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17
Dylan
The journeyto Sky’s flat takes a couple of hours but feels like half a day. Following the disastrous conversation with Jem, Sky closed down and told me she needed to go back to Bristol. I’m scared to ask if she’s leaving. Her demeanour toward me has cooled and although she’s talking to me, there’s a distance between us. Sky hasn’t mentioned the conversation with Jem again. I want to broach the subject, but the roads need more concentration than usual due to the wintery weather. I turn some music on, and focus on the sound rather than the emptiness in the car.
The afternoon threatens snow once again, the winter at odds with the sunshine I could be in if I’d stayed in LA. If this latest revelation has fucked things up with Sky, then I won’t stay around in England.
When we arrive, Sky stares up at the window to her flat and after a few minutes of silence, I climb out before walking to open her door and she steps out, not looking at me.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Not looking forward to this.” Sky shifts her thick black jacket around herself, pulling the collar tight.
I fight against sighing with relief that the silence isn’t because of me. “Everything should be how we left it the other night. Steve sorted new locks too.”
“Yay for Steve,” she mutters.
She climbs the stairs in a slow, weary way and I pass her the key Steve had cut, hating that her hands tremble as she places it in the lock. I wish Sky would let me take her away from everything; give her somewhere comfortable and happy to live and not a shitty flat trashed by arseholes.
The winter afternoon darkens the room and Sky flicks a light-switch. The un-lived in, cold atmosphere isn’t helped by the lack of heating. She can’twantto stay here.
“Why did they leave the curtains open?” Sky crosses to the window and yanks them closed.
All she brought with her was a large handbag; I’m clueless as to what she’s doing. Packing? Staying?
She sits on the sofa and looks at me. “I waited and you’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Not explaining yourself. Communicate, Dylan. Or are you going to disappear again?”
“I’m not sure what to say...”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks coldly.
I hover in the doorway and drag a hand through my hair. “Which part?”
“The part about telling Jem that Lily wanted sex with him, manipulating the situation so you got your chance with her – and all for revenge. That’s fucked up.”
“Now you know why I blame myself,” I say softly.
Sky shifts the glare from me to her hands. How much does this change things? Permanently?
“Why didn’t you tell me when you supposedly told me the story? That’s one hell of a gap.”
“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I should’ve done.”
“Damn right you should!”Oh, shit, this is over. “No, what Jem said doesn’t change anything, but I’m bloody upset you left something major out of your story.”
I approach and perch on the sofa next to her. “I’m sorry.”
“And Myf?” she snaps. “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
Oh, great.“Fucking Jem… Yeah, we had a thing – when I was seventeen!”
“And that’s all?”
I touch Sky’s face, desperate she won’t close me out. “Yes, a teenage thing that didn’t work out. I was too focused on the band, didn’t give her the attention she deserved, and she found someone who did. Things were better that way; we’d created one of those situations where friends cross the line and screw up the friendship.” I pause. “Plus, Jem wanted her. Beginning to see a pattern here?”
