My Skylar (14 page)

I put my hand on her arm. “Wait. I want to see it.”

She let out a single laugh. “No freaking way.”

“Skylar, your wig’s been slightly off your head this whole time. I didn’t say anything, so I’ve

already seen part of it.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I need you to stop being so afraid. It doesn’t matter to me.
You
matter to me. I can’t prove that to you if you think it all depends on your wearing that wig.”

She shook her head, and a tear fell down her cheek. She mouthed, “I can’t.”

I fought like hell to stop my own tears from falling and looked deep into her eyes. “Please.”

I had honestly not expected her to go for it. When she lowered her arm, she gave me a

conflicted look and a slight nod, reluctantly giving me silent permission.

My hand shook a little as I slowly pulled the wig back, letting it fall onto the pillow. I wasn’t

nervous to see her bald. I was nervous because I knew she was scared. I worried that she’d

misinterpret my emotions. The truth was, what she had just handed me amidst her own fear had

truly surprised and moved me. It meant that somewhere inside of her beyond the insecurity, she

knew how much I cared about her.

Her chest rose, and she wouldn’t look at me. I understood. Her self-consciousness didn’t keep

me from doing the one thing I couldn’t help, though.

My rough fingertips rubbed along her smooth, perfectly round scalp. Her head was hot with

slight beads of perspiration from the wig, which probably irritated her. And that irritated
me.
The skin on top of her head felt like silk. Her eyes were still closed as I moved my fingers in slow soft circles over it.

All of Skylar’s hair transformations during the phases of our friendship ran through my mind

like a slideshow: the whimsical braids of the little girl who brought me back to life as a boy, the long, rain-soaked tresses of the vixen in the Catholic school uniform. I loved them all, but none

had meant more to me than the vulnerable girl with the soft, smooth head who just put all of her

trust in me.

I moved in behind her, and she rested her back against my chest. I lowered my lips and

planted a kiss on her head. She was too tired to fight the contact. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me.” I kissed the same spot again. “Please know that.”

Tell her you love her.

My mouth rested against the top of her head as she continued to lean against me.

Coward.

I closed my eyes and felt her breathing start to even out then realized she had fallen asleep in

my arms. When I finally opened my eyes, I looked in the doorway to find Skylar’s father standing

there watching us. I flinched and opened my mouth ready to apologize for being in her bed when

he held up his hand.

“Shh. Stay. Don’t wake her.” His eyes were watery, and his voice was shaky. I wondered how

long he had been there and what he had seen.

***

been feeling well last night. The house was quiet since everyone was still sleeping. I went into the kitchen and started to make coffee. The brown liquid dripped down into the carafe. I counted the

drops with disdain, each one signifying another second closer to having to leave her again.

Oliver startled me. “Morning, son.”

I turned around. “Hi. I hope you don’t mind. I made some coffee.”

He nodded. “No, that’s good. I’ll take one black. How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine, just hoping she’s feeling better than yesterday.”

“This can’t be easy for you seeing her like this,” he said.

“I can handle it as long she’s feeling okay.”

“We’ve had some rough days lately.”

“Is she up?”

“I didn’t hear her when I came down.” He pulled up a chair and sat down. “Listen, I know

before this, I hadn’t really been present all that much in her life, but she always has nothing but good things to say about you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please call me Oliver.”

“Okay…Oliver.”

“She’s stuck with me now, but she would never stay here by choice otherwise. I know she’s not

happy here. I wish she knew how much I loved her. I tell her all the time now, but I’ve made a lot

of mistakes with her over the years.”

I handed him a coffee. “She knows you love her, sir…Oliver.”

He took a sip and peeked at me from over the mug. “Does she know
you
do?”

“What?”

“It’s okay to say it, you know.”

I nodded. He was definitely standing at that door longer than I thought yesterday. “I get it.

Thanks.”

***

head, she insisted on wearing the wig around me.

I held the strands back for her while she threw up in the toilet Sunday morning.

“Mitch, you should go home.”

“No fucking way.”

I was scheduled to take the eight pm train out of Manhattan tonight and wasn’t going to leave

her a second before I had to.

That afternoon, she asked me to run to the store for ginger ale. On the walk home, a thought

crossed my mind after passing one of those spinning barbershop poles. I stopped in my tracks.

Should I do it?

Why the hell not? If it would make her feel less alone, it couldn’t hurt. I’d do anything for her.

Bells rang as I impulsively opened the door to the shop. “Take it all off.”

The owner, Luigi, looked at me like I was crazy. “Do you know how many men would kill for

your head of hair, and you want to shave it off?”

When I explained why, not only did he take it off, but he did it for free. Apparently, he had a

daughter with breast cancer.

I took one look at myself in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh. My head wasn’t exactly as

smooth as hers. “I look ridiculous.”

He patted me on my back, wishing me the best of luck, and the patrons all clapped.

Back outside, my head felt like it was going to freeze into an ice cube. I put my hood on hoping

this would help cheer her up.

When I returned to the house, Oliver and Lizete were watching a movie as I rushed past them

up the stairs. Skylar was taking a nap, so I put the ginger ale on her dresser and lay down at the

foot of her bed, waiting impatiently for her to wake up.

I ended up nodding off and awoke to the sound of her screaming.

“Mitch! What the hell did you do?”

“Don’t freak out,” I said groggily.

“Don’t freak out? Before I fell asleep, you had hair like David Beckham. I wake up, and you

look like Mr. Clean!”

I couldn’t help laughing at her reaction. “What…you don’t like it?”

“No! I don’t. Unlike you…I’m honest about it. Nobody actually looks better bald.”

“Well, get used to it. As long as you don’t have hair, I won’t either.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. We’ll be the bald brigade, except at least I can wear a wig. You can’t. All of the male ones would make you look like a 1970’s porn star.”

“I don’t care. I just want to support you, and this is my way of doing it.”

After several minutes, her initial shock seemed to wane, and she rubbed her hand along my

head and laughed. “I get why you did it, but you’re insane, Mitch Nichols.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

Tell her you love her.

“Clearly. I can’t believe you did this.”

“Skylar, I…”
Say it.
“Got your ginger ale.”

Coward.

“Thanks.”

“I have a few more hours before I have to leave. What do you want to do?”

“Just lie next to me.”

“I can handle that.”

Over the next several minutes, she became very fidgety and seemed uneasy.

“Are you okay?”

“My nerves are acting up. Some of the meds cause anxiety.”

“My mom’s therapist told her to create a happy place in her mind whenever she got like that

and then meditate on it. Where would you go if you could go anywhere?”

“Hmm. It’s not really a specific location, but it would probably be like a beach house right on

the water. It would have one of those reading nooks by a large window overlooking the ocean.”

“What would you be reading?”

“Probably smut.”

I laughed. “Of course. Okay, imagine yourself there reading your smut. Whenever you start to

feel nervous, just keep imagining that peaceful place.”

“Where’s your happy place?”

“Lately? Anywhere you are.”

“That’s cheesy, baldy.”

“That’s the truth. As long as you’re there, in my mind, the place is interchangeable.”

She stared at me for a while and suddenly looked sullen.

I gently shook her arm. “Hey…what’s going on? What did I say?”

“Nothing.”

“
Something
is bothering you.”

She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them said, “There’s something I’ve always

wondered but haven’t asked you because I’m afraid of the answer. It’s been eating at me lately.”

My pulse raced. I had a feeling I knew where this was going. “Okay…ask me anything.”

She inhaled. “I know you’ve dated a lot of girls…but have you ever had sex?”

Honestly, I didn’t know how I’d managed to avoid this conversation for so long. I had to be

honest with her.

I swallowed. “Yes, I have.”

She let out the deep breath she had been holding. She looked devastated.
Fuck.
I hated this. I hated that I just hurt her on top of everything else she’d been going through.

Her eyes were watery, and her neck was breaking out in hives. “I suspected but wasn’t sure.

God, I feel so stupid. I had this fantasy, that by some miracle, you hadn’t and that one day, we’d

be each other’s firsts.”

Hearing her say that crushed me. “I wish so badly that could be true, that I could take it back. I

need to explain it to you.”

“Explain sex to me?”

“No…God…just let me talk, okay?”

A tear fell down her cheek. “I can’t believe I’m crying over this. These damn meds.”

I turned to her, and our faces were inches apart when I wiped her eyes. “You’re crying because

you care about me. If you had just told me you had sex with some guy, I’d probably be on the train

right now to go kill him. So, you’re handling it better than I would.”

She sniffled. “How many?”

“Two.”

“Who were they?”

I let out a deep breath. “My first time was with a girl named Leah. She was two years older. It

was back in Long Island right before I moved to Jersey. It wasn’t special. It was a mistake.”

“And your second time?”

“A bigger mistake. It was with Brielle.”

She shuddered, closing her eyes. “When?”

“About a month after I moved here. It was one time.”

“Did you use protection?”

“Of course.”

She looked so sad, and it felt like my heart was in a chokehold. How do I explain to her that it

didn’t matter without sounding like an asshole? I had always regretted that night with Brielle, but I couldn’t take it back.

“I almost wish I hadn’t asked you.”

I needed to find the words to explain to her that no girl has ever mattered to me like she has.

“The first time happened so fast. I worked with her at the local supermarket. She had been

coming onto me for a long time, and I gave in one night. She wasn’t a virgin, and I didn’t know

what I was doing. We never went out again, and then I moved away. With Brielle, it was different.

I had made up my mind to do it. It was almost mechanical. I was testing myself during a time I

had vowed to stay away from you. I thought if I could move faster with someone else, it would

somehow make it easier to be around you and not want you that way.”

“So, you were using her…”

“In a way, but I honestly think she was using me, too. She had just broken up with her

boyfriend. I don’t want to sound like a dick, but it honestly didn’t mean anything. Then, she told a bunch of people at school, and that pissed me off. I regret it.”

“You make it sound like it’s no big deal.”

God, I sucked at this. Tell her how you feel.

“It doesn’t feel like a big deal if your heart’s not in it. All I know is, after the night you and I kissed, I couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else. That kiss alone was the most phenomenal thing I

had ever experienced in my entire life. I'm sorry I can't give you my first time, but you’re the only girl who’s ever had my heart. As long as you tell me to wait for you, I will. I can’t go back and

change the past, but I can guarantee that if you decide to give yourself to me someday, it will

damn well mean something.”

She didn’t have time to respond before we heard footsteps. I jumped up off the bed.

Lizete opened the door. “Oh my God! Wow.”

At first, I was confused then realized she was reacting to my shaved head. I was so worried

about Skylar that I’d forgotten about my hair being gone.

“Yeah, Mitch came home with a little surprise for me.”

Lizete tried to contain her laughter. “Wow…it’s…wow. Anyway, dinner’s ready. Then, your

father’s gonna drive Mitch to Manhattan to catch his train.”

We followed Lizete downstairs without continuing our conversation. The fried chicken and rice

she made tasted great, but I had to force myself to eat it. My stomach was upset because I didn’t

want to leave Skylar, especially while she wasn’t feeling well. She was being really quiet

throughout dinner. Oliver made small talk while she and I stole glances at each other. I hoped she

wasn’t still thinking about my admission upstairs, although I suspected she was.

After dessert, Skylar excused herself to go back to her room. I waited a few minutes before