Follow the Bright Lights

Skye's POV

It's odd how an hour can change your life.

I met my childhood best friend again. I kissed my childhood best friend. I brought my childhood best friend to my apartment.

No, you perv, I didn't have sex with him. It's not like that. Mitchell was the one who played with Barbies with me. He was the one that played doctor with me when we were like five years old. Sure, we'd seen each other naked, but we were little kids then.

It was weird though, being kissed by someone you'd never had feeling for before.

As soon as his lips parted from mine, I laughed slightly and let him go.

"That was weird," I muttered.

He laughed too and let me go. "Yeah," he said awkwardly.

I grabbed his hand. "C'mon, let's catch up on everything."

Soon we were back at my apartment, sitting on my bed eating Ben & Jerry's and watching What I Like About You. He told me nearly everything he could remember from the day I left to that morning.

"Wait! Weren't you at the mall this morning?!" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah, I was at Starbucks," I rolled my eyes. "I looked terrible."

"Oh shut up, you looked fine! I just didn't notice you!"

"That's because I looked horrible!"

He shoved my spoon in my mouth. "Shush. Eat, you skinny thing."

"Actually, I'm proud to be tall and awkward."

"Hm.. me too," he ate a big spoonful of Cherry Garcia. "So.. if you don't mind me asking, what was it like all these years without me?"

I smiled and put my spoon back into the container. "It was fine."

He looked at me a few seconds and rolled his eyes. "No, really. Tell me. I'm here to listen to everything."

"Well.. I dunno. The past few years have been okay. I just don't like to dwell on the past."

"Skye, we were best friends in the past," he frowned.

"Not that past. I meant like after I moved."

"Well tell me about that," he scooted up close to me and laid his head playfully on my shoulder. "Story time!"

"Hmm.. well.. I moved to San Diego. Well actually my mom forced me to go with her. She took me and we went there and then she got married to this big, hefty guy. His name is John.."

I looked at Mitchell. He was here to listen, not ask questions. Damn, I didn't want to talk about my past. But Mitchell had told me about his so it was only fair.

"My mom didn't love him but we were struggling with bills and stuff," goosebumps crawled up my arm as I thought about the first time my step-dad slapped me. "He.. he abused me."

Mitchell's body stiffened and he sat up, staring at me intently as I continued.

"I thought of you a lot in the first couple of years. He didn't hit me often, and it was only physical abuse.. he didn't rape me or anything. But I was always so afraid that he would come and hit me at night that I didn't sleep often," I laughed bitterly, choking back my tears. "It usually only happened when my mom was away."

He sensed my discomfort. "It's okay. Let it out. I want you to tell me," he said quietly.

I'd never told anyone what my childhood was like. I wanted Mitchell and I to be as close as we'd been as kids and I knew I could trust him, so I told him everything. I told him about not eating and having no friends and failing school. I told him how my mom ignored it.

"In high school I tried to pull through, knowing if I worked hard, I'd be able to get away from him. So I got a few friends and I worked harder on my school work and I got a job to occupy my time. I started buying lots of clothes.. big, beautiful, fairytale dresses. Stuff kids would wear. I still have all that stuff. When I moved away from Ohio, my childhood was over.." by now I was crying.

It was physically painful for me to retell all the harm that had been done to me. He wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug and I continued.

"But I was still depressed. I just hid it easily.." I swallowed back my tears for a moment. "I come home from work one day and that scrapbook, the one you made me when we were little, was all ripped and crumpled on the floor. That scrapbook had been like my best friend since you weren't around.."

"Did your step-dad ruin it?" he asked quietly.

I nodded. "I stood up to him because I loved that scrapbook. That night he hurt me the most.." I sobbed against Mitchell's chest for a few moments, that night so vivid in my mind.
I let him go and lifted up my shirt. There was a scar that ran from my left hip to my panty line. It was from that night. I had to cover up that scar for shoots, it was terrible. Once I couldn't get a job for this swimsuit catalog because of it.

He reached out and touched the scar gently. "I'm so sorry Skye. If I would have known.."

"Mitchell, it's not your fault."

"I should have kept in touch with you."

"We were so little when I left. There was no way you could have found any way to contact me."

"I guess so.." he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck where is this guy? I want to punch him so bad."

I smiled slightly and wiped my tears away. "San Diego. Well.. who knows these days. I haven't talked to my mom since I moved out."

"She knew didn't she?"

I nodded.

"Then she's just as much to blame as he is," he embraced me again and held me for a few minutes.

After that moment of awkward, I let go of him and asked, "Aren't you here with that guy?"

"Kyle? Yeah."

"Well don't you think he's worried about you?"

Mitchell shrugged. "I'm sure he's still at that club getting drunk or whatever. If he's worried, he'll call me."

"Well don't you want to go back to your hotel?" I asked.

He laughed. "Skye, are you trying to kick me out?"

I smiled. "Oh.. no.. I just thought you'd want to get some rest."

"What's the hurry? I want to stay here with you!"

So after a little bit of convincing, Mitchell stayed over. Though I was tired, we spent most of the night talking about my modeling and livelavalive. It was odd, finally having someone to talk to.

But I liked it.