She walked into the house and threw her bag down by the door. They were yelling again.
Fantastic.
It wasn't like it was anything new for her to walk in on a full-blown gloves-off argument, but she did get sick of them and this was the fifteenth one this week. She didn't like hearing them fight, but it was worse when they were getting along…because then they were ganging up on her.
She tried to be quiet, even avoiding the squeaky third step, but a footfall is too heavy, or she accidentally hits the step because she hears, "Skye!" She closes her eyes and pauses momentarily before turning around and going back down the stairs, into the kitchen. "Yeah, Mom?"
"Your dad is in a really bad mood. Might be best to stay out tomorrow. Here, keys, you can sleep in the car tomorrow night and twenty dollars for supper." Skye nodded. When her dad got mad he could stay mad for a week. She knew what her mom was doing. Getting her out of the way until her dad calmed down because he was…dangerous when he was angry. Her mom was planning to take the worst of it, the yelling, the silent treatment and then the outbursts, having to tread extra careful around him. It was very rare that her father ever got violent, but when he blew, he blew big.
"Mom, listen," Skye began, "if you'd like to take my room tonight I can sleep on the couch."
"No, honey, I'll sleep on the couch."
"Mom, stress is bad for the back." She insisted. "Sleeping on couches is bad for stress. Take my room. Please."
"Okay," her mom smiled tiredly, "thanks."
Skye smiled back. "Hey, we're smiling." And then they were laughing, because they were actually smiling, and the realization that that's why they were laughing made them laugh harder, and it was such a relief. She looked at her mother and remembered why she would never do what Hannah Baker did. Her mother needed her. And it was enough to convince her for one more day.
The hallways are bustling with students. It's between first hour and second hour and everybody is running around trying to get to their next class in the allotted, approximate thirty seconds. Except her. She's in no rush to get anywhere. She doesn't want to be on time, and as a straight A student she'll get away with it.
"Watch it!" She hasn't punched anyone in two years, thanks so much and she would not start something with this girl. Not now. "You watch it, underclassman." She growled into the sophomore's ear. She continued on her way—she didn't want to tempt herself. That was the crux of things. There was always a temptation.
Her eyes met Clay Jensen's, just briefly, but she took a determined breath and pretended like she hadn't seen him.
Sorry. Late, bedtime, zero hour at seven in the morning, I know it's short. I'll have a better longer chapter for you soon. Promise!