“So, he never got to tell you what he was going to say?” he asks.
“No. I’m assuming it was some fucked up confession or something,” I say, shrugging.
“Right. Well, keep an eye out,” he says, getting up out of the seat to walk me out. He pushes the door open, but I don’t walk through.
“Yeah. About that…” I start and he tilts his head at me. I rub the back of my neck anxiously before shaking out my hand. “Look, I’m out. I'm done. Whatever it is that you want to keep digging for, you do it on your own. We could have also been killed if we weren't careful and God, ifanythinghappened to Scarlett, I would have personally murdered whoever hurt her.”
My dad nods at first. He understands what it’s like in this industry. He tries to protect me, and he tried to protect my mom. I know he would do anything to make sure we’re safe and he has to understand that I would do the same thing for Scarlett.
“You’re starting to sound like you love her, boy,” my dad says playfully, smirking. Weirdly enough, I don’t want to punch him in the throat for suggesting that. I stand my ground.
“She’s my partner in everything, in every way. She can give me a hard time, but that doesn’t mean I don't want to protect her. She's not done anything wrong to deserve any of that,” I say. He studies me for a moment, and he doesn’t say anything. For a second, I think he’s proud of me in some way. I glance down at my watch. “Speaking of her, I’m meant to meet her now, so we don’t fail our class. And I meant what I said. Anything I find out; I’m not doing it for you.”
He holds out his hand to me and I look at it for a second before shaking it. “Weirdly, I respect that,” he says with a low chuckle. I give him one of my best smiles, finally feeling like a weight has lifted off my shoulders.
“Good.”
* * *
Most of Scarlett and I’s conversations over the last few days have been a lot of one-worded ones. I’m fine with it. This is her process and I’m going to be with her throughout all of it. I just wish I could do something to ease her pain.
She came straight back to school on Monday like nothing happened. She came in, attended every lecture, completed her homework, and gave nobody any reason to suspect that she just lost a family member. She still dressed the same. She still let out her snarky comments while we studied. She’s good at pretending everything’s fine.Too good.
“How are you feeling?” I ask when I return from the bathroom. We’ve not said much to each other today, but we’re getting closer to finishing our app. We need to work on a colour scheme and more finer details, but it’s coming together perfectly. She looks up at me, her eyes still a little heavy and dull.
“Not great,” she mutters before dropping her eyes to her laptop.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I suggest quietly, shifting in my seat.
“Not really.”
“Want to sit in silence and read?”
She nods and we do.
She finishes up her final research for getting the app together, emailing back and forth with the software developer, while I stare at colours, so I don’t stare at her.
Don’t get me wrong, I love it when she shouts me and tells me I’m doing something wrong, but there is something incredibly special about these quiet moments where she lets me help her and be there for her.
There is nothing more that I want or need more than Scarlett Voss. She’s justeverything.
“Hey,” she says quietly, snapping me out of my daydream.
I look up at her. I was doing the thing that she does – where she does things without realising them. Maybe that’s what happens to her. Maybe she gets too stuck in her head that she doesn’t know what her body is doing. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I shouldn’t be stressed, but I am. We’ve still got to finish the project. I don’t know where we stand or how to help her. The thought of the mystery still not being solved is making me worry more than usual.
“You’re tapping the table again. Can you chill for two seconds?”
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asks quietly, glancing around the empty library. I’ve stopped tapping as fast as it was before, and it’s now slowed down to a rhythmic tap.
“I don’t know. I just…I just need to do something,” I say, running my hands through my hair as I lean back in the chair. When I look at her, her eyes have softened, and her mouth is pulled into a small smile.
“What do you need?”
You,I almost say like a fuckinglunatic.
The last thing I want to do is confuse her having a hard time with actually liking me beyond the new friendship we discovered. I’m losing my shit here. Why is this coming to such a surprise for me? It shouldn't be, right? She's been right in front of me for years and I’ve been aware of her before that. I can’t get awkward now. Not when she’s already going through so much.
