“Who is she? How long have you been friends with her? Why didn’t you take her on a date since you clearly like her?” The questions all come out at once like word vomit.
“Aspen is a friend,” I lie. I’m not about to tell her what she really is to me. “And I wouldn’t say I like her. I tolerate her, more or less.”
Scarlet gives me a look, the kind that says: I know more than you think. “You don’t have to lie to me, brother. I know you like her.”
I almost laugh. If Scarlet knew the things I’ve done to Aspen, she would change her mind. “You think I like her?”
Scarlet nods her head, a smile on her lips. “Yes, and I think she likes you too. I don’t know why you and Matteo didn’t just switch dates. Neither of you seemed happy with your selections.” Sometimes, I forget how intuitive she is to her surroundings.
“Even if I wanted to, I can’t like her. Aspen is Clyde Mather’s daughter. The same guy who snitched on Dad and caused our house to be raided,” I explain.
“Oh.” Scarlet’s smile falters, and sadness flickers through her eyes as she remembers that day.
A spark of curiosity ignites in my brain. “You wouldn’t be mad if I liked Aspen?”
“What happened wasn’t her fault, and I can’t blame her for something her parents did.” She looks away for a long moment, and sadness creeps onto her face. I toss my jacket onto the desk and cross the room, ready to console her, when she lifts a hand and looks back at me.
“What is it?”
“It’s just, I haven’t seen you interested in anything as much as it seems you’re interested in her, not since Adela’s death.”
Suddenly, the air feels heavier, and every breath I take is weighted. “What she and I share. It’s not like that…”
“No, stop. I’m happy to see you like this, and believe it or not, I like her too. She’s sweet and pretty.” A smile lights up her face once more, and my heart starts to beat normally again. Scarlet is all I have left, and to hurt her in any way would wound me beyond repair.
“I’m glad you like her, and I agree, she’s very pretty.” I smile.
Scarlet’s smile becomes a fully-fledged grin. “I knew you liked her. You can’t lie to me, Q. I know you better than you think!” She punches the air with her fist like she won some unknown victory, and I roll my eyes, gathering up my pajamas for bed.
“Sure, you do. When I get back in here, you better be ready to go to sleep.”
“What are you talking about? I was already sleeping, but then you came in and rudely woke me up.”
“Right, sure you were, with snakes for legs.”
“Shut up!” She laughs and tosses a pillow at me.
These are the things I miss. I need these moments because without them, without the little glimpses of light, I’m afraid I might be eaten by the darkness that continually grows like a cancer that can’t be beat. Aspen helps keep the monsters at bay, but what happens when that’s not enough? What happens when the need for control overpowers me? I don’t allow myself to dwell on the thought longer, not when it hits me that if Scarlet realized I showed an interest in Aspen, then our parents definitely did as well.