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It was 10 pm on a Thursday night.
Skyler stared desolately into her mint tea, eyes red and puffy from all the tears.
At least now she knew, she told herself.
At least now she could move on.
Except – no she couldn't. Cherish had somehow stumbled upon the exact words in the English language that guaranteed she couldn't possibly move on.
Casey entered the kitchen, humming to herself cheerfully.
Skyler turned her head away from her.
“Did you put the kettle on just now? I could go for some tea too,” Casey told Sky.
Sky dabbed at her eyes and looked back.
“Yeah, I just put the kettle on,” Sky said.
“Oh, honey. Have you been crying?” asked Casey, her voice dripping with concern. “What's the matter?”
Then Casey attempted to give her a hug and Sky dodged her.
“Allergies,” said Sky, “I think.”
“You think you might be allergic to something?” Casey started nattering. “You should do an elimination diet. I did one of those in high school. Although, my allergy turned out to be psychosomatic... Maybe we should start with dairy, it's a common allergen... I think? Or perhaps it is just a common intolerance... I'll have to look it up.”
As someone who had been raised in France, Sky considered the possibility of life without cheese completely unbearable.
“Not allergies. I just -” Sky scrambled, “- I don't want to talk about it. Where's Dad?”
“Oh, he's passed out on the sofa. Are you sure you don't want to talk to me about whatever it is, though?”
Casey looked at her with big, blue eyes brimming full of familial compassion and understanding. But they just made Skyler feel like – her blood wasn't boiling but, God, it was on the simmer.
“Thanks for the offer but I'd rather speak to my father about this sort of thing,” Sky replied in a clipped sort of way.
Casey gave her a half smile.
“I understand,” said Casey perkily, “but are you sure I can't help? Girl problems can't be so different from boy problems. Trust me when I say, I have been there. If it's a friend problem or a sibling – I mean, cousin - problem, I've been there too. If it's an academic problem, that's my forte. Whatever it is, you're -”
“- have you ever loved someone and hated them at the same time?” Skyler asked out of the blue.
All the blood rushed to Casey's face.
Skyler thought that Casey was looking at her like she had just slapped her in the face. Skyler also thought that, to be fair to herself, she hadn't known that she was going to ask the question until the words had left her lips.
However, she had sort of wanted to slap Casey in the face. If only to get her to shut up. The question, in retrospect, seemed like a good non-violent alternative.
“Ummm,” Casey responded, her powers of speech finally failing her, “I'm not sure I understand the question. No? I don't think so.”
Casey couldn't look at Sky.
Sky didn't notice though because she was looking down at her tea.
“I have,” said Sky as she stirred her tea. “Do you remember that you once told me that, if I like someone, I should just tell them? No games. No mincing words. Straightforwardly.”
“Oh, is she straight? Then that would be bad advice, I'm sorry.”
“No,” said Sky.
“Oh, is she dating someone else?”
“No.”
“Oh. I'm so sorry, Sky. You can't let a rejection get you down, though. You shouldn't let it affect your self-esteem. There's no rhyme or reason to these things sometimes. There was this guy once who was really into me and he ticked all my boxes but there was just no... chemistry, you know?”
“I didn't say that she doesn't have feelings for me,” said Sky. “She told me she does have feelings for me, in fact.”
“Oh,” exclaimed Casey, “but -”
“- her family is some niche Christian strain of homophobic. So she said she'd prefer to go down the path of least resistance. The path of least fucking resistance.”
There was an edge in Skyler's voice that Casey had never heard from her before. She certainly didn't know what to do with it. Casey's first instinct was to scold Sky for swearing. She didn't. It would be such a childish and trite thing to do under the circumstances.
“Ah, I see,” Casey managed. “I'm so sorry, Sky -”
Sky shot her a rueful grin.
“You keep saying that,” Sky told her.
“I'm sorry – I'm sorry for saying sorry. That does sound horrible. For what it's worth, it doesn't sound like the worst reason in the world to be rejected.”
“For what it's worth? That's worth nothing! It's a terrible reason to be rejected. If her family won't accept her for having feelings for me then maybe she shouldn't accept her family.”
Casey cast her gaze down to her shoes and tried to think of something better to say.
“To be fair to her, Sky, you don't know what it's like to be in her shoes.”
Sky glowered at her.
Casey considered cutting her losses and running. She was beginning to suspect that she was just making the situation worse.
“You see this is why I wanted to talk to my Dad. He'd just tell me that she's an idiot and that I'm better off without her.”
Casey shrugged and smiled winsomely.
“I can say those things too if you want me to.”
“You wouldn't mean them, though,” Skyler said.
...
“He couldn't mean those words either but at least he'd sell them better than you could,” Sky muttered.
“Sky, it's a lot to ask of someone,” Casey started, half-wondering why she was so set on playing devil's advocate for this mystery girl. “It's a lot to ask of someone, to go against what their family wants for them. Also, if she's your friend, you'd be rocking the boat in lots of other ways. You know as well as anyone that high school relationships often end with both parties avoiding each other when things finish. Which they usually do. Most relationships end that way, even outside of high school. Maybe you're better off as friends. And, who knows, maybe in the future -”
“- I'll be in with a chance? Funny. That's what she said and, frankly, I wish she hadn't.”
Casey softened her voice in an attempt to pacify Skyler as if that might take the sting out of her words. Still, she continued to double down.
“Maybe the feeling will pass in a couple of days. It is high school. Feelings that develop there usually do.”
Skyler smirked bitterly as if Casey had just made a joke.
She'd had feelings for her best friend for two years now. They weren't in danger of going away anytime soon.
Skyler leaned against the kitchen island and looked pointedly through the frosted glass of the door.
“Yeah. And sometimes they're like cancer,” Sky stated plainly as if it wasn't the most dramatic thing she'd ever said in her young life. “You know.”
Casey didn't know what to say to that.
“Good night, Aunt Casey,” Sky said, with a cursory glance in her direction.
Sky closed the kitchen door behind her.
“Good night, Sky,” Casey called after her.
She never calls me her aunt, thought Casey. Why did she say it like it was such a bad thing to be?