9. Scarlet
9
SCARLET
“ D o you want this, or should I take it?”
Tessa’s question barely registers in my mind. I turn away from the half-empty closet to find her standing in my bedroom doorway.
“What did you say?”
She frowns before holding up the small potted succulent that lived on the living room windowsill these past two semesters.
“Do you want this, or should I take it?”
The irony. I bought that little succulent on a whim one day, not long after we moved in. I identify with it. Succulents manage to find a way to survive even in the absence of light and water.
No one has denied me either of those things since I arrived here, but other things just as fundamental to my thriving have been missing for far too long.
So fundamental, so deeply missed, that I went ahead and made a mistake a few nights ago. I still blush with shame whenever I think about it, which means I’ve been blushing for three days straight.
“Why don’t you take it?” I offer, trying to inject a little sunshine into my voice. She’s already way too aware of my dark, brooding mood. No sense in giving her more reason to worry about me.
“You’re the one who’s kept it alive all year. I didn’t even know I was over watering it until you told me I was,” Tessa announces.
I give her a tiny smirk. “True, you’ll probably end up drowning it if I leave it up to you.”
Tessa shakes her head in disbelief. “Nobody ever said I had a green thumb. I figured succulents were supposed to be easy, right?”
With the clock ticking, I turn back to the task at hand: packing up my closet, which I left for last. We worked on the shared spaces together, and almost everything is currently in a box or a bag, ready to be carted off. A year’s worth of memories. Only the things we’ll need between now and tomorrow morning will be left out—our laptops, toiletries, that sort of thing.
There’s a little more than twelve hours until the car picks me up, which means I need to pull on my big girl panties and do what I’ve been putting off all this time. I wasn’t completely sure until the party, even though the idea has been floating around in my head for weeks.
Every passing minute adds another layer to my anxiety. I’m going to have to tell her soon. She deserves to know.
Ugh, and there she is, humming as she packs up the last of her personal items, blissfully unaware that this is the last day we’ll be college roommates.
It’s going to upset her. She’s going to want answers.
I can’t tell her everything—that much hasn’t changed. I have to tap dance around the truth, brushing gently against it without stirring up too many questions.
My closet forgotten, I sink to the bed, lowering my head and holding it in my hands. Blushing isn’t the only thing I’ve done pretty constantly since the party. I’ve also done more than my fair share of crying.
Sometimes, out of nowhere, my eyes will start leaking before I register the presence of tears welling up. It’s gotten bad enough that I’ve had a mild headache for days. Dehydration, maybe?
Or the pain of so much turmoil building in my skull.
Tessa probably thinks it’s hormonal, and I’ll let her continue to believe that. It’s better than the alternative, the confession I’d have to make out loud. She has no idea what happened in that corner—I don’t think she even knew I wasn’t with her. It’s not her fault. There were too many people pressing in on all sides.
The slightest memory gets my heart racing again. There were so many people, and nobody was paying much attention to who they slammed into or what was happening outside their tight little bubble.
That’s what made it possible for a guy in a wolf mask to finger me right there in the open.
If shame could crush a heart, mine would be nothing more than a bloody pulp by now. There’s a literal pain in my chest when I recall my actions. It’s like I wasn’t even myself, forgetting everything I knew in favor of a quick thrill. Sure, nothing could have seemed more necessary in the moment when my whole body was on fire, and I was painfully wet and desperate to be touched.
To be wanted.
And he wanted me. I felt it—his erection grinding against my lower belly. His sharp, harsh breathing behind that mask. It made him seem even more like an animal, now that I think about it, the way the mask distorted the sound.
It was easy to get caught up in the moment.
Especially when I was so sure it was Ren behind the mask. Ren, whose breath rasped in my ear, whose body pinned me to the wall, whose finger penetrated me so skillfully. I would’ve bet my life on it.
The instant he backed away, reality came crashing down, and I’ve been trapped under the rubble ever since. Ren wouldn’t have left me like that, without even a word. Not my Ren .
What was I thinking? I was trying to convince myself it was him. And of course, it wasn’t. Ren was no more present with me at that party than he’s been all year. I’ve been lost in the fantasy of him lurking around the periphery of my life. Telling myself he was moving things in the apartment when I’m sure it was Tessa, and I just wasn’t aware of it.
I mean, right? Obviously. I need to be realistic. I’ve spent far too long only half present in my life, the rest of the time spent lost in some fantasy land. No wonder I’ve been so unhappy and dissatisfied. I’m always waiting for the big reveal, the moment when my suspicions of Ren’s presence are confirmed.
When my painful, embarrassing need to be loved by him is fulfilled.
It’s never going to happen. I realized that, and I allowed some random dude to finger me, to touch me.
Who wouldn’t cry?
So get off your ass and do what you’ve been avoiding .
Enough turning my back on what I know I need to do. Isn’t it always better to tear the Band-Aid off all at once, anyway? I force myself to stand and march out of the bedroom even though my legs are trembling. I’d rather scrub the toilet with my toothbrush than drop the bomb I’m holding. But here goes nothing.
“Hey,” I say, entering the living room.
It looks so sad and empty now, the walls bare, boxes lined up along the wall beside the front door. Strange how my voice sounds different with fewer items scattered around to absorb it.
“Oh, good, I need your help.” She’s scratching her head, staring down at an open cardboard box. “How do you do the flap thingy? You know, where you put them just so, and it doesn’t open back up? We’re out of tape.”
“You’re hopeless,” I tease, showing her the correct order to close the flaps, tucking the fourth flap under the first one I folded over so all four stay in place.
“I should have taken a video.” She sighs, shrugging. “But thanks.”
With as good a segue as any, I say, “So listen. There’s something I want to talk to you about.” I can barely get it out; every word is like pulling teeth.
“Finally.”
Not the reaction I was expecting. Nor was I expecting her to be standing with her hands on her hips, one of which is popped out to the side. Her body language speaks volumes. Apparently, she has something she’s been keeping in as well.
“I’ve been waiting for you to finally come around and fess up,” she explains. “It’s obvious something is on your mind.”
“It’s not easy to talk about,” I murmur, nudging the box with my toe, unable to look her in the eye.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right? We’re cousins. You don’t have to be afraid to speak your mind. I don’t care what our parents think, and I’m not a narc. If it’s a secret you need me to keep, I can keep it.”
She has no idea the secrets that I’m keeping.
I incline my head in the direction of the couch. “Let’s sit and talk.”
She doesn’t follow me, not moving a muscle except to turn in my direction and follow my progress. “I don’t like this. I’ve got a bad feeling.” Her lips turn into a frown.
“I’m not dying or anything.” Though I have felt that way. “But it’s something you’re probably not going to like.”
Her expression becomes pained. “Have you secretly hated living with me all this time?”
“God, no!” Though I’m glad she got that idea out of the way. If she was already worrying about it, her brain would probably go straight there once I get this weight off my chest.
She sinks to the couch with a sigh. “Okay, so long as it’s not that. Sometimes when people are roommates, things change between them. I didn’t want that to be the issue for us.”
I want to tell her if things change, it’ll be because of me and not her, but I don’t. That’ll open another can of worms I’m not ready to deal with.
“No, that’s not even close to what this is about. I’ve loved being your roommate. Honestly...” I take a breath, gathering myself for what I’m about to say. “You’re probably the only
thing I’ve really liked about the past year.” “What?”
“I mean, I’m sure it’s been easy to tell how unhappy I’ve been. I know you’ve seen it.” I shrug my shoulders. “I… I just don’t feel like I belong here.”
It’s not a lie. I haven’t felt like I’ve belonged for a while.
“To be fair, though, you haven’t given yourself much of a chance. I’ve practically had to drag you out of the apartment kicking and screaming to do anything besides go to class. We went to, what, five or six parties together?” She counts them out on her fingers. “It couldn’t have been because of the guards either. You sneak past them easily when you feel like it.”
“I know, and I’m sorry if you felt like you had to babysit me or whatever you want to call it. You deserve to have fun without worrying about me. But it’s not just social stuff. It’s everything. I don’t like the classes. I don’t like the distance from home. I don’t like any of it, and I don’t think MIT is for me in general.”
Whew. I can feel the beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I didn’t mean for it to pour out of me all at once, but I’m glad it did. The words hang in the air, louder and clearer than they might have sounded when the apartment was fully furnished.
Her face falls once she catches up and puts everything together. “You’re not coming back, are you?”
There it is. The sadness in her voice makes me want to cry. I can already feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I blink them back. If I don’t stop, I’m going to dry up like a dead leaf.
My voice cracks. “No. I’m not coming back.”
“Do your parents know?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. I’ll tell them once I’m home, and everything is settled. I only decided a day or two ago that it is definite, though I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
She chews her lip, eyes watering and her chin quivering. I feel like a slug. I should have told her before this, dammit. Though that would’ve left awkwardness between us, which I guess I was trying to avoid. Not to mention all the questions.
I’m sure she has some now—I didn’t want to give her time to think up more of them. It would be exhausting trying to keep track of all the lies I would have to tell, and the last thing I want to do is add more heaps of shit onto the heap of shit I just dished out.
“So what are you going to do? Do you have any plans yet?”
“I’m not sure.”
When my eyes dart away, she grunts. “Are you going to go to work with your brother instead?”
For a moment, I forgot the lie we told her about that. Years ago, when Tessa figured out Corium’s website was fake, we told her Corium was a made-up college to get our parents off Quinton’s back. We told her he and Ren were starting their own business. I guess she assumes Q carried on that business.
“What makes you assume that?”
“Why not? It’s sort of a family thing, right?” The disdain in her voice is evident, but it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with her parents.
It’s not up to me to tell her the things my aunt and uncle are hiding from her. This would be so much easier if I could tell the whole truth, but I’ve never been able to do that. If anything, that’s another reason this was never going to work out.
For the last year, I’ve been unable to be myself, even more so since there’s always a wall of lies between us. It’s one thing to spend an evening together, a weekend, a family vacation. Being together all the time, though? Having to watch what I say? No, this is better for everybody involved. I can’t break her heart and split the family.
Even though I’m already hurting her. It would be so much worse if she ever found out what our family really does.
Tessa is sweet and so innocent. She would break apart at the seams if she discovered the truth behind her father’s fortunes.
“I guess it’s an option,” I say, trying to make it sound like I’m still on the fence even though I’m not.
“I see.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. I know this is last minute, but I’m sure...” I don’t even have it in me to hand her some well-meaning but empty platitudes. The fact is, I’m not sure of anything. How can I be? I don’t even know what I’ll do tomorrow when I get home, so how could I predict what will happen in Tessa’s future?
“Are you sure there isn’t some other reason you’re doing this? I can’t shake the feeling you’re hiding something. And yeah, like, I know it’s your life to live, and you’re entitled to keep things to yourself, but I can’t help worrying, and you seem so sad. Is it really just because you’re unhappy here? Because I’ll tell you something,” she adds before I have the chance to come up with a response. “Something my mom told me a long time ago. I know it sounds corny, but...”
“Out with it,” I urge.
“Wherever you go, there you are.”
Yeah, I’m pretty sure they came up with that one back in the seventies or something. “Okay...”
“What it means is: it doesn’t matter where you are. You can’t get away from yourself. The things you’re feeling will still be inside you. You’re just changing your surroundings. It’s easy to think life will be different if we go someplace else. But you’re still going to feel the same way in here.” She touches a hand to her chest. “I just want to make sure that’s not what you’re doing to yourself.”
Wow. Grim. Well-intentioned but fucking grim from where I’m sitting.
“I appreciate it,” I whisper, on the edge of tears yet again. If I could get my emotions in check, this might all go more smoothly. “It’s disgustingly complicated, to be honest with you. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I only know this isn’t for me. Maybe I need to take a little time off in general. Figure myself out.”
“That makes sense.” Is she hoping I won’t leave after all?
“I’m sorry to leave you hanging like this.”
“Don’t even worry about that. I don’t want you hanging around here when you’re unhappy just to avoid inconveniencing me. What kind of person would that make me?”
She swipes her hand under her eyes before jumping to her feet. “Okay. Let’s get this finished up so we can go grab dinner.” Since we’ve already packed up the kitchen, it only makes sense to go out to eat on what is now going to be our final night as roommates.
That went better than I expected—these things usually do, I guess. I build them up in my head until they seem completely unmanageable, only to find out there wasn’t nearly so much to worry about. I should have known Tessa wouldn’t pry too deep. She isn’t that kind of person.
Still, I can’t bring myself to feel happy. I know damn well my troubles are my fault. Ren warned me a long time ago that it was useless to care about him. But I insisted, didn’t I? Look where that insistence got me: dragging my feet back to my room so I can pack the rest of my closet before hauling everything back to my parents’ house, where I know they’re going to be overjoyed that I finally broke down and decided to go to Corium, following in Quinton’s path.
I can’t even be happy about that. I’m numb inside. I might as well be dead at this rate. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel anything again, and I’m not sure I want to, come to think of it. Not when feeling things only ends up getting me hurt.
I was so sure he would show up here. That he would never abandon me, not when he cares about me like he does. Or maybe he never cared about me at all. Maybe that’s why he fought so hard for so long to get me to stop wanting him. He looked at his options and decided sparing my feelings was better than flat-out telling me he thought I was hideous.
Then why did he take the risk of coming to you on your birthday?
I hate questions like this because they bring me hope. I need to get rid of my hope. I need to get rid of him entirely until there’s nothing left to remind me of who I thought he was. What I thought we’d have together.
It’s ironic, then, the idea of going to Corium since there will be reminders of him everywhere I turn. That’s where he tried to kill my brother—if he and my father are to be believed.
Maybe this is as good a time as any to start believing it, too. I might finally begin hardening my heart once and for all. So when I walk the halls where I was once so happy and full of hope, my heart racing as I sneaked around our home and Corium with the promise of a few minutes with him, I won’t freeze up in misery. It won’t be so difficult to look back on how naive I was. How foolish.
Ren tried to kill Quinton.
Ren never cared about me.
If he had, he wouldn’t have pushed my brother down the stairs.
Ren is not coming for me, now or ever.
I have to keep telling myself these things. I have to get control of my life and my heart, or I’ll end up constantly leaving myself open to mistakes like the one I made at the party. So mixed up, I had myself believing Ren… I can’t even let myself think about it anymore. It’s too shameful.
I lift my chin, blinking back the tears filling my eyes before reaching for a handful of items still hanging in the closet. No, I am not going to shed another tear over him.
I’m going to start living my life for me, which means admitting the past two semesters spent living as a so-called normal person outside my family’s world has left me dissatisfied. There I was, figuring I wanted a normal life, but then again, what is normal? It’s entirely relative.
And for the Rossi family, a normal life means following in the family’s footsteps.
I am a Rossi, for better or worse.
I work fast, pushing everything else aside in favor of focusing on the task at hand. Though no matter how quickly I pack, Tessa’s warning rings in the back of my head. I can’t outrun it any more than I can outrun my pain.
Wherever you go, there you are.
Wherever I go, I’ll still have to fight against the memories, knowing I’ll never have him again.