Scarlett White (9 page)

She had always planned to get Tristan back somehow for doing what he had done so many years ago, but she was too nice. She couldn't destroy him like he had destroyed her. If only Tristan had had the smarts to shut his loud mouth, her life could have stayed at least a little normal at school, but, of course, Tristan couldn't keep his large trap shut to save his own pitiful life. If only he had kept the crucial information to himself, Scarlett could have suffered in silence about the death of her parents…

She couldn't think about it; no, not now...not ever. She didn't want to bring back the memories of the pale, cold, still corpses of her father and stepmother. Damn, too late. Finally the bell finally rang, signaling the end of school, and Scarlett hurriedly packed her things and ran out the door and to her locker.

"Hey, Scar." Kate came up behind her, causing her to drop the papers she had been stuffing rather roughly into her locker.

"Holy crap, Kate, you scared the hell out of me," Scarlett said, bending down to retrieve her fallen essays. Kate went down to help too.

While they were kneeling on the ground, gathering scattered papers, Kate asked, "Why did I startle you? You know, you've been very finicky lately."

"Yeah, well, I thought you were someone else," Scarlett said, not looking up to meet Kate's inquisitive expression.

"Is it—?"

"Yes, it's him. He won't get out of my head!"

"Maybe you should just forgive him. You know he didn't think it would ruin your—"

"I don't want to talk about it right now, Kate. As for forgiving him, that possibility entered my brain about one thousand times. And do you know what the final resolution came to be each time? Not in a million centuries."

"Okay, it's your decision. Did you see the way he was looking at you the entire time during lab? And then when you started crying...sorry, I mean when your allergies kicked in, did you see his face? That poor boy—"

"Yeah, he's such a poor boy when
he
ruined
my
po—"

"Hey, Scar! Kate!" Ginny and Meghan walked up behind Scarlett and Kate. All four of them walked out the school building together, talking about the movie they were planning to see that weekend.

"...and I heard that you are supposed to jump in your seat about every ten seconds. Won't that be fabulous?" Ginny was saying.

"Wait...what are we going to see?" Kate asked.

"Drag Me to Hell. And I bet I know what happens in the end..." Ginny answered.

"Lemme guess, the main character gets lifted up into Heaven surrounded by hundreds of humming angels. Am I right?" Meghan said.

"One hundred percent correct!"

"Okay, well, see you guys tomorrow," Kate said, breaking out of the group to get into her car.

"Yeah, see ya." Meghan was in her car too.

"Um...Ginny, we're at your car now," Scarlett said, completely stopped in front of a beat up Chevy.

"Oh, okay, right," Ginny said, turning her gaze back on Scarlett. "Oh, and by the way: have fun."

"Wait, what?" Scarlett was left dumbfounded.

"Hey," a male voice said behind Scarlett. Before she turned around to see who it was, Scarlett glanced at the rearview mirror in Ginny's car and saw a wide smile on Ginny's lips.

Scarlett turned around to see Francis Rogers, the senior who worked at Charles' hospital. Oh, no.

"Uh...what are you doing here, Frankie?" Scarlett asked, not trying to hide the quizzical expression that clearly showed on her face. "If it has something to do with Charles, you could have just called me on my cell phone. I mean, I'm pretty sure the hospital has my number on the board because I thought that I gave it to them four years ago when Charles was first admitted. I think that David was the one I gave it to, but if I'm wrong, hey, it's been four years. I can give it again if you need it—" Scarlett was rambling and she knew it. She always started blabbing when she got nervous.

"No, I don't need your number. I have it already," Francis said with a dazzling smile on his lips.

"Then…what's up?" Scarlett asked quizzically again. She turned slightly and started walking to her car, hoping that Francis would give a quick explanation and be done with it.

But Francis had other ideas; he swiftly grabbed her hand before she could leave. Spinning her back around to face him, he said, "I was actually wondering what you are doing tomorrow."

Oh, no. Scarlett caught her breath, "Wait...are you—?"

"—asking you out…again? Yes. And I don't give up easily," Francis warned.

"So I can tell," Scarlett said, trying not to hyperventilating, but she caught herself to ask him. "Why are you so interested?" It didn't come out harshly or anything; she merely asked it in a curious voice.

"I don't know why you haven't noticed yet, but you're hot…especially on laundry days," Francis said, flashing Scarlett his dazzling smile.

Scarlett smiled and did what she always did when she was nervous or flattered: she began playing with her hair. Her eyes slid down to look at his outfit. He wasn't dressed in his usual scrubs like he always was at the hospital. Instead today he was wearing a form-fitting T-shirt with a black, leather jacket. And his long legs were donned in designer jeans that were pre-ripped. Scarlett's eyes snapped back up to his face while blush embarrassingly crept up her cheeks from looking down for so long at his jeans and wondering how what was underneath them looked.

Scarlett mentally began to think over the pros and cons. Pros: Francis was a senior. Francis was hot. Francis had never been mean to her. Francis was almost nineteen years old, and Scarlett knew he was smart because of the certificates he had from his classes, so he showed some sign of intellect. Francis had complimented her plenty of times. Francis was a successful intern at the hospital that she visited every weekend. Cons: ... Scarlett's mind came up blank, and that didn't happen often.

"Well, I have to study—"

"No, you don't," Francis said with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Scarlett smiled and blinked bashfully up at Francis, "Then I'm free anytime."

"All right, tomorrow after school then, do you need a ride home?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at a rather spectacular motorcycle.

"Sure." Scarlett didn't miss a heart beat, "Wait...How will I get to school in the morning, my car is...?" She looked ahead, indicating her hand-me-down car.

"I'll pick you up at seven and drive you back."

Scarlett was amazed by her lucky turn of fortune. She knew that she had freaked on Francis on Friday, but it had been so unexpected, and she hadn't been ready for a relationship on such short notice. But now she was ready to take a chance. She still couldn't believe that this morning she had been completely late for school...again and had to briefly put her hair in a sloppy ponytail—and she hated anything that could be described as 'sloppy'. Now, she was going to ride a motorcycle with a senior honors intern at a hospital.

Francis and Scarlett began walking over to his bike. As they got closer, and the bike got bigger, Scarlett began to rethink things. She was always up for adventure, but she wasn't quite up for a slim mistake and...
CRASH!

Francis noticed the falter in her step and the expression of worry she wore.

"Have you ever ridden one of these?" he asked her.
She really is cute when she's scared,
Francis thought.

Scarlett merely shook her head, still looking at the rather large bike uncertainly.

"Well, don't worry; you're safe with me." Francis handed her his spare helmet and straddled the massive bike. "Well, come on now, hop on."

Scarlett straddled the bike behind Francis and wrapped her arms firmly around his back, clasping her fingers together at his ripped stomach. She gently laid her head against Francis' back. Her heartbeat was already going about one hundred miles per hour, and the bike was only going zero.

Francis cranked the bike and sped out of the parking lot. As soon as the wind began blowing hard against Scarlett's hair, she didn't feel scared anymore. She felt rather free. And she realized she was going to enjoy the new relationship with Francis Rogers.

The final bell rang, and Tristan saw Scarlet scuttle out of the classroom as fast as her feet could carry her, which was pretty fast. He had no hope of extracting further information about their past from her. He had football practice, and she probably had a paper to write that was due next year.

Tristan sulked into the locker room alongside the rest of his varsity football team.

"Hey, Tris, what's got you down?" Kyle asked, taking in his grim expression.

"Nothing," Tristan mumbled.

"Awesome,"
boy, are my friends stupid?
"So, for football practice today, can we...?"
Football, football, football...is that really all you talk about, Kyle?

Tristan just nodded his head, not really paying any attention to his clueless friend. Sometimes he wished that his friends really knew him. Tristan wasn't the actual Golden Boy that everyone thought he was. He didn't only care about football and popularity, though he did thoroughly enjoy the latter of the two. But still, Tristan cared also about his grades and his family and his videogames and a lot of other things that most of the students at Watson High probably didn't even know existed; for two examples: bonding with siblings and caring about people besides just you. Tristan wasn't as selfish as everybody thought he was. And by everybody, he mainly meant Scarlett. He didn't know why she thought he was so self-absorbed. What right did she have to think anything bad of him?

And then he tuned back into Kyle's conversation with no one because Tristan obviously wasn't paying attention. Tristan realized that Kyle was still talking about football and tuned back out of what his best friend was saying. For some odd reason, he was losing more and more interest in sports and gaining more and more interest in...

No, no, no!
Tristan's brain screamed at him,
you love sports, you love friends, you love popularity, and you love your life just as it is!
She's
just some girl who caught your interest for a tincey wincey second. Now snap out of it and get back to your normal life that revolves around football and only football. Think of nothing else; think of
nobody
else. Only football. You need that scholarship. Football. Football. Football. Stop thinking about
her.

I guess you're right. Just some girl. Just some girl. Just some girl.

He repeated those three, simple words over and over again in his head trying to make them come true. Why did his mind keep wandering back to Scarlett? Why couldn't he stop thinking about her? He didn't even think about Alice this much, and she was the most popular girl in school.

"Dude, are you okay?" Kyle asked as they began changing into their sweats for practice.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just stressed," Tristan said distractedly.

"About what?" Kyle asked, prying into Tristan's personal business. Ugh, Tristan really didn't want to answer him, but felt obligated to since Kyle was his best friend.

"Our next game," Tristan lied, naming the first thing that popped into his head.