Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

to be a secret. She promised him that it would be, but she never knew it would be a regular thing.
The secret stays just as it was—a dark, sickening, and painful secret that would always be a secret. Johnny will do whatever he has to do to keep her from talking, and she knows not to mess with someone like him. She has both Leah and herself to worry about. She has to be brave at all odds, whatever the cost.
Skye’s cell buzzed and she groaned, hobbling over to get it from her bag. She dropped back onto the bed and crawled to the top the moment she had the phone. She blinked her eyes a few times and wiped any remaining tears away. She was sad but she couldn’t cry anymore; she only felt numb and hollow. She wanted to sleep and everything around her was falling away. She vaguely could read the text that Bryan had sent her.
Hey. Babe, I want to talk to you about something. Meet me at Omar’s Coffee Shop tomorrow at noon. I really need to talk to you. Be there, Skye. Night.

She sighed and tossed her phone on the end of her bed. She didn’t want to see him again so soon, she had enough of him already. She would have to go though, staying home wouldn’t be a good choice
She lay down, staring at the shadowed white ceiling and thinking over the night’s events. She felt a pang of disgust and abuse tear at her heart but she tried to ignore it. The pang wasn’t only a result of the night, but it was also the thought of what could be yet to come. Things can’t get any worse; all of this has to be the worst of it.

She tried to convince herself, but there was no telling in what would truly be.
One reason that birthdays are just another day: they never end well.


The house around Skye was quiet; the only sound she could hear was the ticking of the clock on her bedroom wall. The air in the room was warm and humid. Even with the ceiling fan on full blast above her she still felt the oppressive heat. Moments passed, her mind drifting with pictures of the short time she’d spent with Jules. Every time he appeared in her mind she felt the warmest tingly sensation, one so strong it was hard to ignore.
Getting him out of her mind was harder than it ever had been with Bryan. She wishes she could get him out of her mind so that she wouldn’t feel guilty, but it just isn’t that easy.
Noon was just around the corner and she knew that she had to get going so that she could meet up with Bryan. Grabbing her bag, she headed for the front door. She sneaked past Leah and Johnny’s room and glided down the stairs, her footsteps quiet and soft. She was trying to avoid Johnny, she knew that he was somewhere in the house and she didn’t want to face him.
Before she made it out the door something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was a beer bottle. She gasped and stopped herself in her tracks. “Not this again, Johnny.” She murmured, sighing and looking both ways before grabbing the bottle off of the kitchen counter and stuffing it into her bag. Taking it would be helping Johnny, and he would need that help.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Johnny’s voice spoke gruffly behind her.
She jumped out of her skin and closed her eyes so that she could think straight. It was hard for her to come up with a reply, her voice wouldn’t cooperate. “I—I thought it would be better if I got this out of your hands. Mom hates it, if she finds out it would break her heart.” She croaked, rummaging through her bag without turning around. She wanted to get it out so that Johnny wouldn’t hurt her.
He wasn’t kind enough to completely forget about it though. His hands crept up her shoulders and he breathed down her neck, darkly whispering, “That’s why we have our own agreement; you’re not trying to break out of it, are you?” His voice sent chills zipping along her spine, threatening her thumping heartbeat.
She nervously turned around and sucked in her breath. He only had a towel wrapped around his hips, exposing just how much strength he could release. “No, I just thought—”
Johnny stepped closer and plucked the bottle out of her hands. “You thought wrong, it’s not for me. It’s for a friend from work.”
She tried to believe his words but she was having a hard time with it. He doesn’t work all that much, and when he does, it never requires beer. “I’m sorry,” she whispered in fear.
“You should be,” with his free hand he tucked her loose strands of hair behind her ears, and caressed her cheek, “why all the makeup? Where are you headed, Princess?” He was so close that she was backed up against the counter.
Her words got caught up in her throat as she thought about Bryan. Her head was throbbing and her body tensed up, she hated him being so close to her. “Out,” She swallowed hard and fumbled around with her purse, “with Bryan.”
Johnny’s lips twisted into a smirk as he dropped his free hand and tugged up on his towel. “Have a good time, Princess.”
She wanted to yell at him for calling her Princess again, but she didn’t. Instead she said, “Thanks,” and ducked out the door, carefully enough to make sure that he didn’t touch her again. She hurried down the streets towards Omar’s as quickly as possible. She needed to be as far away from Johnny as possible. He was getting too close to her again.

Skye walked through the door to Omar’s, the bell above chiming to signal another customer. She sighed as the fresh smell of coffee and cool air-conditioning enveloped her. A tall girl with long red hair smiled as she looked up and spotted Skye standing in the doorway. “Hello, how are you today, Miss?” She said.
Skye faintly put on a fake smile and whispered a quick hello

and good

. Her eyes glazed over the large coffee shop, taking in the fact that Bryan wasn’t there yet. He always seemed to be late for their dates. She started walking to the back of the coffee shop, the part of the shop that was on a raised black and white checkered platform. The walls were a warm red and the floor was marble. In the back there were restrooms in the cut off corner. The shop was more than any typical coffee shop.
She dropped herself into a chair at a table with two seats. For the most part, all of the tables and booths were small. A soft hum of classical music was playing over the speakers and, in some matter, it calmed her. She loved going to Omar’s, it always calmed her nerves, whatever the problems would be in her life. With her love for coffee she had even more motivation to hang out at Omar’s. She propped her elbows on the table and sighed, dropping her chin on top of her hands.
There was a scuff of footsteps and a familiar voice chimed into her ears, “Can I get you something, Miss?” The voice startled her in a way that it wasn’t only familiar but it was beautiful and harmonic. She couldn’t place it until the boy stepped around to the side of the table and she tipped her gaze up at him. Her mouth threatened to drop but she kept it in check, swallowing her own words. Her eyes were lost in the boys’ eyes and every word she thought about disappeared when she tried to speak. It was none other than Jules, the boy she knew she had to avoid.
“Stool girl?” Jules asked in surprise, his face lighting up at the sight of her. “Wow. Small town, huh?”
She didn’t want to speak to him, she knew that she shouldn’t break her promise already, but she couldn’t be rude either. “What are you doing here?” She asked loudly.
“Whoa, did I say something wrong?” He chuckled as if she had said something funny.
She frowned at him and bit her lip. I shouldn’t be talking to him, I shouldn’t be talking to him.

She scolded herself, labeling herself guilty about not following with her promise. “Isn’t there something against being too friendly with the costumers in the employee handbook?” She raised an eyebrow, trying to challenge him. She knew that what she said didn’t make the most sense, but it would have to do.
He laughed at her and shook his head slowly. “Are you saying that I was being too friendly? Maybe you’re thinking about last night than. I was hoping that you would remember last night.” He winked and planted his hands on the table, causing her to flinch back.
She swallowed down the lump in her throat and all of the sudden her heart started drumming against her chest. She was nervous about him being close to her. If he looked at her close enough, there would be the possibility that he could notice her swollen cheek. “I wasn’t thinking about last night.” She hissed, crossing her arms.
He raised an eyebrow and made a sound resembling laughter under his breath. “Oh, no Stool girl, you were. Come on, just admit it, you were thinking about last night. About me,” he leaned in a little closer to her, a smirk hinting on his lips.
She bit her tongue to keep herself from admitting it and faked a smile. “Listen,” said Skye, closing in the space between them, “I am not going to admit to something that I have not done. You on the other hand, may have been thinking about last night. I was not and have not, so I suggest that you get over yourself.” She said with fake satisfaction. She wasn’t pleased with herself—it all was just another act.
Jules looked a little taken aback for a moment but it quickly passed and he grinned at her. “If that’s what you’d like then I will try, but I can’t give you any guarantees.” He stood straight up again and winked. Oh how she wished that he would stop doing that.
“I’ll take what I can get.” She murmured, sighing on the inside. Jules looked even better in the normal light, she realized, almost as if he was a perfect masterpiece. He wore a loose fitting white collared shirt and dark jeans with a burgundy apron hanging loosely over the shirt. “How long have you been working here?” She asked him, suddenly very curious. She hadn’t even seen him before last night at Buxton’s and she wondered how long he has been in the area.
He seemed to stare right through her as he answered the question, almost as if he wasn’t used to answering that sort of question. “My dad moved us here a few days ago, his job called for a new location over here and he couldn’t refuse. He