Chapter Twenty-Four Scarlett
“Are you okay? Do you want more tea?”
“I’m fine. Thanks, Ken.”
Kennedy still hovers over me with a steaming mug of tea she’s already prepared. “Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind.”
“You guys know I’m fine, right?” I ask, shouting so they can hear me from the kitchen.
It’s been a few weeks since Christmas and adjusting to my life again post-argument with my parents has been difficult.
It’s honestly harder this time ignoring them, because I have so many questions.
So many things I still don’t understand, and the uncertainty of it is killing me.
But I can’t face them right now. Not after the way they made me feel.
They’ve been calling every couple of days, seeing if I’ve changed my mind about answering, when I’m pretty sure they know that I haven’t.
I don’t know when it’s going to settle down between us, but I’m not holding my breath.
I’m done trying to prove to them that I’m capable.
I know I am. They might not have seen it, but up until Christmas I felt ready.
My designs were near perfect, I had completed an interview, done my speech and I was one more disaster away from acing the cannoli recipe.
But now that the moment has passed, I’ve got to find something else to focus on.
It’s a new year and a new semester. The best thing I can focus on right now is myself and my studies. When senior year rolls around in the fall, future me is going to be grateful that I didn’t spend all this time sulking.
“We know,” Kennedy says, returning to the living room, empty-handed this time, thank God. “We’re just trying to be here for you.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. But I’m not a sick puppy.
I know how to look after myself,” I say, smiling at the two of them when they exchange a worried glance.
“Besides, this really isn’t a big deal. It’s one setback.
If anything, my parents have done me a huge favor.
” They’re both still a little too hesitant to give me a proper smile and I roll my eyes, patting the seats beside me on the couch. “Come sit. Both of you.”
Wren skips toward me, a giddy smile on her face as she plants herself on my left side. “Yes, ma’am.”
Kennedy’s still got that crease between her eyebrows that she gets when she’s worried. I don’t know how many more times I can tell her that I’m okay before she stops worrying. I give her an encouraging smile and she finally takes a seat on the other side of me.
Wren points to the papers in my lap. “What have you been working on?”
I brush off the dust from the pencil on the paper, holding up one of the pantsuits I’ve designed. “I thought I might as well use the designs I was making for my parents and put them into a portfolio.”
“They’re so good,” Wren says, helping herself to the stack of papers in my lap.
I’ve been doing a lot more of these quick doodles since leaving Evan’s house.
Knowing that I’m only doing these for myself has helped in some way.
It’s made it easier to create something new and fresh without any expectations.
I always produce my best work that way. Not when I’ve got deadlines or I’m trying to prove something.
“I agree,” Kennedy says, pointing at a variation of outfits on one page. “I love these.”
Whenever I get a compliment from Kennedy, I always feel that much better.
She’s studying art and photography alongside her communications degree.
I know art is subjective, but Kennedy has the best taste.
It’s the reason why our apartment looks as good as it does, and she took all of our professional headshots.
She sees everything with such a particular eye that when she says my designs are good, I think she might be on to something.
I smile, bumping my shoulder into hers. “Thanks.”
“What are you going to do with them?” she asks.
I shrug. “I haven’t decided yet. It would be cool to submit them somewhere, but . . . you know, my family.”
“Respectfully, Scarlett, fuck them,” Kennedy says, folding her arms against her chest.
Wren’s eyes widen. “Wow, okay, Ken.”
“I’m sorry, but I mean it,” Kennedy says. “What they did was messed up. Leading you around on this whole chase for nothing. And then they had the audacity to tell you you’re not ready for that kind of responsibility. You could quite literally do anything you want, and I mean that.”
I stifle a laugh at how worked up she’s gotten. “Thanks, Ken.”
She huffs out another frustrated breath. “You’re welcome, and I’m sorry, again. I know you love your parents, but that’s not an excuse to put up with them.”
I can tell she’s talking from experience so I just nod, squeezing her hand.
I think back to what Evan said about doing it on my own. How I could use the opportunity in Boston to speak to small and bigger companies about a possible collaboration. But the idea is still so fresh.
I’ve never thought about branching out on my own.
Working for Voss has always been the priority.
The goal. And now that it seems like I’m never going to get the position that I want, I need to start considering other options.
It would be a lot of work, and I would probably end up betraying my family in the process, but it’s a possibility.
One I’m not too sure I want to be thinking about just yet.
I blow a raspberry, wanting to shake all those weird feelings away. “Anyway. What’s been going on with you two? What are your two updates?”
Since a timetabling mishap in freshman year, the girls and I created our own way to fill each other in after we spend a lot of time apart.
When asked to give our two updates, we each have to pick two of the most important things that have happened to us in the time we weren’t together.
It keeps everyone in the loop with our separate college experiences and it’s always the best part of my week.
“I’ll go first,” Wren says, and I turn to her. “I got a really good grade in my last creative writing assignment and the skating season is finally over. Well, for me at least.”
Ken and I clap as per tradition before I drop my head to Wren’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you skate much this year.”
“Don’t worry about it. I think it’s good you guys don’t come as often,” she says.
“Are you sure?” Kennedy asks.
“Yeah, it’s less pressure,” Wren says, and I lean up off her to look her in the eyes. “I love it when you guys are screaming at me in the crowd, but you honestly make me a little nervous.”
My eyes widen. “We make you nervous?”
“I am capable of being nervous, you know. It’s, like, my default setting,” Wren laughs and I just frown. “I think I just want to impress everyone. Even you two. Especially you two. You know what my best looks like and I don’t want to be anything less than that for you.”
I squeeze her hand. “We’ve literally seen you both fall on your ass and do some of the best skating in the same night. You always impress us.”
“I guess,” Wren mumbles. “I think I’m getting better at letting go of that, though. I just want to skate for fun and let it continue to make me feel the way it does. I’m excited for this new era and focusing on my writing more.”
I beam at that. Wren has been writing a romantasy series for the last two years that she only lets me and Kennedy read.
We have our own secret book club meetings every now and then where Wren reads a few chapters to us aloud.
She’s an incredible writer, and I can’t wait for the day she publishes some of her work.
“I love this for you, Wrenny,” Kennedy says and Wren frowns at the nickname.
“What about you, Ken?” I ask, and she scrunches her nose up.
“Nothing has really happened. I’ve just been stressed with finals, but now that they’re over I guess I have more time to work on my art.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You don’t sound too thrilled about that.”
She shrugs.
“What about your New Year’s resolutions?
You didn’t put them on the cake,” Wren says, referring to the cake they made for New Year’s with their resolutions written on a piece of paper stuck to a toothpick.
I wish I could’ve been there for the new tradition, but I was too busy getting railed by Evan Branson.
Kennedy shivers. “I don’t feel like I’m ready to make any goals this year. I don’t know what I want or what I want to achieve. I just . . . I want to see where it goes.”
I can tell there’s something else that’s bugging her, but I know trying to pry it out of her won’t get her to open up, so I keep quiet.
Kennedy has always been a little closed off from us.
Mostly because we met her as a teenager, and we didn’t grow up together like Wren and I did.
She knows we’re always going to have her back when she eventually finds the words, and that’s all that matters.
“Spontaneity is your thing. You’re good at going with the flow,” Wren says.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Kennedy says, perking up a little. She gives us both a mischievous grin. “Speaking of . . . Can we go to karaoke tonight?”
“Tonight? It’s already tonight,” I groan.
I’m not sure when I turned into such a homebody, but the idea of going out is not nearly as appealing as it used to be.
I love staying in with my girls. I love gossiping and watching movies and laughing at stupid videos together.
But I also know that if I don’t go out, I’m going to have the worst FOMO ever.
“Soooo let’s go right now,” Kennedy says, jumping up from her seat and Wren does the same. They both stand in front of me, each of them holding a hand out for me to take.
I sigh. “Ahh, fuck it. Why not?”
*
Vocal Vortex is a karaoke bar downtown that is one of our guilty pleasures.
None of us can really hold a note, but coming here always guarantees a good night out.
Apart from game nights and parties at Miles’s house, it’s the only real part of college culture I let myself indulge in that isn’t academic.
I like getting dressed up with my friends and using my fake ID for its intended use.
After a round of shots, the girls and I stand near the back of the crowded room so we can snag the karaoke machine when it’s free.
Even though I’ve been with them since I came back from Evan’s house, it feels like there’s never enough time to catch up since they’ve spent so much of their time fussing over me.
I push every weird feeling I’ve had aside and commit to spending time with my best friends.
We drink and dance and drink some more until we’re tumbling over each other, laughing and singing along to pop classics blaring from the speakers.
I’ve missed this feeling. Being carefree and surrounded by the people who truly know me.
Kennedy throws her arm around my shoulder, and I drop mine around her waist to steady her. “You never told us how things went with Evan at his house? You were there for a whole week.”
I feel a blush creep up on my cheeks, and I’m not so sure I can blame it all on the alcohol. “It was nice,” I say to them.
Wren raises an eyebrow. “Nice?”
“Yeah. He played piano for me, cooked so much food, and we had lots of sex. It was great.”
“You slept with him?!” Kennedy yells in my ear, and I wince, pulling away from her slightly.
“I thought I told you that already.”
“No, you absolutely did not tell us that already,” Wren shouts. “I think we would’ve remembered.”
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. Kennedy grins, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “Was it good?”
“Obviously,” I admit, and this time I know I’m blushing.
Sex with Evan wasn’t like what I thought it would be.
It was hot and wonderful and perfect. It was sweet words whispered softly into my neck and large hands splayed across my stomach.
It was intense eyes staring up at me from between my legs, a desperate, pained expression on his face.
It was my fingers in his hair and raking down his back until I left marks.
It was him and it was me. It was us. And I wanted it to last forever.
“I can’t believe this is happening in my timeline. Right in front of my eyes,” Wren says, practically bouncing as she squeezes my hands.
“You guys said it yourself; this rivalry thing was bound to blow over. And it has.”
Kennedy smirks. “And you blew him.”
“Yep,” I say, holding my chin up. The pride only lasts for a second until I think about all the other moments in between.
The way he showered me after the first time we hooked up.
The way he cooked every meal for me and made sure I was comfortable.
Our legs intertwined on the piano bench while he’d play soft melodies that would almost put me to sleep.
I’d hear him whispering gentle words to me during the night.
I shiver at the thought. “I actually think I might like him. It’s terrifying.”
“But exciting,” Wren counters.
“Still terrifying.”
I shake my head, trying to dance and sing away those feelings for the rest of the night.
I need to chill. I’ve done casual before.
In the past, all I’ve done is casual. But I don’t want that with Evan.
I don’t want to see other people or just have sex with him.
I want this to mean something, and I want to be careful with him.
I don’t want to rush through things and only text him when I want to hook up with him.
I want him to be there for me like he has been these last few weeks.
I want to listen to him play piano and let him feed me and hold me.
It’s scary to want someone like this. But it also reminds me that my world didn’t end on Christmas Day. The earth is still turning. My life is still going on, and there is still so much more that I want to keep working for.