Opening Up

"Where are we going,"Hope whines from the backseat. Sky's driving us to her house and I'm sitting in the back seat with Hope's head on my lap and her body spread across the seats.

"We're going to my house. This is the third time you've asked me where we are going. You sure we shouldn't go to the hospital to check if you hit your head hard on something," Sky asks Hope.

"She didn't hit her head. She's just drunk out of her mind," I tell Sky. She parks in front of her house.

"Lets just get her inside."

"Your parents won't mind," I ask Sky. There's another car in the driveway, so there must be someone else here. She doesn't seem bothered and she shrugs her shoulders.

"Nope. They're pretty cool. My dad's home, but he's probably busy testing out new recipes. My mom's at the bakery filling in for the both of them." Sky helps me lift Hope out of the car. She hits her head on the hood of the car and lets out a yelp of pain.

"Maybe that bump to the head will knock some sense into her," Sky whispers to me.

"Your parents own a bakery," I ask in surprise as we walk to the door. She nods her head. When we get to the door, she pauses.

"By the way, my dad is deaf, so I'll do translations. Don't do that weird thing when people talk louder as if a deaf person will hear them better that way. He can read lips perfectly fine," Sky fills me in quickly.

"Good to know." She opens the door to a one story family home. The outside of the house is a mix of gray and white bricks and the windows and doors are painted dark green. The porch is decorated with little lanterns.

The inside of the house complements the outside. The colors aren't too bright, but their subtle. It's like a breath of fresh air, but I forget I'm carrying the drunken, highschool girl and I catch a whiff of liquor, scrunching my nose.

The house smells like a bakery. A warm, yeast aroma floats around. Sky leads us to what I believe is the kitchen because the smell gets stronger.

I see a man at this built in brick oven. Sky's father is a little shorter and older than I thought he'd be. He looks like he's in his 60s and I can see gray hairs scattered in his black hair.

When he turns around, his eyes bulge at seeing three teenage girls in his kitchen, one being passed out.

"Hey, dad! Sorry about barging in without contacting you first. It was an emergency," Sky says out loud as she does sign language. I'm guessing she's speaking out loud for my benefit.

"What happened to Hope and who's this," he asks. His voice is a low, raspy sound and you can't understand it much, but he makes up for it in sign language. I have to listen carefully to know what he's saying.

"Hope had a little too much to drink if you know what I mean. Dad, this is my friend, Spencer, that I've told you so much about. Spencer, this is my dad."

The middle aged man with blue eyes like Sky, wipes his hands off and comes to greet me.

"Nice to meet you," I'm met with the same raspy voice and we shake hands. His hands are a little rough from all the bakery work.

"Nice to meet you too. What should I call you," I ask him.

"You can call me Papa Joe," he says with a wrinkled smile.

Sky was right when she said her parents were cool. He didn't even seem angry at the fact that he had a daughter skipping school or a drunk teen in his home.

He seems like a nice man and her mom is probably the same.

"I have something that can help with her hangover after she wakes up," he says, and pinches his daughter's cheek, making her giggle.

"Alright, old man. We're going to my room." Sky leads us down the hall as I practically drag Hope. Sky's room is filled with twinkling lights and couldn't be more trendy.

"Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself at home." Sky sits on one of her bean bag chairs and I flop Hope down on her bed.

"How come I've never been here? Your house is probably the most welcoming house I've ever been in." I look around Sky's room and at her decor and family photos.

"You should see Parker's house. His family is very energetic, especially his little sister. I don't know. I just usually come over to your house."

"You just seem so secretive. I didn't know your family owned a bakery or that your father is deaf.... You didn't tell me you're in a new relationship." I smoothly enter the last part into the conversation, waiting for her reaction.

"Jaime told you," she asks, but she already knows the answer. I nod my head.

"What's with all the secrecy," I ask her. She gets up from her bean bag chair and hops onto the bed next to me.

"Spence, I've never had a long relationship before. You want to know why?" I frown at her expression. Her eyes are glossy, but she fights her tears. I wait for her to speak.

"I didn't have a good best friend and everytime I told her something I was happy about or I told her about a boy I liked, she made sure to find a way to rip it away from me."

I'm about to speak, but she tells me to wait till she's done.

"I come from a very loving family and it caused me to become this sweet, caring, and easily forgiving person, but it also allowed people to take advantage of me. Sometimes I curse the way I was raised, but I remind myself that I wouldn't want anyone else as parents."

She wipes the little tears that fall out of her eyes.

"There were so many times that I liked a guy and the guy asked Lily out instead or Lily told me that she liked them, so I couldn't like them. She hurt me a lot and I still forgave her every time she gave me a weak apology. That's why I'm happy I have you as a friend and you broke the toxic cycle I allowed myself to fall into."

"So why haven't you talked about this to me," I ask her softly.

"I'm just so afraid that if I allow myself to trust someone fully as I did her, it will end up being the same. I know you wouldn't do what she did to me, but my soul won't allow me. You have to give me some time to open up to you. I promise I want to. It's just hard."

I pull my friend into a hug.

"That's okay. Whatever works best for you."

We hear a choking sound come from the other side of the bed and when we turn, Hope is throwing up on Sky's bedroom floor.

Gross.