Page 2 of Wings of a Butterfly

SKYLAR

“...On recent news. Susan Carver, a twenty-one-year-old college student, has been missing for thirty-one days. She was last seen at a music festival in Arkansas. Her parents say she is a smart and responsible girl...”

“Skylar! Earth to Skylar.” Nicole’s waving her hand in front of my face.

“Uh-huh, yep.”

“Did you hear anything I said?” She’s standing with her hands on her hips in front of the TV.

Without responding to her, I shove another spoonful of cereal in my mouth and look up at her innocently. “Mmhmmm, yep.”

“Can you please answer me without your mouth full?” She hates it when I do that. It’s been a habit I can’t seem to break. She tells me repeatedly of her Misophonia, a condition that affects her; she has a severe hatred of hearing people chewing. It never sticks in my brain. I’m so forgetful at times.

I swallow my food before answering her. “Yeah, sorry, Nicci. What’s up?”

“I scored us tickets to the music festival happening in Memphis!” She’s squealing, jumping up and down.

“When is it?”

“Tonight.”

I groan.

She is the more outgoing one, the extrovert. Me on the other hand, I’m an introvert. Let me stay home, curled up on the couch with a book, and I’m good. After my most recent fight with my dad, she’s been trying to cheer me up.

He doesn’t understand my sexuality and constantly states, “You just haven’t even tried dick yet. You don’t know what you like.” I can’t help but roll my eyes at the memory. Same broken record of an argument, but new, shiny consequences. This time he’s holding my tuition over my head. It’s outrageous. I still don’t understand Boomers and their logic. He hasn’t been the same since Mom passed away from cancer my senior year of high school. I’ve been keeping him at a distance from my life ever since, but some of the things he says still bother me. I hurt, too, but that never mattered to him.

She gives me a disapproving look. I decide to feign excitement for her because at least she’s trying. “I mean, yay?”

“Oh, come on, Sky. It’ll be fun, and you need to get out of those PJs you’ve been sporting for the past three days. Plus, I know you had a fight with Steven. So, I’m taking you out.”

I whine indignantly.

“Oh, stop your pouting. Come on, I’ll pick out your outfit.”

“Okay, but only because you called him Steven and not my dad.” I know it’s wrong, but my dad has never really been my dad. We never bonded, never played sports together, and we never talk unless he’s hounding me about when I’ll be getting a boyfriend. He will never accept me for me.

We spend hours getting ready for tonight. Nicci does, anyway. It takes me a few minutes of Nicci throwing clothes at my face and yelling at me to put them on. She’s the more fashionable one in our dynamic.

“Are you ready for this?” Nicci turns to me with the biggest smile on her face. Her smile always lights a fire in my chest. I can never deny her when she gets like this.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Do you think I look fat in this?” I pinch at the roll that comes up over my skirt. Why do I let her talk me into these things? Nicci cut up this old band shirt I had on. I’m showing way more skin than I normally do and it’s making me feel uncomfortable. I pull the skirt up so that it covers up more of my exposed stomach.

“You look fine, babe. Stop messing with it.” If only I could be as confident in my own skin as she is. She’s gorgeous in her fishnets and short shorts. She looks like a rocker chick, and her vibrant green dreads just pop against all the black clothes. “Come on, or we’re going to be pushing it for time. Also, I’m driving. We already know how you drive, and we don’t need to get pulled over on the way there.”

I groan at the memory. “Yeah. I know. Did you get the stuff?”

“Yes. I did, but you aren’t getting any till we get there. Now let’s go.” Nicci grabs our stuff and heads to the SUV. I’m nodding my head, even though she isn’t even looking at me anymore.

We start walking out of my room when a green flash of light catches my eye. I look over my computer desk thinking I left it on or something. Nothing.Huh, weird.

Nicci’s voice carries from the front door, “Are you coming, Sky, or not?”

I shrug it off. A trick of the eye. Wait, is she giving me a choice? Because I’ll choose to stay home all day long. I know she meant that as a rhetorical question, but one could hope.

“Are you saying I have a choice?” I yell back at her.

“No.”

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