*
The nurse brought me dinner. I ate with the baby still against my chest, a warm lump. The nurse told me to get some rest, and I nodded, but I stayed awake for a while, looking out the hospital window at the skyline. The world was so big. I looked down at the baby, her tiny fingernails, the soft hair on her forehead. I studied her features, looking for him. But I just saw a baby, a fragile little baby. I thought about her alone in the world, hated the helpless feeling it gave me. Who would protect her? Who would make sure she didn’t get hurt?
In the morning, I reminded myself. I have to decide in the morning.
PART TWO
SKYLAR
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JULY 2015
It was slow at the gym, just the occasional clang of barbells in the background, music pumping over the speakers, but I didn’t mind. It gave me a chance to search SoundCloud for some new beats—Patrick was cool with my using my laptop at the front desk as long as I greeted everyone. And it was better than sitting at home with nothing but the TV for company. Sometimes I came in on my days off to hang out. I loved talking with the regulars at the smoothie bar, hearing about their boyfriends or girlfriends, their work problems. One of them was signing in now, a guy named Dave who I thought had a crush on Dallas, but she never even looked at him.
“Have a good workout!” I said.
“Thanks, Skylar,” he said. “That mix you made for Dallas’s spin class was great. Think you could burn me a DVD?”
“Totally!”
I couldn’t play at bars or clubs yet, but I’d been sharing my mixes on SoundCloud and YouTube and was getting a following. I even had a DJ name, “Lark,” because my mom used to call me “Skylark” when I was little. It was fun, remixing popular songs or making mash-ups. I liked taking something already good and finding a new way for people to hear it.
I’d been working on a set list for the last hour, planning my next YouTube video, but now I was just doodling little stick figures all over a notepad. I needed to keep my hands busy all the time or I felt like I was going crazy. When I was a kid, Mom had taught me how to make origami birds because I drove her crazy with all my fidgeting—she’d grab my hands, try to hold them still.
I glanced up at a couple of boys sparring in one of the rings. One of them, Aaron, was always trying to talk to me. He caught me watching.
“Hey, Skylar! Why don’t you come be my water girl?” He pretended to pose, showing off his muscles with a big grin.
I rolled my eyes and looked away. He was cute, in a street kind of way, with a shaved head and tattoos and this awesome scar that stretched across the side of his face, but no way was I going to let him know I thought so, plus he wasn’t my type. Too macho, and definitely too full of himself.
I was dying to ask him where he got his scar from but that would be rude. Plus, he might think I was interested in him or something stupid like that.
I stared down at my stick figures again, drew biceps on the arms and gave them bulging quads, added a couple of doubleD’s to some of them. I heard the door open and glanced up. It was my aunt Crystal. She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes, probably from partying the night before. She was a bartender at a bar near Kitsilano Beach and often went out after work with the other waitresses.
“Hey, Sky. Is Dallas around?”
“She’s in the gym.”
“Thanks.” She leaned over, looked down at my stick figures. “Nice.”
“Work out every day and you too can look this good.”
She laughed. “I’m too lazy.”
“You’re prettier than most of the girls who come here anyway.”
She smiled. “And that’s why you’re my favorite niece.” She grabbed a protein bar off the counter, ripped open the wrapper, nibbled on the corner.
“I’m your only niece.” I smiled back. I was happy to see she was in a good mood today. You never knew with Crystal. Sometimes she’d get into these funks where she was, like, really down, or she’d come into the gym acting all crazy and laughing too loud and pissing off Dallas and my mom.
“Wicked shirt,” she said.
“Thanks.” I glanced down at it. It was a retro Bruce Springsteen concert T-shirt Mom had found at the thrift store, which I was wearing with leggings. I didn’t like jeans because my legs were so long and it was hard to find a good fit.
“Is your mom working?” Crystal said, looking around.
“She’s at the hotel today.”
Dallas was walking by the front desk, carrying a box of sweatshirts. She looked at the protein bar in Crystal’s hand.