Page 50 of 4th Degree

The fifteen-minute drive isn’t exactly awkward, but I do have to turn on the radio to cover up the silence. I think fucking her so thoroughly is the only reason she accepted my ride without argument, but her hesitation beside me is palpable, and it’s making me uneasy. Clearly, neither of us knows what to say from here.

When I pull up in front of her house, it’s with the intention of being honest with her and hoping like hell she feels the same way.

But just as I’m about to open my mouth to blurt it out, I see her eyes track over my shoulder, brow furrowing.

“What…” is all she says as I turn to see what she’s looking at.

I don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Her house is what caught her attention, but I have no idea why. All the lights are on, which stands out, because it’s almost midnight and every other house is almost completely dark, but that’s not enough to warrant her reaction. When I turn back to ask her what’s wrong, I realize her frown has been replaced by a look of panic.

“Skylar, what’s?—?”

But she’s already scratching at the door handle, fumbling to get out of the car. When it finally opens, she’s out like a shot.

I don’t question the reaction; I just jump to follow her.

She’s rushing up the steps, shaking so bad that she can barely get her key in the front door. I reach past her to help, but then the lock clicks and the door swings wide open.

To reveal an older woman crumpled at the bottom of the steps, a young boy crouched over her.

“Oh my God, Mom,” Skylar breathes. Then she turns toward the boy. “Joey, what happened?!”

He’s obviously in shock, his eyes wide and his body frozen as he turns slowly toward Skylar.

It takes him a few seconds to answer. By the time he does, Skylar has already rushed over to her mom and begun checking her vitals, her hands skillfully making sure not to move her body too much as she does it.

“She… she fell,” the boy answers. “It just happened. I heard her come out of her room, so I came out to check on her, and right as I opened my door, I saw her trip at the top of the stairs.” His voice takes on an anxious edge. “Skylar, I was taking care of her, I swear. I swear. It just happened so fast… I didn’t even have enough time to call to her, or grab her, and now she’s… now she’s?—”

Skylar finishes her checks just in time to stop the boy from spiraling. Which he’s clearly about to do. His eyes have turn crazed, and his skin has paled. He looks like he’s barely a teenager, way too young to be dealing with this.

“Joey, listen to me,” Skylar says, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, hard, just once. “This isn’t your fault. Do you hear me? It was an accident. She fell. It happens with her disease. It is not your fault.”

Her tone is both forceful and comforting. Forceful enough to make him believe, and comforting enough to convince him she’s not lying. It breaks through the fog of his shock, and he gives her a small nod.

Skylar sees it and lets go of him to turn back to her mother.

“But I need your help,” she says, her hands checking over the rest of her mother’s body. “I need you to call 911, right now. Put them on speaker so I can talk to them. She’s breathing, and her heart rate is normal, but she might be concussed, or hurt somewhere else. I need you to help me.”

Again, the direction is self-assured. Probably one who’s done this before, who’s used to taking control of a situation and leading others through it.

Joey immediately reaches for his phone and follows her instructions.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance to 921 Poplar Street, right away,” Skylar says. “My mother has fallen down the steps and she’s unconscious. I don’t see any visible injuries or obvious deformities, but I need her taken to the hospital immediately.”

“Sending EMS to your address. What’s your name?”

“Skylar Vega. Please hurry.”

I’m still standing in the doorway when their conversation ends, stunned by not only the situation before me, but also by the sight of Skylar falling so quickly into the role of matriarch. I knew she had responsibilities just based on the way she carries herself, but seeing her in action gives me a whole new understanding.

Once Skylar has answered the operator’s questions and has finished treating the immediate situation, I finally feel like I can step in.

“Can I do anything?” I ask, stepping closer.

Skylar’s eyes dart to mine, as if she completely forgot I was here.

She probably did. If I’m going by the looks of things, she’s used to being on her own.

---