head was in her hand, like she was waiting. This was such a natural occurrence as of late that all I could do was look up at her and smile. She was always up before me, dressed and ready for her day (today in a scrunched grey dress that looked more like an oversized tank top on her), and when I woke up, she'd be staring impatiently, ready to ambush me.
"Nice to see you too, honey," I say, flashing her a smile. Her eyes narrowed into one of the creepiest, deadliest looks I'd ever seen on a woman's face. At that moment, I finally noticed the resemblance between her and Andy.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked, her voice dripping with venom that I'm guessing ran in the family. She looked like Skylar, but this couldn't be the sweet, happy girl I'd fallen in love with. Nope. This was her evil twin.
"Andy, what the hell do you want?" I asked, walking upstairs to the bathroom. She came up behind me and hit the back of my head. I grabbed it tight, (it was already throbbing), and gave her an angry stare.
"I'm not Andy!" she yelled, crossing her arms over her chest. I rolled my eyes and went into the bathroom.
"Thanks Skye, because you know I don't think I would have figured that one out on my own."
"You called me Andy, asshole. Or did the drugs and alcohol make you forget that too?"
I turned away from the sink long enough to slam the door in her face. I turned to finish getting ready, brushing my teeth, taking a shower, and washing my hair. I opened the bathroom door and stood face to face with Steve.
"I need to put on pants," I said, staring up at him. I hate being short.
"You're doing it wrong, Shawn," he said, shaking his head slowly.
"I- what? My closet is over there!" I said, pointing across the room. Steve smacked me in the head and I grabbed it again, the headache returning with a vengeance. "Unnecessary."
"Shawn," he said. "She took care of you all fucking night. When you passed out she was still freaking out, running around the house to get stuff to fix your arm up. She cleaned it off with alcohol, not that you needed anymore, put medicine on it and wrapped it up." I was wondering how the bandage got there. "And then she watched you sleep until four this morning. She fell asleep in the floor under you, woke up at six, made me watch you while she got dressed, then sat and watched you again until you woke up."
"Well she must be so proud," I said. I pushed passed him and went to the closet, pulling my boxers and jeans on.
"You know what she's doing right now?" he asked, pushing the closet door open. "She's down stairs, crying her eyes out, and cooking you breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice."
"I didn't ask her to," I said, looking for a shirt.
"I know dumbass! She's doing it because she loves you!" I stopped and looked over at him, mulling my thoughts around in my head.
"She didn't have to be such a bitch," I said, trying to justify my actions. Steve wasn't having any of that.
"Because you're acting like a fucking moron! Before yesterday Skye never knew that you cut yourself. And drunk driving wasn't exactly smart either." He glared at me and I pulled on a t-shirt and walked downstairs, searching for Skye. She was laying on the couch I'd slept on that night, curled up in the blanket watching reruns of The Biggest Loser.
I walked into the kitchen and saw the food. It looked amazing. Not only had she made eggs, bacon, and toast, but she had a short stack of pancakes sitting next to them, heart cut banana slices layered on top under the thick syrup.
I walked back into the living room and pulled the cover off of her face and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry," I whispered. She sniffed and turned to look at me. Her eyes were red from crying and she was welling up with tears again.
"Stop," I said, sitting next to her. "Stop. Don't cry. I hate seeing you cry." I did. Every time she cried it tore me up inside. I couldn't watch it. It was like torture for me.
"You're food's getting cold," she said, standing and guiding me towards the kitchen. She sat down in the chair next to the head of the table, my seat. I started eating and looked over at her. She was smiling at me.
"What?" I asked. She shook her head and closed her eyes. Then, she burst out in a fit of giggles.
"What's wrong Skye?" I asked, laughing along with her.
"Our first fight," she said, wiping tears from her face. "Not exactly what I'd expected."
"Tell me about it," I said, grinning.
"Well, I didn't expect us to be fighting over the fact that you cut yourself. I expected us to fight over something else, like Mark or Bret, or hell, even Andy! Or something like the remote or where to get married or what to name our kids. But no."
"Where to get... what to name our kids?" I asked. "Planning for the future?"
"Well," she said, pushing her hair out of her face and glancing away from me. "It's not like I've been planning our wedding since I first met you back in ninety-five or anything silly like that," she said with an awkward laugh. She flashed her eyes back to me. "Because that would be weird?"
"Just a little," I said. She glanced at the bandages and back at me, her eyes turning sad again.
"Is it because of Mark?" she asked, looking up at me solemnly. I shook my head.
"I... I guess it's time you know the whole truth," I sighed, taking the last bite of my breakfast. I chewed and thought, finally gathering the whole story.
"Okay, so you already know about how doped up I was in the 90s, right?" I ask. She nodded. "Well, to start things off, rehab was a bitch. And on top of that I kept getting shit about the whole screwjob and shit, but I was used to that by then. I got clean, met Rebecca, had a couple kids, and everything was good, until I decided to return to the WWE. Rebecca started complaining all the time about how horrible of a father and husband I was. And plus, being on the road without your family, its hard. But I tried to get around it. Until I found out she slept with Hunter."
"Shut the front door!" Skye yelled, slamming her hands down on the table. "She didn't!"
I nodded. "She told him I was fine with it, and in the past I would have been. He's an idiot, so I never got mad at him about it, but she came to me with the divorce papers and I lost it. I left home and drove to the park, drank half a bottle of Jack and threw it at a tree. I picked up a piece and grabbed it so hard that I started bleeding. But it felt so good, you know? I've been at it ever since. Every time I fuck something up, like I always do, like I almost did with you," I said, grabbing her face. "If I lose you, I don't think I'd make it."
"Baby," she said, a slight frown on her face. "We all have problems. And I know some are more difficult that others, but you can't do this to yourself."
"I know," I said. "I've been trying, but it's tough."
"Well, come talk to me," she said, putting her hand on mine. "I'm gonna be here for you forever. And don't let the little stuff get to you. I mean, look at me. My big brother is doing a movie about tooth fairies, for goodness sake."
I nodded then stopped. What?
"Skylar, Ted's in The Marine 2. Not The Tooth Fairy. That's Dwayne Johnson."
"I know," she said, giving me a strange smile. "My older brother, Rocky." I met her with a bewildered stare. "You didn't know Rocky Johnson was my father?"
"No," I said. "You're The Rock's baby sister?" She nodded. "Soul Man's daughter?" She nodded again. "Do you have any more family I should know about."
"Well," she said, playing with her hands. "Um, well, Stu. He's like, by godfather."
"Stu?" I asked. A panic released itself inside me and I felt my heart race. "Stu Hart?"
"Mmmhmm."
"As in the father of this week's guest host, Bret the Hitman Hart?"
"That would be the one," she said, still not looking at me. "But we don't have to let this get in the way or anything, do we?"
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"You didn't ask sooner!"she said angrily. "But, we can worry about that when the time comes. Right now we should go get ice cream."