Page 15 of Jacob

She turns to Owen. “You don’t look so good. You’ve turned a funny shade of green again.”

“I feel horrendous.” He belches, making Skye’s nose scrunch. She looks cute when she does that.

“When was the last time you ate? You look dreadful. You need a haircut and a shave.” She looks him up and down. “Your mother will not be impressed if she sees you looking less than her Brodie standards.”

Owen snarls, “You think I don’t know that, Skye?”

Not deterred, she continues, “Fine, whatever, Owen. I am only trying to help.” She waves her hand casually through the air. “You are no longer my problem.” She turns to me and smiles. “Are you ready to go? Your car is outside waiting.”

I catch Owen’s attention. “You can stay here for as long as you want.”

He bobs his head in acknowledgment.

Walking slowly toward Skye, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Can we talk, just for a minute, please?” he practically begs.

I don’t want to listen to this.

“We really do have to go,” she replies quickly, not giving him a chance to speak. “We have a flight to catch and we’ve said all there is to say, you know that.” She looks down and plays with her fingers. “Oh, I just realized.” She lifts her head. “I have your tee shirt on.” She pulls the faded black fabric, looking sadly at Owen. “I’ll have to give you it back.”

Owen clears his throat. “It’s not mine, actually. It’s Jacob’s. I stole it from him when we were about sixteen.” He points to the now faded, tatty top that looks vintage on Skye. “Funny, I’ve just noticed that she sort of looks like you.” Owen gently smirks.

Skye looks down again at the barely there print of a girl with blonde pigtails licking a lollipop with a butterfly tattoo on her arm. It’s Crazy Town’sThe Gift of Gamealbum cover. One of thesongs on that album I would listen to over and over again. It was my song about her.

She lifts her head, and her eyes slide to mine. “Oh.”

“Keep it.” My voice sounds short and clipped as I head to the front door. “See you when I get back and we need to talk,” I shout over my shoulder at Owen. I didn’t get the chance to speak with him because I didn’t realize he was awake. “When and if you do leave, remember to lock up.”

“Thanks for last night,” he replies.

I wave over my shoulder.

Skye’s little steps quickly appear behind me. “Bye, Owen.” She scuttles into the hallway. “Oh, I just remembered.”

I look back around, but she’s addressing Owen.

“Do you have the receipt for my tablet and stylus pen you bought me for my birthday? They’re not working for some reason so I can’t use them. They’re both still under warranty, but I can’t go back to wherever you bought it from without the receipt. Could you find it for me, please?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Owen points at me. “I didn’t buy it for you. Jay did. I still owe you for those.” He laughs. Fucking laughs. Not realizing he probably just hurt her feelings because he couldn’t even be bothered to get her a birthday present.

He left that up to me to organize. Again.

I clench my jaw.

Skye’s eyes widen in disbelief, while I feel like all the oxygen was just sucked from the room.

“I have the receipt.” As soon as my feet hit my gray gravel drive, the driver takes my case. I climb into the car and pull my phone out of the inside pocket of my jacket to check my emails.

Skye moves into the back beside me and slams the door shut and I keep my head down as the driver pulls away.

I try to focus on my phone, but it’s not long before I find myself stealing a sly glance down Skye’s toned legs. The tiny amount of exposed flawless skin between her pleated skirt and knee-high socks is, yet again, calling out to me.

Fingers crossed on her lap, she fidgets with her thumbs as if they are having a wrestling match. Eventually, she says, “Do you want to talk about any of that?”

“No.”

“You don’t want to talk about the fact that I’m wearing a tee shirt that belongs to you with an illustration on that apparently looks like me?”

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