Chapter 2
“Did you make any friends?” May asks just as I put a mouthful of pasta in my mouth. I look up at May and chew as fast as I possibly can. I swallow, my throat making a weird sound. The weight of Jody's body lies upon my feet as he’s sleeping under the dinner table. His body warms my shoeless feet. I can feel as he breathes, his chest expanding as air fills his lungs.
“Maybe,” I answer shortly after taking a breath, I proceed to go for another bite of pasta. I don't really feel like talking, especially not about my social life, it’s not like there is much to say about it.
I like that they care, but sometimes it can be too much. I’m not really used to talking to others, I don’t really know how to do it. I usually act like I don’t actually want to answer, it’s easier than to showcase my feelings. I can’t help it. When you've been alone your whole life your social skills might not be the best. I’m really good at reading people but talking to them is a different story. Sarcasm usually works well when talking to nice people.
“Oh, why do you have to act so much like a teenager?” Coulson asks with a mocking tone, I see that he’s trying to suppress a grin. One of his eyebrows slightly raises as our eyes meet. His mind automatically wanders off to Natasha. The girls are too much alike. That’s probably why he felt so attached to Skye in the beginning when he barely knew her.
“‘Cause I am one.” I throw back at him. A smile forces its way onto his lips as he can’t deny the similarity between Natasha’s attitude and Skye’s. He remembers Natasha’s sassy comebacks all too well, how she liked to act like she was annoyed when really, she was happy.
“I might have gotten two new friends. And they might go to my school, they might also be sophomores.” I confess after a few moments, my eyes removing their gaze from the plate in front of me. As I look at Coulson, I can see a spark in his eye, I’m not quite sure what the spark means but I can’t help but smile. It quickly disappears as I realize that I’m smiling.
Sometimes I just feel like I’m not allowed to be happy. All I’ve ever done is cause pain, why would I be allowed to feel happiness? My therapist tries to tell me to not think that way, but to be honest, she’s quite a bitch. I’m tired of listening to old people telling me what to do.
“That’s great. What are their names? They might be in any of our classes.” May asks, looking at me.
She wouldn’t like to admit it but there is a part of her doubting that Skye actually made friends. Skye’s quite the outsider, very antisocial. She doesn’t make friends, she has gone to the same school for a year and still hasn’t made any friends. She understands, but it hurts her to see how alone Skye is all the time, spending all her time deep in some book or drawing in her room.
“Uhm, Simmons, and Fitz. They’re pretty nice.” I say. I can see how May looks over at Coulson to confirm their shared excitement over my new friends. His eyes are looking at me.
May can see that he’s proud. Skye has come quite far from who she was when they found her on the bridge
“Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz? They’re lovely kids. Really brilliant, too. Very sweet, great company.” Coulson says and moves his eyes to look back at May, who is just swallowing some water.
Coulson’s glad I’ve made friends with Simmons and Fitz, I can see it in his eyes. I know he worries about me a ot, he worries that I won’t make any friends. He clearly doesn’t want me to be alone. I get it, I don’t want to be alone either but sometimes I feel the pressure to get friends just to satisfy Coulson. I feel that if a managed to get a friend I could at least repay him a little for everything he’s done for me.
“May I be excused? I got homework.” I then quickly ask. My eyes are locked on my empty plate. I can’t really continue to sit here and talk. I usually have no problem sitting through dinner, I like it even — We all talk about our day, like a real family, and for a brief moment, I feel like my life is normal. But today has been stressing and I’ve felt off since school ended, I've just been longing to get back to my room to be alone. Being around people for too long stresses me out. All my energy goes to thinking about other people’s impressions of me.
“Is everything okay?” Coulson asks worriedly, Skye rarely asks to leave the table before everyone’s finished eating. Coulson guesses that she’s too afraid to do it. He has read that most foster kids are afraid to ask about things. It's been almost a year, but he thinks her anxiety makes it worse.
“Uhm, yeah. I’m just tired and, like I said, I have homework.” I say, still looking down to avoid eye contact.
“Okay, of course, you can leave,” Coulson says.
***
I lay in my bed, my blanket weighing on me as I stare emptily into the abyss. My mind is chaos, everything floating around, I switch thoughts every second and my mind can’t decide what to actually think about.
The thought of things I have to do gets stuck longer than the others. reminding me of all the things that have to be done, everything that I need to do. They’re all just small things but it still stresses me out.
I have a history test next week, I need to study. I just need to take a book out of my bag and read some pages, why does it feel like such a difficult task?
I have driving lessons the day after tomorrow, I hate driving. It gives me anxiety. When I drive, the only thing that I can think of is all the things that can go wrong. I hate it. But I have to get a driving license, I need to be able to get around, it would be wired if I didn’t have one, everyone else does.
My room needs to be cleaned but I just can’t get myself to actually start, I just think about doing it until I realize I have other things to do, and the next day it’s even messier and the thought of cleaning makes me exhausted.
I need to get the laundry from downstairs, I need to throw out the trash, and I need to organize my bookshelf.
So many things to do. Why am I just lying there? Why don’t I actually get up and do it? It’s not that hard, is it? I need to do stuff but instead, I lay there thinking about doing stuff. It stresses me out that I can’t get out of my bed to do anything, but the stress doesn’t help me. The stress makes me want to stay under the blanket and cry. Why can’t I just do it? If I had done it already I wouldn’t have to stress about it. It’s just some easy tasks, I just have to do it. But it feels like my bed is eating me alive, I can’t get out. And it’s driving me crazy. It should be easy. But why does it feel like everything’s just falling apart? My problems are just small and silly, I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Other people have it much worse, and here I am stressing out over some stupid homework and a messy room. I feel so stupid.
Suddenly Jody’s nose blocks my view, the surprise causes me to lose my thoughts. He jumps up on the bed and before he lies down, he steps over me, and then he walks back like he can’t decide where to lay down. He chooses to place himself under the blanket close to my stomach. I rub him on his back and take in his scent. He softly moves a bit until he lay completely still, breathing slowly. I know he’s about to fall asleep.
I close my eyes and just try to enjoy Jody’s presence, the warmth of his body against my stomach fills me with comfort, his fur against my skin calming me from the thoughts haunting me. I just feel… Nothing. And it’s a relief. I feel no anxiety, no stress, no sadness. Nothing. A deep empty feeling boils inside of me, reaching out into every limb of my body until my body feels heavy. And I can’t really think, my thoughts just blur into each other, I can’t get a grip on them.
Slowly I drift off to sleep, where people from my past haunt my unconsciousness.