All We Can Do Is Wait(37)

“Oh, Boli,” Skyler said, still trying to play the casual game. “He’s this kid from school I’m doing a dumb project with.”

“What project?” Danny asked, sitting forward on the couch now, setting his drink on the coffee table.

“For American history. It’s just this stupid thing. I don’t even know why he’s texting. It’s not due for, like, another week.”

“Is the project on ‘Hey, what’s up?’ Because that’s what the message says. It says, ‘Hey, what’s up?’ What part of American history is ‘Hey, what’s up?’”

He was standing now, the phone clutched tightly in one hand.

“Danny,” Skyler began, knowing he probably wouldn’t let this go, but hoping, wishing, that just this once he might. But she didn’t have time to finish saying that it was no big deal, that she really had no idea why Boli was texting her—Boli, a shy, nerdy, sweet boy whose name sounded so strange coming out of Danny’s mouth, in that dim, drafty apartment—because Danny hurled the phone at her. She ducked out of the way, a grim reflex, while jumping out of her chair. The phone bounced off the wall, somehow not shattering, and skidded across the floor.

“Danny!” Skyler screamed, moving to a corner of the kitchen, instead of, she chided herself in her head, for the door.

Danny was advancing on her, face red, eyes dark but unfocused. “Who the fuck is Boli, and why the fuck is he calling you at eleven o’clock on a Sunday fucking night?!”

“He didn’t call me, Danny!” Skyler yelped. “It was just a text!”

This was dumb. She knew it was dumb as she was saying it, before she even said it. Now was not the time to correct him. Sure enough, this seemed to make him angrier. He grabbed for her arm and caught a bit of her shirt as she wriggled out of his grasp and ran into the living room.

He chased after her, drunk and unbalanced. Skyler knew she was essentially trapped now, stuck in the interior of the apartment, Danny’s roommates not home, not that they were ever much help when one of Danny’s storms blew through.

“Danny, please,” she pled, as he lunged toward her, grabbing again for her arm. He got a better grip this time, and as she tried to twist away he pushed her back, directly into the long, thin mirror affixed to the wall.

The back of Skyler’s head hit the glass, and she heard a crunch. She couldn’t tell if it was the glass or her skull. She stood there dazed for a second, her vision blurry, and then snapped back into focus.

Danny looked shocked, maybe even a little scared. “Jesus, Skyler,” he said.

Skyler reached a hand back and touched her head. There was wetness, and she felt something, blood, dripping down her neck. “Danny . . .” she murmured, before a sudden surge of something—terror, will, whatever—had her bolting for the bathroom door, grabbing her phone up off the floor as she went.

Danny yelled, taking a few steps toward her, but she made it into the bathroom and locked the door behind her, sinking to the floor and letting herself cry while she dialed her sister’s number, her phone badly cracked but still working. She felt the back of her head again and pulled her hand away. It was bloody, but not totally red. She would probably be O.K. She would be O.K.

Outside the bathroom, Danny was stomping around, making noise. He hadn’t yet begun banging on the door, but Skyler knew he would. This wasn’t the first time she’d locked herself in the bathroom, but it was the first time it felt this serious. Like something was going to break or end here, tonight.

Her sister picked up on the third ring.

“Skyler? What’s going on? Are you O.K.?”

“Kate, Kate,” Skyler said, barely able to get the words out between sobs. “Can you come get me, please? Please?”

Hearing Skyler on the phone, Danny began banging on the door.

“Skyler, what’s that sound? What is going on?”

“Kate, can you please just come get me? Everything’s fine. I just need you to come get me, please.”

“I’m coming now,” Kate said, and Skyler could already hear her leaving, the familiar whine of the front door. “Stay on the line, O.K.?”

And so Skyler did, she and Kate barely speaking, Skyler mostly hearing the sounds of the car, the jangle of Kate’s keys as the wheels rumbled down Centre Street. Skyler waited.

Danny’s banging had slowed to intermittent thuds, and he was whimpering, saying, “Skyler, please. Baby, please open the door. Please don’t call the cops. Please, baby, please.” Skyler realized that’s what he was concerned about. Not her head, not the blood, not whether she was dead on the bathroom floor. He just didn’t want to spend the night in jail.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen. Then, a strange quiet, Danny either no longer at the door or having given up. Then, a banging, and another one, a clang.

Skyler heard Kate’s voice, suddenly in the apartment. She was yelling at Danny, who was yelling back at her to get out, that she needed to mind her own fucking business. Their voices grew louder as they moved toward the bathroom. Skyler heard her sister yelling, “Back the fuck up, Danny! Back the fuck up right now!” and then she was knocking on the door. “Skyler, Skyler, it’s me. Unlock the door. We’re leaving, now. Back up, Danny!”

When Skyler opened the door, her sister was standing there, in her winter coat, jeans, and flip-flops, clutching the tire iron from the trunk of her car like a club. Danny was pacing furiously on the other side of the room, but not advancing on them. Kate looked hard at her sister and said, “Go to the car now,” and Skyler obliged, noticing on her way out that it looked like Kate had broken the apartment door down, forcing her way in to get to her sister. Danny didn’t say anything as Skyler left, but as she and Kate got in the car, he leaned out the window and yelled, “Bitch!”