Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
Colin
18 Years Old
“You, Colin Hartrick, are going to the prom?”
Colin looked at his perplexed uncle at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly nervous that Walker could see right through him. Walker had missed one hundred percent of the things Colin didn’t outwardly tell him, but that was the beauty of being the sibling who rarely hid anything from anyone. When he did need to hide things, no one was the wiser. Dishonesty wasn’t his favorite pastime, so Colin carefully walked the line, only giving out truthful bits of information.
“I am.” Colin nodded. He was, in fact, going to the prom.
“I think that’s great!” Talia beamed from beside Walker. After their brief spat—and a makeout session that Carter had accidentally interrupted—Walker and Talia were back on friendly terms, yet still inconceivably not together. Colin just didn’t get it. They were clearly in love with each other, a fact every single one of his siblings had pointed out to them, but Walker insisted he needed to attend therapy before starting anything with Talia. Colin couldn’t imagine a world where he was in love with someone and didn’t tell them outright that that was the case. What was the point of dancing around the subject when you could declare it and either move on from rejection or move forward with acceptance? That was why he had plans that very night to tell his girlfriend exactly how he felt.
All of the research had been done to back up the conclusion Colin had come to: he was in love with Scarlett. While most articles were wishy-washy in their determination of what exactly love was, there was a science behind it that he found most intriguing. The articles he’d printed off in case Scarlett wanted proof and the typed summary he had created with pictures and diagrams wrapped in the text to give her something visual to look at explained it all. Beyond the obvious release of hormones such as dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin, there were three basic components to love. He had had a sexual desire for Scarlett from minute one, so that was an easy enough box to check. Infatuation came next. He could almost replay in his head how he had fallen for her like it was his favorite movie. He had become obsessed with the way her brain worked. The way she dressed. The way she talked and rambled and stuttered. God, even the way she breathed was interesting to him, especially when they were in bed and her breathing picked up speed with her heart rate. He couldn’t get enough.
The final nail on the proverbial coffin was attachment. Similar to the way he was attached to his family members, Colin found himself attached to Scarlett. The loss of his parents had upended a routine that had been in place for years. The loss of that comfort and companionship had felt like a gaping wound, a puzzle that was missing a single piece to complete it and therefore would be unfinished forever. Scarlett didn’t fix that particular puzzle, but maybe she would become an edge piece, a foundational part of him that he needed to hold up the rest of the puzzle and even the gap where his parents were missing.
Colin was in love. There was no denying it, and he would never deprive Scarlett of any of his thoughts. He had promised her as much. So, he endeavored to tell her that, and hoped that it would end with them tangled together and naked until morning. A proper prom, if the movies and books were correct. He had researched that as well, needing this night to be as normal and stereotypical after he kept going down rabbit holes with his search history every time he had a therapy session.
Dr. Thomlinson’s questions had started to grate on Colin enough for him to do his own research to counteract them. Sure, he thought that eye contact felt aggressive, but he could do it. He could hold someone’s gaze if he tried—it wasn’t as if he was incapable. And if he often didn’t understand the emotion or underlying meaning behind someone’s words, that didn’t mean there was something wrong with him, it just meant that he needed to pay more attention to someone’s body language so he could know that if their face twitched a certain way, they were angry. Everyone had fabrics and materials they didn’t like. He knew for a fact his mom had despised the feeling and sound of Styrofoam. Once, when it was raining, his dad had complained about the chafing of his cargo shorts. It was common knowledge that certain things were a sensory nightmare, right down to the idiom of nails on a chalkboard, so if his reaction to certain textures was a bit over the top, he could tone it down. Loud noises were the hardest of all, but maybe his parents had done him a disservice by not exposing him to them more frequently. He could control himself, and he would tonight. He would dance with Scarlett to loud music on a crowded dance floor, and he would tell his psychiatrist that he’d had no problems. Mind over matter.
The declaration Colin was ready to proclaim to Scarlett was hard-won. He had practiced a hundred times in the mirror while looking into his own eyes. It was a bit easier knowing that the reflection was himself, but it was still uncomfortable. It felt forced coming out of his mouth because he was so focused on not screwing up the eye contact, but he had gotten good at reciting the verbiage he had heard in movies and read in books. There was a lack of feeling behind it because he had scripted it and written it down to memorize, but he could manage to not count in his head while holding eye contact after several rounds. The entire thing had made him irrationally angry at himself before he got it down, and at one point he’d had to take a break, using that time to perfect his attire for the night. He had found he was talented at tying a tie and lost himself in several YouTube tutorials on harder knots.
“Is that a Double Windsor?” Walker asked, squinting at Colin’s tie.
“It is. Does it look okay?” Colin dipped his chin down but couldn’t quite see the knot from that angle.
“Looks great. Is… there a reason it needs to?”
“It would be annoying if it was crooked,” Colin replied.
“He means are you trying to impress a girl,” Talia chimed in.
“A redhead, maybe, since you said that was your type.” Walker pumped his eyebrows suggestively.
Colin swallowed. “Oh. As far as the tie goes, I was mostly just practicing different knots.” Another partial truth that skirted around the real truth.
“As far as the tie goes?” Walker said slowly, narrowing his eyes at Colin. The discomfort of his gaze made Colin shift on his feet. “Well, I hope you get to dance with whoever you want to dance with.” There was really only one person Colin would ever dance with, and he was about to say as much until he was saved by his sister coming down the steps behind him. “Piper, what the hell is that dress?” Walker huffed.
“A normal one for a high school girl.” Talia smacked Walker’s arm, making him flinch. Colin swiveled to see Piper stomping down the steps in a floor-length, blush pink dress with a slit high up on her thigh.
“I thought you went shopping with her for the dress,” Walker grumbled
“She did,” Piper said sweetly. “I know you insist that I dress like a nun, but I’m not a child.”
“Let it be known that I think your dad would despise that dress,” Walker said.
“You aren’t going to get me to change by playing the dead dad card.” Piper folded her arms over her chest.
“Fine,” Walker grumbled. “No dancing with boys.”
“Isn’t that hypocritical?” Colin cut in. “You just told me you hope I dance with whoever I want to dance with.”
A few steps behind him, Piper grabbed on to Colin’s shoulders and squeezed. “You are absolutely right. Super hypocritical.”
“I’m usually right.” Colin shrugged.
“The difference is that Piper has experience with lying to me and sneaking behind my back. You do not,” Walker said. Colin looked down at the floor, fighting back the urge to correct his uncle. Sneaking behind Walker’s back was his forte now. Even Piper knew that, but their sibling pact was still well intact, and he knew both she and Carter would never rat him out. “I will concede that Piper’s allowed to dance with people as long as it’s not Dickwit or anyone associated with him.”
“Who is Dickwit?” Colin inquired.
“Harden,” Piper answered before responding to Walker, “I don’t want to dance with him, so that shouldn’t be a problem.” As Piper descended the last few steps, one of her heels slipped off. A squeak escaped her mouth as she flailed before Colin stepped out and caught her arm, righting her.
Colin looked at her feet and frowned. “Why did you wear stilettos when you can’t walk in them?”
“Because I look hot in them. Why are you going to Prom when you won’t be able to stand the noise?” Piper shot back. She knew exactly why he was going, so he responded for Walker’s sake.
“Because I think our parents would want me to experience it at least once.” It was part of the reason, to be sure. His mother had routinely expressed how badly she wanted him to have friends and a love life. Piper’s face fell, and she gave him a quick bob of her head, her black-tipped blond hair swaying. It wouldn’t normally be obvious to him that she was upset, but these days he could hear her crying in her room late at night. He never knew what to do about it and figured she was hiding it from everyone on purpose.
“Speaking of your parents,” Walker murmured, holding up his phone, “your mom would roll over in her grave if I didn’t get a few pictures. Act like you like each other and stand a bit closer.”
“She’s my sister. I do like her.” Colin furrowed his brow and stepped closer to Piper. “I don’t have to act like it.”
“Thanks, Col.” Piper set her hands on her hips in a pose beside him. Once again, Colin considered that he was reading too much into her reaction to a mention of their parents. She didn’t look the least bit upset, smiling from ear to ear. He folded his hands in front of himself, always unsure what he should be doing with them in a picture or otherwise, and offered a tight smile in Walker’s direction.
“I think I got one. Colin looks like I pulled his teeth to be there, but Piper looks nice,” Walker noted.
“You both look great.” Talia beamed. Colin made his way toward the door, and a hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks. He turned to find Piper biting her lip.
“I meant to ask you, can you drive me there?”
“I already told you, you can take the van,” Walker called out, jangling his keys in the air. “I’m not going anywhere, and both Pearl and Coop are spending the night at a friend’s house. Carter is at the movies, most likely with a girl he didn’t tell me about. Plus, Tal is here, so she can drive me if I need to go somewhere.”
“Um…” Piper looked over her shoulder and then up at Colin with an expression he couldn’t read at all and stared for an uncomfortable amount of time before dropping her voice into a low whisper. “Please drive me.”
“Why?” Colin wrinkled his forehead.
“I’ll explain in the car. Please ,” Piper begged. Colin let loose a long sigh and nodded resolutely, turning to peer back at Walker, who was looking confusedly in their direction. “Actually, we want to drive together, but thanks for offering,” Piper called back and whipped open the front door, stumbling onto the porch. Colin followed after her and shut the door behind them as he pulled his keys from his pocket.
It took all of three seconds after they had gotten settled in his Audi for him to ask, “Why am I driving you? We’re going to have to make several pit stops before the prom because I had a bunch of plans, so I hope you’re okay with that.”
“That’s fine.” Piper nodded. “Sorry. I just don’t like driving.”
“You don’t like driving,” Colin repeated. She had driven plenty of times, so he didn’t see why it was suddenly a problem.
“Okay, fine. I’m scared of driving,” she mumbled and looked out the window. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t think of a single time Piper had driven anywhere since their parents had died. It was on both of his parents’ list to buy her a car before they had died, and they’d gone so far as to visit several dealerships. Colin figured the reason she hadn’t been driving was because Walker hadn’t yet gotten around to getting her a car himself and she hadn’t really needed to drive anywhere. Before, Piper had taken the car to do mundane tasks all the time, so it maybe should have occurred to him that she hadn’t in a long while, but he had been almost entirely focused on Scarlett lately.
“Why are you scared?” he asked.
Piper scowled. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”
“It’s not obvious to me. Is it because of the statistics?”
“No, it’s because our parents died in a fucking car crash, Colin,” Piper snapped.
He turned the ignition, and warm air started blowing through the vents. “Don’t raise your voice at me.” He didn’t often have to pull rank on his sister, but he would pull it out when she was being unreasonable. “I get your fear, and I’ll drive you, but don’t snipe at me when the root cause of that accident was alcohol, Piper. Something you apparently had no problem dabbling in earlier this year, so sorry if I didn’t immediately understand your reservations about driving.”
“It was someone else drinking that caused it, so it’s valid to be afraid of other people driving on the same roads as me. And how many times are you going to make me apologize for drinking? I’m sorry, okay? Don’t you ever just want the grief to stop?” Piper’s voice cracked. “Of course you wouldn’t get it. You’re just stoic, and nothing about our parents’ death seems to bother you. How are you okay all the time?”
“I’m not fucking okay, Piper!” Colin yelled. He didn’t often get angry, but when he did, it felt like it came out of nowhere. He took a deep breath and steadied himself before he broke down completely and she’d see the difference between their grieving styles to its full extent. His grief felt like it was on a delayed timer, bottling up and exploding in what felt like random spurts that he couldn’t control. “Everyone thinks I’m okay, but it’s just that I don’t react to it the same way as all of you. My therapist is running this assessment on me, and I’m starting to think?—”
“Assessment?” Piper straightened. “What kind of assessment?”
“It’s nothing. He’s wrong, so it doesn’t matter. It can’t be what he’s thinking.” Colin shook his head and let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m sorry for bringing up the drinking again. I’m just worried about you, and I think if something happened to you, too, I would lose my damn mind. I only feel okay when I’m with Scarlett. She’s good with me when I’m struggling.”
“Are we going to pick her up right now?” Piper broke out into a smile.
Colin felt himself smile as he put the car in reverse and started to pull away from the curb. “First, I have to drop by Julie’s Flower Shop to pick up her corsage, and then we’re going to pick up Scarlett.” He pulled out onto the street, his insides vibrating with nerves. “While you’re here, you’re good at lying, right? How do I lie about where I’m going after Prom tonight so Walker doesn’t know I’m in a hotel room with Scarlett?”
“Jesus.” Piper gasped. “Going straight for the jugular with the questions. Um, I’d probably just tell them that you’re spending the night at a friend’s.”
“I don’t have any friends.”
“Yes, you do. Scarlett is your friend, right? And you’re always hanging out with Kashvi, too. I guess you can’t use either of them, though, because that would be suspicious. Maybe just make up someone random? You might run into some trouble if he asks about them later and they don’t actually exist, but you could give it a shot. Walker would question me, but I don’t think he’ll question you. You’re eighteen, and you never lie.”
“I’ve been lying for months,” Colin said proudly.
Piper whipped her head in his direction. “So not just when we snuck you out of the window?”
“Nope. I don’t have Mathletes on Wednesdays. I didn’t even sign up for the team this year,” he boasted.
“Scandalous.” Piper laughed. “You must really like her, then.”
“I love her,” Colin said. The words came out a lot stronger than when he had said them in the mirror before, and he figured that was a good sign. It was also the first time he had said it out loud to anyone, and for some reason, it made sense that it would be Piper who he would tell first. She was always the most in tune with other people’s emotions, while Carter caught on to a joke or social cues quickest.
Piper stayed silent for a long moment before she finally spoke. “I’m really happy for you. Is this scary for you?”
“I mean, I’m scared she won’t love me back,” Colin considered.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. When we’re at school, she looks at you the way Mom looked at Dad.” Colin perked up at that, and a smile returned to his face again. “I meant more like… you aren’t worried about losing her like our parents?”
“Not really.” Colin said. He had thought about this before and had already asked the proper questions and calculated the outcomes. “I have the same chance of losing her to sudden death as I do you or Carter or Pearl or Cooper. Granted, there are a ton of factors that go into it, but I already know that Scarlett doesn’t have the RUNX1 gene mutation that her brother had, so I can most likely cross Acute Myeloid Leukemia off the list. She was tested for it forever ago.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“If she had familial platelet disorder from that gene, she’d have a twenty to fifty percent lifetime risk of getting a blood cancer,” Colin replied. It had always been his norm to research every little thing, but his research on Tucker was starting to rival for his attention the most.
“Okay, but what about the saying ‘when it rains, it pours’?” Piper asked. “Wasn’t it already unlikely for us to lose both our parents? Who’s to say the odds will ever be in our favor again?”
“I think that saying has more to do with people’s ability to recognize the bad when they’re already in a negative spot. Or, I guess, people can put themselves in a situation where the odds are higher. That’s why I don’t have a problem with driving or with the idea that Scarlett will die, because those are all risks that I can’t control much. I do have a fear that you’ll drink and something will happen to you because of choices you made that you could have mitigated risk for.” Colin pulled around a corner on Main Street and saw the flower shop in the distance.
“That’s a very sweet way to say you’re worried about me and think I’m irresponsible.” Piper let out a small scoff.
“You aren’t usually irresponsible.” He found a parking spot right outside the shop and meticulously started to parallel park.
“Thanks.”
“You should choose a corsage. I think they have some premade ones you could get. Maybe a sunflower one.”
“It’s weird to get a corsage from your brother,” Piper protested as she was getting out of the car.
“You could always take your own advice and tell everyone you got it from someone made-up.”
“Clearly, they have to be tall, dark, and handsome, with the temperament of a golden retriever,” Piper said.
“You can’t date someone with a similar personality. It’d be like hanging out with yourself. Scarlett, for example, is an artist who hates chemistry, loves to dress in bright colors, and frequently forgets to take her birth control pills,” Colin said, holding up a finger for each of his bullet points. “I suck at painting. I love chemistry. I dress in cool or neutral colors. And I’m the one who reminds her to take her birth control pills.” He reached for the door and held it open for Piper, who walked under his arm into the flower shop.
She looked back over her shoulder. “How do you remind her?”
“I have a reminder set on my phone, and I call her to take it and stay on the phone till she does.” Colin shrugged.
Piper scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. “She can’t just put a reminder on her phone to do it herself?”
“She has one,” he explained. “But it’s like her brain runs at a billion beats per second unless she’s focused on a project. So the alarm will go off on her phone, and when she’s halfway to the sink to get a glass of water to take the pill, she’ll have moved on to something else.”
“Chaotic,” Piper giggled.
“I like her chaos. She fills in all the gaps in conversation so I don’t have to worry about what I should be doing or if I should be talking more or less. And she laughs at my jokes.” Colin couldn’t help but feel prideful about how much Scarlett loved his brand of humor.
“She likes your really terrible puns?” Piper teased. “She’s a keeper.”