Thirteen
“Sky?”I knocked on the only room with a closed door, the room I slept in. My mom’s old room? My room? I wasn’t sure what to call it yet. I wasn’t comfortable enough yet to think of it as my own space, maybe after a few more weeks.
“Come in.” His voice was softer than I expected. Defeated. So unlike the confident teasing tone, I associated with him.
I opened the door enough to slip in and shut it behind me. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands that were propped up on his knees. When he didn’t move or speak again, I closed the distance and sat next to him.
For a few moments, I let the silence continue, but it felt so wrong. Sky was the life of the party. His energy filled any room he entered. He was the bright light that beaconed people to him. Friends with everyone and enemy to none. He was the one that waved and greeted nearly everyone he passed in the halls at school. It was nearly impossible to ignore him. Being around him lifted you up. It was addictive.
This wasn’t my Sky though.
He was in pain. His sorrow wafted off him like physical waves and broke my heart with each beat.
“Sky.” I spoke softly as if I would startle him.
After a painfully long wait, he turned enough to look at me out of the corner of one eye. “What did they tell you?”
I hated seeing him like this. I wanted to tell him it was nothing. That I’d been joking and didn’t know why he was upset, but lying wasn’t what he needed. He deserved to know the truth.
“They told me about streaking down Luca’s street, breaking into homes, and the pool incident.”
His shoulders slumped.
“Sky, that doesn’t sound like you.” At least, not the version of him I knew.
He dropped his head farther. “I was different. Before we met.”
The guys hinted at that, but what did that mean? I wanted for him to continue, and with a heavy sigh he did.
“Before you moved here, I was struggling. I felt like I didn’t belong.” He shook his head, “Like I wasn’t good enough. I was constantly compared to how smart Gavin was, how much better Noah was at water polo, how good-looking Luca was, how resilient and strong Vince was. Then, there was me. The slacker. The class clown. The one who managed to exist just below the radar. People knew who I was and were fine laughing at my jokes, but no one cared to know me. They didn’t stop to get to know me. No one wanted to.”
I reached over and put my hand on his leg. None of this matched how I saw him.
“By ninth grade, I was over it. I was sick of being the funny one that no one, not even my parents, took seriously. So, I gave up. I said fuck it and lived up to their expectations. I started getting into trouble at school. Then, things kind of spiraled, and I got in trouble with the police. A few times. It was the first time my parents took me seriously. They actually paid attention to what I was saying.”
I gripped his thigh and leaned against him but didn’t speak. I wanted him to get everything out.
“They sent me to therapy as a part of fulfilling court orders. I refused to say anything the first session, but the second time something snapped in me. I didn’t want to be who I was anymore.”
I swallowed back the tears that were threatening to burst. That was exactly how I felt after the accident. How I felt up until I became friends with them.
“She diagnosed me with depression and wrote a prescription.” He stopped and looked at me. “A few weeks after that, I met you. I realized I had a chance to start fresh. You didn’t have any preconceived ideas about me. You allowed me to be a blank slate and show you who I wanted to be. The guys were just happy to have me back to normal, so they agreed to let things go. They said the past would stay there, and we could all move forward.”
Did he think this changed how I saw him? That some stories could alter how I felt about him?
“Sky––”
He twisted and looked into my eyes. “I want you to know I’m not that person anymore. I still see my therapist a couple of times a month, and I don’t feel . . . like I used to anymore.”
I reached for his hand and wrapped both of mine around it. “I’m glad you told me. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about anything, the good and the bad. I’m not here to judge you. I understand feeling lost and like you don’t matter.” I ducked my eyes. “None of this changes how I feel about you.”
He let out a breath like I just pulled a boulder off his chest. “Thank you, Ave.”
I smiled at him and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. When I pulled back, he was smiling too.
“Do you want to go back down?” I asked.
The corners of his lips quirked up, “We could stay here.”