“Sure.”
“Now.”
“Oh, you mean right now?”
“It’s almost dinner time. You’d have had to call her down soon, anyway.”
“Me?” I ask, as my mother gazes worriedly at me.
“Niall…”
“Okay, I know. Got it.” I place my beer on the counter and take a deep breath. “I’m going.” I head towards the stairs and climb the steps, before reaching her room and knocking at the door. I wait a few seconds, but don’t hear anything from inside. She’ll definitely have that music blaring into her ears – or maybe she’s simply ignoring me. Either way, I have to do something: so I open the door and stick my head inside.
Skylar is sitting on the window ledge, gazing outside with those damn earphones in her ears, filling the room with that tinny shit she listens to every day.
I gather my courage and approach her, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. She jumps, turning towards me and yanking out the earphones.
“Dinner’s ready,” I tell her, sinking onto the bed.
She nods, fixing her eyes back out the window; but she doesn’t put her earphones back in. At least that’s something.
“I was just talking to your grandparents, downstairs,” I begin; no reaction. “Granddad says that you can do whatever you want with this room.”
She turns to face me with an undecipherable expression. I plough on – at worst, she’ll tell me to fuck off, something I’ve recently and quickly grown used to.
“It used to be your Aunt Rian’s bedroom,” I say, looking around, “and it’s definitely not your style.”
“What would you know about my style?” she asks, one eyebrow raised.
She’s challenging me: and I have no means of defending myself.
“Oh, please. Have you seen this place?” I say, attempting indifference.
She glances at the walls, before letting her gaze land on me again.
“What can I do with it, exactly?”
“Anything you want.”
She looks at me, unconvinced.
“You can repaint the walls, change the furniture, hang up whatever you like. It’s your room.”
“Does that mean we’re staying here?”
“It’s yours for as long as we’re here, and you can decorate it however you want.”
“Can I paint the walls black?”
“Black?”
She nods.
“Maybe more of a dark blue?”
She glares at me, and I sigh. “You can do whatever you want.”
“Okay.”
