The City | GirlxGirl

twenty eight ➳

Yellow. The sign that "Webster's Cafe" was painted on. And the colour associated with happiness. Just before Skylar reached the front door of the cafe, she tugged on the yellow hair band that was cutting into the skin on her wrist.

There was no denying that she was much happier working at the cafe than at the bar. The bar was grimy, filled with late nights and drunk men who automatically thought they had a chance with her because she is a woman. But the cafe encompassed an energy that was not only captivating, but welcoming. Skylar felt like she belonged at the cafe, despite it being such a bright place, and her feeling so lost in the shadows. And when she stood behind the counter, offering smiles and accepting them in return, she didn't feel so dark. For the first time in a long time, she felt herself stand out. She wasn't this small figure that hid in the corner. Instead, her skin shone with light, her lungs buzzed with electricity. She felt like a light bulb: charged, and ready to shine.

Not only was the cafe treating her well, her relationship with Blair was improving. Skylar had hosted her for dinner the previous night, and she prided herself on feeling little attraction towards her. Perhaps, she thought, most of her feelings for Blair were mental-maybe she hadn't liked Blair as much as she originally thought, or as much as she used to. Maybe it was her mind telling her to hold tight, to reach for something-anything-that would keep her close to Logan.

But the thing was, there was nothing she could cling onto that would keep her close to someone who was already gone. She may have been a little bit late in realizing this, but as Blair always says, it's better late than never. Moving on and away from Logan was not selfish. After four years of grief, and trying her best to ensure not to hurt Logan, even though Logan was about six feet deep in the ground, trying to move her life in the direction away from Logan was not a selfish move.

As Skylar walked towards Webster's, she laughed at herself. She had been through this so much in the past four years. It seemed like a constant battle against herself: to move on, or to not move on? Up until now, the latter had always won. Probably because in that battle, Skylar positioned the sides as: Skylar versus Logan. And of course, Logan would always win.

But now, Logan was not here to defend her side. She was not able to argue, to debate, nor to physically fight in the war. Skylar's side was the only side fit to win. It may have taken four years to end the battle, but, "It's better late than never, Skylar."

"I know." Skylar peered down the street, squinting against the sun. Blair liked to call her during her break at the bank, and Skylar didn't mind. She didn't have a boyfriend to talk to, and she seemed to be distancing herself from Jude. Skylar liked being the centre of Blair's attention once again-but this time, it was completely platonic.

And speaking of Jude. Skylar and Blair didn't talk about her. Skylar no longer received updates on her injuries, and now that two weeks had passed since the accident, she assumed everything had or was recovering just fine. She didn't want to hear about the girl anymore, and Blair didn't seem to want to talk about her with Skylar. Still, Skylar knew Blair was working towards forgiveness, and if Blair was reaching for something, she would get there eventually. So Blair and Jude may work it out, but Skylar didn't need to hear about it.

Skylar was aware of her stubbornness, her habit of holding grudges, and her unwillingness to move forwards. She had been in the same position as she was with Logan as she had been with both of her parents. Her father passed first, and her mother followed shortly after. For about a year afterwards, she surrounded herself in their memory. She smoked cigarettes. She wore the Maple Leafs baseball cap her father had given her for her tenth birthday. She made a wish at 11:11, just like her mother had done. These things became a routine that she did every day, and every day when she did them, she felt a little lighter. Like doing the things that reminded her of her parents kept their spirit strong. She wore them like a sweatshirt.