Questions

[Bree]

Bree had been tossing and turning for an hour, before switching her light back on and sitting up. Something had been bothering her for a few days, and she wasn’t sure how to take it. Earlier that week, her teacher at school had told the class that parents evening was coming up. Everyone else in the class had been chatting about their parents, but Bree had stayed quiet. Hikalyn would probably go... but explaining that to the other kids would be weird.

Clambering out of bed, the young girl reached for her backpack, plucking out the now well-read piece of green paper. Parents evening. Maybe she could just... no. It couldn’t just be ignored. Padding bare foot to the door of her room, Bree hesitated. No, it definitely couldn’t be ignored. Opening the door, dark eyes looked left and right before walking over to her sister’s room and knocking lightly on the door. Hopefully she wouldn’t be interrupting... after all, she should have been asleep.

[Hikalyn]

She blinked when someone knocked at her door, glanced reflexively over at the clock over an armful of laundry. It wasn't that late, but she still hadn't the foggiest notion who might be looking for her now. Shrugging, she dropped the load back in the hamper and went to the door.

She was surprised to find her sister on the other side of the door, looking like she'd just stumbled out of bed and clutching a worn piece of paper. "Hi, Bree," she said, smiling down at the girl. She stood away from the door so Bree could come in. "What is it?"

[Bree]

Walking through the door as Hikalyn answered, dark eyes looked up at her sister. Bree really hadn't got the first clue of what to say. "I... I got this from school the other day," she explained, handing over the piece of green paper. "It has to be back tomorrow... but..." here, the young girl went quiet, looking at her feet. She'd wondered if her teacher knew about her parents, then figured she probably wouldn't.

Leaning against a chair, Bree bit her bottom lip and looked up at Lyn, wondering what else there was that needed to be said. Everything, really, was in the letter. Everything that related to school, anyway.

[Hikalyn]

Hikalyn took the paper from Bree and scanned it, finished barely after her sister trailed off into silence. It wasn't long. Meet the teacher night at Bree's school, apparently. She couldn't help but notice that it was dated for several days earlier. It needed a signature.

She pulled a pen out of her pants pocket, but didn't move to sign the notice right away. Instead she looked at Bree. "But what?" she prompted, as gently as she could.

[Bree]

Bree hesitated as Kalyn questioned her trailing off at the end. Looking up, the young girl sighed slightly. "But how do I explain it?" she asked, simply. It was to the point. Blunt. "I mean, what do I tell my teacher and the other kids? It'd... it'd be... weird." The last word was spoken so quietly, but quickly after it, Bree shook her head.

"You don't have to go... I mean, Mom and Dad never went..." Bree half whispered, looking down at her feet as she shook her head once more, dark hair swaying from side to side.

Looking up again, she began to fidget with her hands. "What were they like when you were younger?" Bree questioned, unsure how Hikalyn would take the question. Maybe it wasn't the best subject to bring up... but surely it had to be asked at some point.

[Hikalyn]

She shrugged. "Your teachers probably wouldn't even ask. They know stuff happens, sometimes." Situations like theirs weren't as weird as Bree probably thought. "And you don't have to explain anything if you don't want to. But you don't have to keep it a secret, either." Bree was looking away from her now, her face half-hidden by her hair. "And of course I'll go." She placed the letter on the table, bent over it to sign it, paused in the middle of scrawling her signature when Bree asked the next question.

She finished with the letter, set the pen down, turned back to her sister. She was a bit surprised by the question; Bree hadn't asked anything about them since...the day she'd come, really. She wished she had a better answer.

"Probably not much different than they were for you," she said after a pause, as if a moment's thought could somehow dredge up some memory of them that was interesting, or different, or poignant. "They weren't really mean or anything, I just didn't see much of them. They went out a lot." She shrugged again, not sure what else to add. There wasn't much, really. "Mostly they just let me do my own thing, and they did theirs."