The Skylar Experiment : Dead Ending (second draft)

Chapter Thirty-Seven - Skylar

RILEY

LUNCH WAS PINS AND NEEDLES with both of us avoiding any additional conversation. Luc had that look where he tried to hide how furious he felt. He replied dryly to Devin's remarks and wouldn't pay much attention to his food, steering clear of me, most importantly. I didn't know what to think after what he told me. I still believed it was wrong to torture innocent people, but a certain part of me resonated when he mentioned morals.

Had Miles come around with his crossbow a second later, I would have shot the man I'd pinned to the ground. It disgusted me to remember that, and to this day, I couldn't look at myself in the mirror like before, wondering if there was something inherently evil in me. 

The thoughts plagued my mind until the end of classes and all the way to the cabin where I met with Tony for practice. Luc didn't even drive home after school and caught up with Ben, of course.

Slow progress was being made. Tony wouldn't say it outright, but I guessed that I was slower than permitted, slower than the average. But there was nothing I could do to help. I didn't know how to shift it back to normal. 

It was fairly late when I finished practicing. The sun had dipped in the horizon, leaving the sky dark and the air frigid. I parked my Ford in my house's driveway and cut off the engine. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I shuffled across the snow and pushed the key in the lock. My nose huffed out a breath in reaction to the gesture. I could have unlocked it with my abilities, but the habit was still deeply ingrained in my being.

The house was empty and silent; Dad was working a big shift again. My boots thumped off the tiles in the entry. I bent down to untie the laces, shoving the bag into a corner. When I skipped in the hall in my socks, on my way to the kitchen to fix myself dinner, I halted. My eyes flicked up towards the ceiling.

I'd been meaning to check out my birth certificate for a while, but never got to it because of the training and forgetting. Sometimes, I didn't have the opportunity with Dad being home. For some reason, I wanted to look into it alone, without him present or near. It just felt like something intimate and incredibly personal that I wouldn't even share with my father. Ever since he told me I was adopted, a toxic curiosity gnawed my insides, dreadful but unstoppable at once. I had a perfect chance right here. 

Dad stored important documents in his room, in drawer for folders and binders and old family photos. I never sneaked inside and never needed to, but I told myself I'd just fly by until I found what I was searching for. I gave up the prospect of dinner and climbed up the staircase. On the second floor, I walked to his door and pried it open.

I thanked my height or else I would have cracked my skull against the metal bar Dad had drilled into the wooden frame for pull-ups. Even past his forties, he was still a fitness maniac. I once tried it to see if I could be as strong as him, and barely managed one.

But back then, I didn't have the abilities altering my muscles. Tony had explained once that all children, before they began to transition, had equal strength and power to that of humans. There was absolutely no difference up until puberty when all types of non-human hormones started being released into the body. I never stopped to note a difference and see if that part of me was changing already.

It must be if I could jump out of my window and performed better in gym class as of late...

Quickly, I hopped on like a monkey, letting myself dangle for a second to test the bar. With a heavy breath, I willed my arms to curl up, hauling my weight along.