Skylar's POV

I was ecstatic at the thought of going back home when classes ended, lay around and enjoy the remaining day with Chicken.

But when Alex dropped me in front of my house and I opened the front door, I realized it wasn't locked. Which either meant that I had forgotten to lock the door this morning, or someone had broken in.

Both the thoughts were equally terrifying.

Cautiously, I stepped past the threshold, wishing Alex had waited for me in the driveway for at least a few more minutes. He had driven away the moment I stepped out of his car, something that he did a lot these days. He didn't use to, though. Now that I think about it, Alex and I used to have loads of sleepovers too. We practically lived in each other's houses.

But Alex had been growing a little distant. Which was strange. I hadn't pointed it out in case I was the one thinking too much into it.

"Hello?" I called out as I closed the front door behind me.

A big part of me was expecting the worst, all credits to each and every horror movie I had ever watched in my life. I seriously needed to stop watching them before my own life became one.

To my relief, there wasn't any Catholic nun's ghost or a serial killer in a mask waiting inside for me. It was just my mom and dad in the lounge, looking busy--so much so that they didn't even notice me coming in.

I stopped at the entrance and eyed them in surprise. Dad was sorting out some papers that were spread out in front of him on the coffee table. Mom, on the other hand, was busy with a call. I wouldn't have been surprised if it weren't my parents. My parents who were seldom present in this house unless it was early morning or late at night.

"Mom? Dad?" I plastered a small smile on my face just as Chicken stepped out of the kitchen and made her way towards me. I quickly scooped her up in my arms and stroked her light brown fur.

At the same time, Mom ended her call and looked at me, mirroring my smile. She looked perfect like always as if she had just changed into her work clothes, with her shoulder-length blonde hair combed perfectly. Unlike her, I always had my hair up in a ponytail, the same chestnut-brown that I had inherited from my dad.

"You're here," Mom said before enveloping me in a short hug, not caring that Chicken got squished in between us. Although I'm sure Chicken didn't mind. She loved hugs.

"How was school?" Dad spared me a small smile too, though he didn't look up from his papers.

"It was great." Which was definitely a lie. High school hardly ever felt great to me. "What are you guys doing here?"

That question would've been rude if it weren't my parents. Like I said, mine rarely were at home.

Dad looked up at me this time and chuckled. "You don't want us to be here?"

I shrugged and went over towards the couch, sitting down beside him and letting Chicken curl around in my lap.

"You both are hardly ever here," I said.

Mom's phone rang in her hand and she answered it almost immediately--as if she had been waiting for that call--before walking out of the lounge.

Probably one of her clients, I thought.

"We thought to stop by and check up on you," Dad told me. "Also, we needed to pick up some files and paperwork from here."

The latter made more sense than the former. Why else would they suddenly feel the need to check up on their seventeen-year-old daughter, who might just be a bit fucked up unlike themselves.

Still, I was happy that they decided to come here. It was always nice to have some company in this big lonely house.

I looked down at Chicken and noticed how she was trying her best to chew my sweater down. I held her in my arms as I got up once again, this time to get my cat some proper food.

By the time Mom stepped back into the lounge, she had a bunch of unopened mail in her hands. I couldn't help but wonder how easily she managed to walk in those heels.

"Skylar, why don't you ever pick out the mail? It was stuffed to the very brim, did you know that?" She asked me with a frown.

There's the mom I knew, always disappointed in me.

But I couldn't blame her. It was true; I never spared a second glance to our mailbox whenever I got out of my house or came back in.

"Those aren't for me. They are all addressed to you or Dad." I replied. "Why would I even want to mingle with those complicatedly written mails when they make zero sense to me?"

Dad let out another soft chuckle at that while Mom just shook her head at me. They both knew how much I hated talking about stuff that came with them being lawyers, and that was usually followed by one of Mom's stern looks in my direction. Another reason why we never actually went along that well.

"Well, here's one for you." Mom gave me a pointed look as she took out one white envelope and held it out to me. "Don't tell me you're writing to that pen pal again."

I glanced at Mom, then at the envelope, before taking it from her hands. I never received any such mail. Even the school ones were usually sent as emails. And no, I wasn't writing to my pen pal again. That used to happen when I was just eight. Mom somehow ignored that detail.

"I'm not a child anymore, Mom." I refrained from rolling my eyes at her.

Chicken, who seemed to be done with her food, roamed around my feet as I stared at the envelope in my hands. Even my parents passed me curious glances as if they too couldn't guess who would send me something like that.

They knew I had no friends besides Alex, and Alex would never write a letter to me. Who even wrote letters these days? Maybe it was just spam mail.

Instead of opening it up in front of them, which anybody else would've done, I folded it once and stuffed it in my pocket.

"I'll go and change out of these clothes." I pointed at my white sweater, which had been graced with some cat fur, and headed for the stairs, not even waiting for a response.

Chicken followed me as I closed my room's door and slumped down on my bed, which was situated along one wall of my room. That same wall had almost hundreds of photographs stuck on it. Pictures of Chicken and I, Alex and I, and all those childhood memories that held a special place in my heart.

That, and paint splatters. My room had colourful paint splatters everywhere. And Mom hated that. I think she hated that I painted so messily, or painted at all in the first place.

"What do you think it could be, Chicks?" I asked my cat, only to hear her purr a little in response.

Not like she could've said something a bit humanlike. But usually, her purring was much more comforting than real words. Sometimes, all you needed was a cuddly cat right by your side.

I rolled over on my back and looked up at the ceiling, the plain white ceiling which brightened a little more under the sunlight. I usually never turned on the lights here in my room, as long as the curtain over my window was pulled up. Even at night, the moonlight was enough to spread a light glow within my whole room.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, and found myself replaying everything that had happened today so far,

Getting betrayed for cupcakes by Alex. Slamming into the one and only meanie. Getting a big fat C in physics. Having that short and rude conversation with the same meanie. Finding my parents at home. Receiving a strange mail addressed to me.

Certainly not a normal day.

Sitting up, I blew out a long sigh and saw Chicken pawing at her blue ball of yarn.

"Hey, Chicks, I'm gonna go and take a shower. Please don't scratch down the bathroom door while I'm inside." I said, knowing clearly well that she didn't understand a single bit that I was saying. "Because that freaks me out every time."

Without waiting for a reply, I stood up from my bed and headed inside the bathroom. It wasn't like she was going to say anything other than a meow.

•••••

"Didn't you have one of your tests last week?" Mom broke the silence around the dining table as we all ate quietly.

See, that's what I didn't understand. Mom never cared about anything that was going on in my life unless something happened to me personally. But when it came to my grades, shit usually hit the fan.

"Um yeah," I replied nonchalantly, hoping she didn't hear the nervous edge in my voice. I didn't look up at her either but focused on the plate of spaghetti in front of me.

Please don't ask anything more, mom.

"Must be graded by now." She added and I felt her gaze on me. "What grade did you achieve?" The question I was dreading finally left her mouth and I almost, almost cringed.

Out of instinct, I stuffed my mouth with spaghetti, just so that I would get some time to answer her question.

What kind of excuse would I even make up this time?

I could've lied and said the test papers weren't graded yet, but my school was one of those who always sent graded reports to the parents. My mom always checked them.

Or, I could've said something regarding Mr Frank being sick and how he had been absent today. But I had used that line every single time I got a bad grade in Physics, and Mom was highly aware of that excuse.

Why was my life so difficult?

"Skylar, don't try thinking of an excuse." Mom said as I slowly chewed on the spaghetti.

I looked up at her and tried masking my worried frown. "I wasn't thinking of an excuse."

She scrunched up her forehead at my attempt of speaking with my mouth full. "Skylar--"

"It just didn't go too well." I blurted out the words once I had forcefully gulped down the food.

That might've even been the end to that topic only if Dad hadn't piped in on purpose. My dad loved to see me suffer in such situations.

"C again?" He asked, and when I gave him an accusing look conveying my sense of betrayal, he tried his best to hide the grin from his face.

"That's not--" I stopped sheepishly when I noticed Mom's frown. "That's...true actually."

One thing my mom hated the most were bad grades--something I couldn't help but get in Physics.

"The third time, Skylar." She sounded a lot disappointed now, and I almost shrunk back in my chair. "When are you ever going to learn how to work hard?"

I looked down at my lap and rolled my eyes in disbelief. I did work hard every time, only Mom didn't seem to believe in that.

"It's not my fault, Mom." I leaned back in my chair and ate another forkful of my spaghetti. "You can't expect me to ace a subject that's like a literal fucking hell."

I couldn't have thought of a better time to cuss out loud. My mother was one of those people who just couldn't stand slang words, while I couldn't help and blurt them out every chance I got.

So really, it wasn't my fault.

"How many times have I told you not to say words like those?" She glared at me. "It is your fault. You don't study enough."

What was I? A toddler?

"I don't want you to fail Physics, Skylar. This is your senior year, your last year of high school. You need to be more serious or you won't get accepted into any of those medical universities." She continued, trying to emphasize every word of hers.

I ended up sighing heavily. Even Chicken must've gotten bored by hearing that same lecture from my mom for probably the hundredth time. It would've transformed into a bigger one only if dad hadn't jumped in for my rescue.

"It's fine, Veronica. It's not like she doesn't get acceptable grades in the other subjects." He pointed out and I gave him a grateful look this time. "She'll prepare better next time. Won't you, Sky?"

I nodded almost a little too frantically, directing that at Mom who was still frowning. I couldn't blame her either, even if I wanted to. She just wanted me to be perfect when it came to my academics. She wanted me to go to one of the best colleges out there, choose a career that I would always be respectably known for--just like her and dad.

What she didn't know was that I wasn't only incapable of doing that, but I didn't want it either.

Mom looked like she might argue some more and I was honestly expecting her to, but she thankfully cut me some slack and dropped the whole argument. I silently thanked God.

I'd really have to work on my Physics's grade next time.

"Aside from the topic of your grades," Dad spoke up once again, "we'd be in Florida for a business trip the next few days. And we won't be here to check up on you for almost a week. So if you want, you can go to your grandma's or Aunt Lydia's."

I didn't even have to ponder over his words. No way in hell was I going over at Grandma's and dealing with those pesky, twin neighbours of hers. On the other hand, staying at Aunt Lydia's was like living in a cave. She barely let you use any electronics and it rose to an extremely torturous point.

"No. I'll be fine here." I shook my head at him. It wasn't like staying alone for a whole week would somehow kill me. Even when my parents weren't on business trips like such, they rarely came home. So it wasn't much of a big deal. I think both Mom and Dad knew that too since they didn't say anything further.

Once the conversation steered to a topic related to one of their clients, I took my plate and stood up from the table. Putting it in the dishwasher, I silently exited the lounge and went upstairs, not quite interested in their talk at all.

When I reached my room with Chicken trailing behind me, the first thing I saw was the huge pile of homework scattered on my desk.

Groaning at my life, I flopped down on my bed. At that exact moment, my phone rang and showed Alex's name on the screen.

"Hey, Alex," I answered, blowing out a long exaggerated sigh.

He responded with a small snicker. "Why so gloomy, Sky?"

"Don't ask." I kept it short, not wanting to tell him about the little lecture my mother had just given me. "But I will be cheery again if you're willing to do my homework?"

He snorted in response as if even that suggestion alone was totally idiotic. Knowing him, it probably was.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Chicken dragging my jeans in her mouth. I didn't know why that cat loved eating my clothes.

"So now that you called, when will I be getting those three big jars of Nutella?" I asked, raising my brows at Chicken as she meowed at me.

"I'll buy them tomorrow," I could almost imagine him rolling his eyes. "And bring them to you, your fat highness."

"I'm not fat, you shithead," I replied as I sat up and frowned at Chicken. That's when it clicked in my head.

I had forgotten about that letter, but my genius cat hadn't!

I picked up my jeans from the floor where Chicken had dropped them and slowly took out the folded white paper from one of the pockets. Thankfully, it wasn't fully covered with Chicken's drool.

"Anyways," Alex spoke up once again and I balanced my phone with my shoulder, trying to open the envelope at the same time. "What did he say?"

"Who?"

"Caden, of course."

I looked over at Chicken and she was happily playing with her ball of yarn once again.

"He told me that he doesn't give a shit," I replied with a frown, thinking back to Caden and his alarmingly beautiful eyes and his extremely rude behaviour.

Alex was silent for a while before I heard a breathy laugh from his end. "Well, at least he didn't tell you to fuck off."

"I'm sure he was about to say that too." I rolled my eyes. Caden really needed some help with his social interactive skills. Not that I cared even in the slightest. "So, when exactly is this football practice tomorrow?"

"Why?"

"Just asking."

Alex fell silent at that again, as if thinking. "It'll start after school."

Chicken purred loudly when the ball of yarn rolled away from her paws.

"How about you come over at my house for a sleepover?" I asked before untying my hair out of my ponytail and letting them fall over my shoulders.

"I don't think that'd be possible, Sky." He sighed. "I'll be busy till midnight."

I frowned unhappily at that. "Why? Are you going out on a date with Stacey?" The same Stacey who was way more into Caden than she was into Alex.

"Of course, not. The practice will be...tiring. I'll probably just pass out on my bed after I get home."

I grumbled at that. Guess that was Coach's fault.

"We can do it sometime after tomorrow." He cheered up. "I promise."

Holding onto that promise, I ended the call and finally opened the white envelope in front of me, taking out the folded paper. Now that I looked at the envelope, it really was addressed to me, Skylar Anderson.

Focusing on the paper, I started reading the words imprinted on it.

I read those words twice, then a third time with a confused frown. Those were the only words written on that entire paper.

What was that even supposed to mean?

I didn't know who B.M was supposed to be, and even if I had a vague idea where Chriswood Street was, I had a feeling it was one of those sketchy places near midnight.

I found myself reading it again. Something seemed off about this letter. After all, I knew absolutely no one who would send me such a thing and ask me to do stupid stuff like such. It most definitely sounded like a prank, but then again, no one ever pranked me.

I looked back at Chicken and that cat was already staring at me as if she knew what exactly I was planning in my head.

I mean, it couldn't be that bad.

Who was I kidding? It could most definitely be that bad.