Three

Skylar's POV

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"Didn't you have one of your exams the previous week?" Mom broke the silence around the dining table as we all ate the dinner 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. How in the hell did she find out about that test then? More specifically, my Physics's test?

"Um, yeah." I replied casually, hoping that she didn't notice 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.

"It 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 the spaghetti, just so that I would get some time to answer her question.

What kind of excuse would I even make up?

I could've lied that the test papers weren't graded yet, but my school was one of those who always sent the graded reports to the parents. And 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 literally used that line every time I got a bad grade in any of the test papers, and mom was highly aware of that excuse.

Why was my life so difficult?

"Skylar, don't try to think of an excuse." Mom spoke up 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."

Mom 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 would really have 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 on 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 shrinked 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 each time, only mom didn't seem to believe in that.

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

Honestly, I couldn't have thought of a better time to spill out a curse word. 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 to not 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 in that subject, Skylar. This is your senior year, last year of high school. You need to be more serious or you won't get accepted into any of those universities." She continued, trying to emphasize on every word of hers.

I sighed heavily at that. Even Chicken must've gotten bored by hearing that same lecture from my mom for the third 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. "Skylar will prepare better next time, won't you, Sky?"

I nodded almost 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 honestly wasn't capable of any of that.

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

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

"Aside from your grades," Dad spoke up once again. "We needed to tell you that we'd be going to 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 neighbors 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 at 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 inside 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. The 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 are you sounding so gloomy, Sky?"

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

He snorted in response, as if that mere suggestion 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 two 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 didn'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 his rude attitude.

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." I rolled my eyes. Caden really needed some help with his social interactive skills, not that I cared even the slightest. "So, when exactly is the 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.

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

"I don't think it'd be possible tomorrow, Sky." He sighed heavily. "I'll be busy till night."

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 that."

I grumbled at that. Coach really had bad timings.

"We can do the sleepover 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 inside. 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.

Meet me

I read those same words twice, a confused look forming on my face. 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 heard about the Chriswood Street, I knew how much sketchy that place could be around midnights.

I found myself reading it again. Something seemed off about this letter. After all, I knew absolutely no one who would send me such 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.

After all, checking out the Chriswood Street sounded way more exciting than the homework piled up on my desk. I was certainly aware of the risky consequences, but something in my gut told me to follow the instructions written on that paper.

If I prepare myself properly, I might just make it out from there and find out the reason behind this letter.

Or, my parents might just find out that I left the house at midnight and ground me as well.

I bit my lower lip anxiously, not being able to fight off the sudden curiosity.

And one thing was for sure, my curiosity always got the better of me.