Head to Lydia's House

I walked the few blocks from my house to Lydia’s. As I took each step I remembered each of my step’s in the very near future would likely be sans shoes and the uneven pavement and gravel would likely be uncomfortable or even painful. I tried to hold back any doubts I was having. I knew how easy it would be to talk myself out of this; I had options but Lydia didn’t. Acknowledging the existence of options would only make this harder for me to support Lydia and this wasn’t about me.

I walked up these steps for what seemed like the millionth time. Her mom was always nice to me and considered me a good influence but I hadn’t talked to her since Lydia got caught blowing Mike, and wasn’t sure how she might react. All I knew was that Lydia was in here, already naked and that tomorrow she was expected to go to school like that. If I can’t talk Lydia’s mom out of it, I’m going to too.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

I stood there waiting for answer for what seemed like a fairly long time. I did a quick double check to make sure I wasn’t mistaken that their car was there. Eventually the door cracked what seemed like a micrometer and I saw a crying red eye behind it.

“It’s not a good time, Jill.” Said Lydia.

She was taking this very hard.

“I know you’re upset, Lydia, but I need to talk to your mom.”

She sobbed.

“She’s not gonna listen.”

I didn’t want to tell her what I was planning. It would probably get me through the door, but I didn’t really wanna say it unless her mom didn’t listen.

“Lydia, just step back from the door and away from where anyone can see you and let me in.”

So much emotion is expressed through the eyes, or in this case eye. I could see so much pain.

“Please… I don’t want you to see me like this…”

“Then run upstairs, leave this door cracked and when I hear your bedroom door close, I’ll come in. I want to help. I want to try to make her understand what she’s asking of you and try to convince her she’s wrong.”

She paused. I saw a **** admiration in her eye. She was forming a bit of hope if only for a moment. She knew if her mom would listen to anyone it was me. Her mom thought I was perfect and while Lydia probably felt the same, her mom used my perceived goodness as a comparison to beat Lydia over the head with.

“My mom **** me to come to the door. She’ll be mad if I don’t act like a good host.”

We were making progress, just a little push and I should be inside.

“Hopefully by the end of the conversation she won’t be mad anymore. Just go wait in your room, hun. Let me try.”

I heard her step away from the door and then a minute later her door shut.

I held my breath for a moment opened the door and stepped in. I walked in and went to the kitchen where I found her mom pouring herself a glass of wine.