by Ashley Logan
“Sorry. You have it.”
Reaching for it again, Scarlett watches me as she takes a bite, chewing slowly. I have no idea what she’s thinking, but I’m left feeling very strange and uncomfortable. Taking a different cookie, I keep my eyes low and bid them both goodnight before moving quickly back to my room.
Safely behind my door, I release the breath I’ve been holding.
What have I done?
I let her know how I feel and now things are different and weird. It was hard enough to keep myself in check before, but now that she’s aware of my interest, she’s observing me for signs of goodness-knows-what! I used to be able to admire her covertly when she was oblivious, but now I have to watch my every move because she’s watching my every move.
Sitting on my bed, I dunk my cookie in the hot chocolate and savor its sweetness. Scar’s Mom is always sending her home with treats for all of us. She’s a great baker. I like all of her baking, but the caramel crunchies remind me of the butterscotch bikkies my mom used to make. Their taste takes me back to when I used to sit on the kitchen counter, waiting for the oven timer to chime while I licked raw cookie dough from the mixing spoon. Mom would be sipping her tea and smiling at me as she asked me about my day and everything was as it should be. How times change.
As I finish the last of my hot chocolate and lick my finger to collect every last cookie crumb from my lap, I have an interesting thought. Taking my mug back to the kitchen, I find Violet and Scar still talking in the kitchen, though a sudden hush falls when they see me.
“Bruno,” Vi says, giving me an odd look. “You okay?”
Putting my mug in the dishwasher, I nod, eying the empty plate where cookies once lay.
“You want another one?” Scarlett asks, following my gaze.
“Would it be alright if I had two?”
Smiling she rolls her eyes and reaches for the cat tin. “If you like.”
Opening the third drawer down, I pull out a resealable snack bag to put them in. Scarlett pauses with the tin halfway between us.
“You’re not eating them now?”
Reaching in, I take two caramel crunchies, sealing them safely in the little bag. “I have someone I’d like to share these with tomorrow. I think she’ll love them as much as I do.”
Scarlett’s expression changes from confusion to disappointment and she slowly pulls the cookie tin back to her chest where she keeps it closely protected. “Oh. Goodnight then,” she says, turning her back to me.
I look to Violet for some assistance in understanding what is happening, but she just closes her eyes and shakes her head at me.
“Goodnight,” I say, backing away and returning to the sanctuary of my bedroom. Scarlett calls me moody, but she’s got problems of her own.
Setting the cookies down on my bedside, I head for the bathroom to brush my teeth. It smells of Scar’s shampoo and body spray and I soon forget about feeling annoyed with her. I can’t be angry at someone who smells so good.
Back in my room, I strip down to my boxers, switch the light off and fall into bed. It’s barely past eight, but I’m done. I couldn’t stay awake another five minutes. Thinking a while, I reach for my phone and set an alarm for 5a.m. before sinking back under the covers.
THE SCREAMING PULLS me from the depths of sleep and I rush out of bed. Tangled in her bedclothes again, Scarlett screams as she fights them off.
“Scar! Wake up! You’re dreaming!” I yell, trying to get her to hear me above the racket as Violet joins me. Pulling her blankets off her, I call her name again and she stops.
“Kenny?” she asks in a strange voice. Her eyes are open, but it’s as if she can’t see me and Vi; as if she’s still dreaming.
“It’s Bruno, Scar. You’re safe. It was just a dream.”
Her eyes come into focus as she looks at my face. “Bruno?” She turns to Violet. “Vi?”
“We’re here, Scar,” Violet confirms. “You were dreaming. You still look pretty sedated,” she says, gently encouraging Scarlett to return her head to the pillow. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right here with you.”
With her eyes already closed again, Scarlett mumbles her thanks, and drifts back into sleep. Violet and I look at each other and smile awkwardly.
“Who’s Kenny?” I whisper. Vi shrugs and pulls a face before climbing over Scar to the other side of the bed.
“I heard you kept her company last night,” she says quietly, positioning herself at a distance and straightening out Scarlett’s blankets.
Shrugging, I run my hands over my face as I live the middle ground between being awake and being asleep.
“She missed her meds, you were away and I was here. Did she take them tonight?” I ask. Considering Scar’s confusion and easy return to sleep, I’d assume it was chemically induced.
“Yeah, but one missed dose is obviously enough to disrupt the nightmare coverage. She might suffer a few more until it’s under control again.”
“Oh.” Nodding, I look around. Detaching Scarlett’s robe from my foot, I hang it on her door hook with a sigh.
“Bruno,” Vi says, as if she’s about to ask a difficult question. I hold up a hand and shake my head.
“Please don’t,” I ask.
“You don’t know what I’m going to say,” she says, frowning at me. “I already know you like her. A lot. It’s obvious to everyone but her. Why do you keep pushing her away?”
“I have my reasons.”
She studies me a while. “They’d better be good ones.”
Sighing, I watch Scarlett’s tranquil face. “I can’t give her what she wants. Not yet anyway. Maybe never,” I say and my voice catches. That’s the first time I’ve said it out loud and it hurts even worse than I thought it would. “She deserves better.”
“How do you know what she wants? Have you asked her?” Vi says, as I’m walking out the door.
Pausing, I turn around. “I know enough. Goodnight, Vi.”
THE ALARM SOUNDS AND I shut it off as quickly as I can, hoping no-one else heard it. Walking quietly to the door, I press my ear against it, hoping to hear Nat’s approach if she uses our bathroom again. Frowning at the sound of snoring, I poke my head out the door to find Scarlett fast asleep in the hall outside the bathroom door.
Creeping over, I shake her shoulder to wake her.
“Mm?”
“Scarlett, why are you asleep on the hall floor?” I whisper, keeping my ears pricked for the sound of doors closing and footsteps.
“Siren,” she mumbles, using Natalia’s stage-name as she fights to wake up.
“Well she’s not going to climb over you to sing if she’s trying to keep it secret, is she?” I say, helping her to stand on unsteady feet. “When do your drugs wear off?” I ask as she leans on me heavily, her eyes losing the battle to stay open.
Shrugging in an over-emphasized way, she rests against me again, emitting a low purring sound. Looking down, I see that she’s fallen asleep in my arms.
At the far end of our apartment, I hear a bump and a foreign cuss word. Lifting Scar, I take her with me, shutting us both in my room as Natalia heads our way. Pressed against the door, I wait until I hear the shower running before I attempt to raise Scarlett from her floppy coma.
“Scarlett!” I cry in a hushed tone as I shake her.
One eye cracks open. “Bruno?”
“Of course it’s me. Who else would be keeping you in check at five in the morning?”
Both green eyes open wider. “Natalia!”
“She just turned the shower on. Do you think you can keep your eyes open and move your ass when we need to hide again?”
She squints at me. “Of course I can. I’m not an invalid.”
I laugh quietly. “You do realize I’m holding you up, don’t you?”
Looking down at us, Scarlett pushes out of my arms and looks about my room. “Why are you hugging me in your room?” she says, using the wall to keep herself stable, but appearing much more awake now.
&nb
sp; “You were snoring in front of the bathroom door, super spy. I heard Nat coming and pulled you in here. Remember?”
Frowning, she scratches her head. “Vaguely. And I wasn’t snoring!”
“You’re right, it sounded more like a lawnmower,” I say with a smile as I crack my door open again. “You coming?”
I don’t wait for an answer as I slip out the door and take a seat outside the bathroom door to wait for the show to start. Scarlett slides down the wall next to me. Our eyes meet in the dim light as Natalia’s sweet voice sounds out. Again, it’s a foreign song that I don’t recognize, but its emotion is easy to understand. Hauntingly beautiful, it brings a tear to my eye, the strange words affecting me more deeply than I would have thought possible without knowing the true meaning behind them.
Sliding her hand into mine, Scarlett leans into me as we listen. The song continues; some long, convoluted ballad of love and loss. As Nat’s voice fades and there is silence, Scarlett and I sit frozen in the hall, paralyzed by the sadness in the air. The shower turns off, jerking us out of our inert state.
Bumping heads, we get to the safety of my open door as quickly as we can, shutting it behind us. Our eyes meet and I can see that Scarlett has tracks down her cheeks from her tears. Saying nothing, I reach for the light switch and turn it off, wiping my own cheek once it’s dark. We wait for Nat’s footsteps to fade away before checking the hall is clear. Closing the door, I turn the light back on.
Again, we just watch each other, knowing we’ve crossed a line. Moved too strongly by Natalia’s gift; we’ve become silent witnesses to her darkest emotions. Intruders on an experience that will forever echo in our souls.
With a sniff, Scarlett breaks eye contact and looks to the ceiling. “I should go. Before Violet wakes up wondering where I am,” she adds, brushing at her cheeks.
With a solemn nod, I open my door for her. She hesitates.
“You can stay, if you like,” I offer, moving to sit on my footlocker so I don’t appear intimidating. “We could talk,” I suggest, gesturing for her to make herself at home. She stares at her hands as they twist in the hem of her t-shirt.
“I was thinking we could talk about anything except what just happened out in the hall,” I add. “If I hold those feelings too long I’m going to a dark place and I’d rather stay here. With you.”
Scarlett doesn’t look up, but she slowly sits on the edge of my bed. A shiver visibly runs through her and she looks to me as she touches my blanket.
“Go ahead,” I say, reaching for my hoodie and pulling it on. Looking at my boxer shorts, I step to the closet and pull on a pair of sweatpants too. “What do you want to talk about?” I ask as she wraps my blanket around her.
She shrugs. It’s not often Scarlett is so quiet.
“How’s your writing going?”
“Terrible,” she says, pulling the blanket closer around herself. “I’m trying to create something encouraging, but I’m too uninspired to get any further than chapter three. If I can’t even motivate myself, what hope do my words have?”
Running a hand over my head, I stretch my arms over my head and twist before relaxing them to my sides and shrugging. “Maybe you’re not ready to write it.”
“Meaning what? That I’m too inexperienced to offer inspiration?” she growls.
“Well that hit a nerve,” I say, shifting back a little. “I was just thinking maybe take a break to write something else and go back to it when you are motivated. But what would I know? I’m just the jerk that offends you every time I open my mouth.”
Still frowning at me, she sighs. “Not every time.”
“Often enough that you assume I’m insulting you when I speak,” I say quietly, dropping my eyes to my feet. “There are lots of ways to inspire people with your writing. It doesn’t have to be an all-out motivational guide.”
“What are you saying?”
“Well... you like solving mysteries. Why not try to write one?” I look up from under my brows, to see if her anger has diffused. Her eyebrows have settled into an upright position and the longer she stares at me, the more relaxed her shoulders get.
“You know it’s really weird when you act nice and say helpful stuff.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Getting off the bed, she wraps my blanket around herself like a cloak. “I’m stealing your blanket. It’s furry and I like it,” she says, moving to the door.
I stand to hold it open for her. “Just so we’re clear, you’re borrowing it, and will return it later.”
Pulling it closer, she rubs her cheek on the soft fabric and sighs. “I’ll think about it.”
Smiling, I lean on the door frame as she walks next door. “We going to the gym later?”
She pauses outside her door. “It’s Monday, isn’t it?”
“Just checking. I’m a bit confused lately.”
“I noticed.” Smiling slightly, she disappears inside her room.
CHAPTER SIX
SCARLETT
“Is that Bruno’s blanket?”
It is the first thing Vi notices when she wakes up.
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you writing?” she asks, pulling herself up to lean against the pillows like I am.
“No. You’re dreaming. Shh.” I keep writing to finish my train of thought. When I lower my pen, she’s staring at me.
“Talk.”
“Thanks for staying over. Did I dream out loud again?”
Sighing, she rubs her face. “I didn’t think you’d remember. You were pretty out of it.” Shaking her head, she pins me with her eyes again. “Don’t change the subject. Did you sleep with Bruno sometime this morning?” she asks in a disbelieving tone as she eyes his blanket. Reaching out, she strokes it and her eyes widen. She strokes it again.
“I know, right? That’s why I stole it.”
“Shame about the color.”
Pulling it around me, I consider the deep brown fleece and shrug. “I don’t know. It’s kind of like a big cuddly bear is hugging me.”
“Did a big cuddly bear hug you?” she asks, rising up onto her knees so she can see my face better. “A bear named Bruno?”
“I don’t know that I’d call Bruno cuddly,” I say, avoiding the question. “He’s so ripped, I don’t think even one part of his body is soft enough to be considered cuddly.”
“Scarlett Warner! Did he or did he not put any of his hard body parts anywhere near you!”
Giggling, I nudge her and she tips sideways. “Of course I didn’t sleep with Bruno. We were just... up for the bathroom at the same time and talked a little while.”
“In his room.”
“I didn’t want to wake you again. I don’t know how long I kept you up in the night. Sorry, again, by the way.”
Violet crosses her arms and leans back against the pillows. “Stop apologizing. I bet you didn’t apologize to Bruno for waking him up.”
“I woke him too?”
“You were screaming, so yeah. He beat me to your bedside and helped you escape your blankets.”
“Great.” Sighing, I set my pen and notebook down.
Violet nods at it. “Feeling inspired?”
I can feel my forehead crinkling as I try to say Bruno inspired me without it sounding like I’m affected by the guy. “I’m just trying something else until inspiration strikes.”
“Something like what?” Vi asks, clearly sensing there’s more to the story. Literally.
“I thought I’d try distracting myself with a story. It’s been a while since I just wrote a fun story without trying to put a message in my words.”
Watching me carefully, she nods. It’s a small movement, more to herself than to me and I wonder about what conclusions she’s drawing.
“I think that’s a great idea. Am I allowed to know what it’s about?” she asks, a sly grin on her face.
“It’s about a Med student who drops out to pursue a hunky detective,” I tease.
“Liar.”
Laughing, Vi scoots off the end of my bed and makes for the door. “If you’re not going to tell me, I can only assume it’s deeply erotic,” she says over her shoulder as she retreats into her room.
“Yeah, you know me!” I call after her, shedding Bruno’s blanket and looking around for my robe. It’s hanging on the door. Weird. “It’s a fairytale really,” I continue. “It’s all about being heroically fucked against a wall by some mysterious stranger only to never see him again so we can all live happily ever after!”
Donning the robe, I head for the kitchen only to stop immediately after leaving my room. Toothbrush in mouth, Bruno is halfway between the bathroom and his bedroom, staring at me. I feel my cheeks flame as I think about what I just said. Taking a deep breath, I tighten my ponytail and prepare to act casually. Bruno turns and retreats back to the bathroom, but not before I see the sadness in his eyes.
Moving on to the kitchen, I pour milk in my cereal, wondering if I left his room too early this morning and if he’s gone to that dark place he spoke of. Deciding I’ll follow it up on our way to the gym, I wait for Natalia to come in for breakfast so I can ask her if she’s feeling OK too. Turning on the TV for background noise, I flip the channel onto cartoons, knowing I can’t deal with anything heavier.
IT’S WORSE THAN I THOUGHT. The usual brisk walk to our gym is painfully quiet. I ask Bruno if he minds stopping by the mission with me to ask about Marty, a homeless guy that’s been missing from the neighborhood for a few weeks. Shrugging, he follows as I lead and stands silently as I ask around. There’s no news about Marty, and I try not to worry, knowing he just disappears sometimes. Sighing, I thank those who tried to help and head back towards the gym with Bruno still shadowing me like a dark cloud.
He walks with his hands in his pockets and his head down. Every attempt at conversation is shot down, not by a snide comment, but by empty, mono-syllabic responses. Sighing again, I decide it’s not my place to raise Bruno’s spirits.