Chapter Eleven #2
Frank Ocean plays on a quiet hum, and I watch her smile when she brings the warm cup to her lips. She stops midway, gesturing for me to lift my cup.
“Try it,” she urges, waiting until I do and mirroring my movements until the sweet and slightly salty chocolate warmth coats my tongue. I don’t know how long we sit there without exchanging another word, but the playlist cuts off before I realize our cups are empty.
It’s quiet when we’re back on the road, and I replay Kiyomi’s words over and over. She won’t let me help. I’ve barely spoken to my mom for more than ten minutes over the past four years. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
“Thanks for the ride,” Scarlett says. I hadn’t realized we’d already made it to Iona House.
She grabs her bag from where it’s been sitting by her feet and starts to exit the car.
I rest my hand atop hers, making her turn back, her cherry-red hair falling loosely from her braid.
I notice the lines under her eyes and the cracks of red veins in them, before she smiles with all the energy she always has.
She doesn’t let me speak, only squeezes my hand before stepping out of the car. I watch her walk away until my phone pings. Like a reflex, I check for my sister’s text, but it’s only the group chat. And before I know it, I’m going to my voicemail, clicking on the one I never deleted.
“Hi, son, I missed you—”
Rap, rap, rap.
I drop my phone in the center console, startled by the knock on my driver’s-side window. Scarlett stares up at me from where she stands on the pavement. I roll down the window.
“Do you wanna come inside?”
I blink at her.
“Not me—I mean in—like, in my dorm?” She squeezes her eyes shut and tries again. “Sierra’s at her parents’ place so it’s just me. You know what? You probably want to go home—”
“Okay.”
Her brown eyes brighten. “Yeah?”
I’m out of the car and in her dorm before I can even think twice.
The dorm is small. They don’t have a kitchen, not even like the tiny one in Summer’s dorm.
Here they’ve got a toaster, a coffeepot, and a kettle.
There’s a mini fridge in one corner and a small couch on the other wall.
Sierra’s room is on the right side of the front door, judging by the huge gym bag laying in front of it.
“This is where the magic happens,” Scarlett says. “By that, I mean studying.”
I move farther into her room, taking my time checking out her things. Though it’s mostly just notes stuck to her walls as reminders. But I notice the tiny Christmas tree already set up on her dresser.
“Isn’t a bit early?” I point at the tree.
She scoffs. “Christmas starts in September, everyone knows that. It’s like the cardinal rule in my family.”
She ushers me over to the bed, then offers me every snack in her drawer.
“What’s that?” I ask, staring at the show paused on her laptop when she opens it.
“Oh, it’s a reality show. It’s kind of trashy and messy as hell. I don’t think you—”
“Getaway Island? I watched all of the last two seasons. I totally forgot that another one came out.”
Her mouth parts. “You did?”
“Yeah, the guys love it. We even hosted watch parties every week in sophomore year.”
“Wait, that was you? I went to almost all of those.”
I laugh. “Yup. There were so many people we got in huge shit from our captain when he found out that’s what we were doing.”
“Do you want to watch?”
“Sure.”
I stare at the plain white bed. “You sleep with one pillow?”
“Yes. Is that bad?”
“Kind of creepy.”
“What? How? I’m one person, hence the one pillow. More is just pompous.”
I shake my head but move to sit by her, reclining against the headboard, watching her excitedly pull up the most recent episode.
Scarlett is so animated while she watches, it’s kind of amusing. I thought I was loud when watching TV, but she’s got me beat.
“What a creep! He’s totally gaslighting her.”
And: “He just coupled up with the brunette. There is no way she’s going to be okay with this.”
The two cheaters on-screen start making out and Scarlett and I boo them. I don’t know when it happened, but she’s got her feet tucked close, her arms wrapped around her legs, as we lean into each other.
My arm rests behind her, and every time she moves, her soft hair brushes against my biceps. All I can smell is her citrusy scent.
As I’m sitting there, just breathing her in, I feel the exhaustion weigh on me. I don’t know when I drift off, but the next time I open my eyes, it’s to Scarlett staring at me, barely an inch away.
She jerks, flying away from me and to the opposite side of the bed. “Sorry! I was deciding whether I should wake you. Your neck was at an awkward angle.”
I stifle a yawn. “I should head out.”
“Or…you could just sleep here? Today was rough, and I’m not sure I trust you to drive home.”
“I’ll be fi—” I yawn again. “Fine.”
She raises a brow as if she’s won. “Right. Well, I’m a good host so obviously you can sleep on my bed.”
“I’m not taking your bed.”
“Making you sleep on the floor or our crappy couch would make me a terrible host. We can sleep together; it’s not a big deal.”
“Scarlett.”
“What?”
“The floor is fine. I’ve crammed myself on the foot of a bed at away games. I’ve slept with feet in my face more than once. So a floor—your floor—doesn’t even come close.”
She obliges, and when we’re getting the floor ready, she’s giving me all her thickest blankets and refuses to let me argue. She shows me the bathroom a few doors down and tells me about the communal showers. I don’t dare use those.
Once the lights are off, I’m nearly drifting to sleep when she clears her throat. I open one eye to find her watching me over the edge of the bed. “Are you asleep?”
“No.”
“Are you annoyed at your sister for not telling you about your mom?” she asks.
I let out a sigh. “I was, but I get it. She’s dealt with her on her own all these years and thinking of me isn’t her priority. I’d rather she use that time to take care of herself than worry about telling me.”
She listens intently, and by now my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, though she didn’t close the blinds, so the streetlamps cast a soft glow into the room.
“Does she have help?”
“The nurse, I guess. Joban, Kiyomi’s husband, is usually there for whatever she needs. I just don’t think she tells him when she needs it. She doesn’t tell anybody.”
“Not even you.”
“Sometimes I think these secrets she keeps from me are her way of fulfilling her promise to my dad. She thinks I don’t remember, but a week after his funeral, she let it slip that he told her to protect me. I love my dad, but I hate that he put that pressure on her.”
“So she’s trying to be that for you. A protector? Shielding you from all the bad?”
“She thinks that’s what she’s doing. I want to snap her out of that.”
I can’t quite place it, but being here, in this room, with Scarlett, makes me feel the same way I do when I get all the guys together and it’s a full house. Like everything else could fall away, and this is all that’s worth it. The present moment.
“But you didn’t today because you didn’t want to stress her out.”
“Yeah, I guess not.” Ki’s sigh alone told me more than her words ever could. I miss my sister. I miss her smile, her laugh, the way she used to dream. I feel responsible for taking that away from her.
My parents gave everything to send me to Connecticut, and I didn’t think about Kiyomi for even a second. Sometimes, I think she resents me for it, but that alone makes her resent herself. It’s a destructive cycle, and she’s been stuck in it for four years.
“Don’t you get tired?” Scarlett asks, breaking through my thoughts. “Of being so happy all the time.”
I stare at her. “What else is there to be?”
“Annoyed, sad, irritated, fucking pissed off. There’s so much to feel, yet I’ve only seen you smiling through all of it.”
I feign offence. “You don’t like my smile?”
She rolls her eyes. “That look you get in your eyes when someone says they have to leave early, or when you’re on the phone with your sister.
I know life is great when you’re happy and positive, but it’s also great when you release all that other shit.
It’s pretty fucking great to scream or cry sometimes. ”
She catches me smiling again and throws up her hands. “Fine. I’m wrong and clearly sent by the world’s evils to corrupt your happy-go-lucky spirit.” She shakes her head, stopping before settling back in her bed. “For what it’s worth, I like you happy, Kian, but I’d like you sad too.”
Those words don’t let me fall asleep for a long, long time.