CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Austin
I made Scarlett stay inthe hospital overnight for observation. That went over well, and I’m pretty sure I learned a whole new set of obscenities I’ve never heard before. She’s asleep now and I’m trying my best to fall asleep in the guest chair next to her. The only thing that really stood out within her angered rage was the amount of times she told me I can’t tell her what to do. I know she likes to be in control of her life and doesn’t like being persuaded to do things, but she seemed to take her anger to a new level tonight. It makes me wonder if there’s something more going on in her life—something she hasn’t told me.
The moment I find a comfortable position to sleep in, I hear Scarlett’s sheets rustle. “Hey,” she says. “Are you awake?”
I clear my throat, trying to snap out of my haze. “Yeah, yeah, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” she says
“Don’t worry about it. I get it.” I don’t, but we can talk when she’s feeling better.
“So, I’ve never told anyone this before … ” Oookay, I guess now is good too.
“What is it?”
“My dad was abusive,” she says.
I didn’t mean to stand up and shove the guest chair out from beneath my ass, but it was my only instinctual reaction. “What? Did he hurt you?”
“No, no, can you be calm? That’s what I need.”
I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. I place my hands up to show I’ve calmed myself, and I sit back down. “I didn’t mean to react that way.”
“It’s okay,” she’s keeping her voice down because the room is dark for the most part, and the hallway is still since it’s the middle of the night. “I should have said, he abused my mom.” I’ve felt connected to Scarlett on a variety of levels, but from the beginning, there has been a missing piece about her that I haven’t figured out. She’s so forward and determined that it seems like a form of protection rather than a way of life. “He pushed her around and hit her.”
“That’s pretty shitty that you had to watch.”
“I didn’t just watch. I hit him back, but it didn’t do much damage,” she says. Scarlett’s tiny. Not that I would ever question her ability to take care of herself, but there’s only so much she could probably do. Again, I wouldn’t go about testing her, though. “I told my mom to leave him, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. My grandparents all died when I was younger, and she didn’t have a leg to stand on. Basically, my parents sleep in different bedrooms now and only talk when necessary. I feel so sorry for her, but I’ve offered to help her a million times and she just sticks by his side.”
“I heard everything you just said, but ... you hit him back?” I ask her, rewinding everything she just said to focus on that tidbit.
“You know what’s weird? When you see someone you love hurting someone else you love, emotions sometimes cause you to react in unexpected ways.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” I tell her.
“I know you do,” she says. “Austin, I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life, but I know I don’t want to be under a push pin, stuck somewhere.”
“I understand that more than I can explain,” I tell her. I know our stories are different, but I really do get where she’s coming from.
“You do?” she asks.
“I don’t plan on staying here forever. I never have. I was just waiting until I figured out what to do next.” In response to my confession, Scarlett releases the arm that’s holding her head up and falls back into her pillow with a smile.
Now that I’m wide awake and staring at her, I’m left waiting for a resolution to this conversation, but Scarlett is the queen of half sentences and partial thoughts. “Okay, well nice talk,” I tell her.
“I’m not done talking yet,” she says.
“Oh, well, I just figured since you were closing your eyes and pulling the sheets up—”
“Shh,” she says.
I drag my chair across the floor, making way too much noise. “Are you playing more games with me, Miss Scarlett?”
“What?” she asks.
“Do you even know what you just said?” I ask her.
