BLUE
Scar hasn’t spoken a single word to me since picking her up from the diner. Not even about all the X drama, which she would’ve loved to chat about. If her silence on that issue hadn’t already let me know she’s pissed about earlier, the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut would’ve made it obvious.
I have every intention to try and clear the air between us, but first, I have a gun to hide. Standing at the opening of my closet, I look around, deciding to shove the box from Tommy under a pile of hoodies in the far right corner. Then, after moving a few things around to conceal it completely, I head to Scar’s room. Surprisingly, she hasn’t locked me out.
“Ok, just say whatever you need to say so we can eat dinner and not have our entire night ruined.”
Apparently, just the sound of my voice has earned me the death stare, but I don’t care. This is how we handle things. We talk them out.
“What difference does it make whether I say something or not? Because you’ll say absolutely nothing in return,” she scoffs, dropping down onto her bed after pulling her dark hair into a ponytail.
I should’ve felt that coming. My gaze lowers to the carpet and I still have no clue how to navigate these waters—tell her enough so she knows to be more mindful of her surroundings, but not so much that she’s overly paranoid.
Like me.
“There’s just stuff going on that—”
“That I don’t understand,” she cuts in with an eye roll. “So you keep saying. But honestly, from the outside looking in, you just look like a crazy person who’s becoming even more overbearing than you already were.”
Her words cut deep. Yes, I’m completely aware of my tendency to smother her, but how could she not know it’s because I love her? How could she not know I’m desperate to keep her safe because if something happened to her it would literally kill me?
“I’m gonna let that slide, because I know you’re confused and upset right now, but—”
“How long has it just been us?” she asks. “Most people would say since Mike left, but you and I know it’s been much longer than that. Even before mom took off and Hunter got arrested, we were all each other had.”
Listening to her, looking into her eyes, my heart’s in my throat because she isn’t wrong.
“A long time,” I answer.
“So, if there’s anyone in this world I should be able to trust, it’s you, right?” she reasons. “Then, why doesn’t that go both ways? And don’t tell me it does, because if that were true, you wouldn’t be hiding… whatever this is from me right now.”
She stands and takes a step to storm off again, but I have her arm before she can leave the room.
“You’re fourteen, Scar.”
“Fifteen,” she argues, “which means I’m not a baby. Which means I won’t fall apart if you tell me the truth for once.”
There’s a knot in my stomach that only grows the longer this conversation continues. Shielding her has been, by far, the most exhausting job I’ve ever had, but it’s been worth it. I don’t know, though. Maybe she’s right. She’s growing up and maybe it’s time I let her handle knowing things.
But then, as soon as this thought comes to me, I’m aware of how badly I wished there had been someone to protect my innocence. Someone who felt I was too young to see the things I’ve seen, experience the things I’ve experienced.
“All I can say is that you’re not crazy,” I admit. “Things are going on that you don’t know about, but I’m handling it.”
Handling it—I use that term very loosely.
That death stare is locked on me again and I feel her growing frustration as it expands throughout the room, like it’s alive.
“Either tell me what the hell is happening, or… at least get better at pretending everything’s okay before I lose my mind,” she snaps, sounding like the lump in her throat is all that’s keeping her from crying.
“Scar, I am doing… the absolute best I can,” I choke out, feeling my own emotions getting the best of me. To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away when I bring her into an embrace.
“You’re all I have, and if you’re not okay, I’m not okay,” she admits. The tears have broken free now and I draw her closer.
Something has to give. But seeing as how I can’t snap my fingers and have this whole thing go away, the only factor I have the power to change is myself. So, if that means taking on more to keep things as normal as I can for Scar, then that’s what I’ll do.
She leans away and I push wetness from her cheek with my hand, deciding that my new mission is to do what I can to give my sister more… normalcy. She’s craving that, and if normalcy is the alternative to shredding her world with the truth, then I’ll give her that.
Come hell or high water.
@QweenPandora: Ok, last one for the night.
Let’s spin the wheel-of-doom and see whose fate I’ll seal this time.
Lookie, lookie. I do believe this one will ruffle a few feathers. It seems everyone’s favorite councilman isn’t quite the standup guy he’d have us all believe.
Yup, you guessed it. The man formerly known as Judge Francois—which most of us still call him out of habit—has a hidden side. If these pics of him leaving a hotel outside the city (with a scantily clad woman, no less) are any indication, I’m guessing he’s got some explaining to do.
Boo-hoo, VirginVixen. Here you are, saving yourself for “the one”, while Poppa Francois is slinging dick to anything in a skirt.
Come on, people. You have to see the irony in this, right?
At any rate, this one’s gonna sting a bit. Guess PrettyBoyD had better break out the Kleenex. Or might I suggest a pack of condoms instead?
Pro tip: Sad girls are an easy lay, kid. Take advantage while you can and show VV what she’s been missing!
Later, assholes.
—X
