The Boys Down South by Abbi Glines

29

scarlet

God! What had I been thinking? Saying something that private, that close to the truth, aloud? No one needed to know those things. It would lead to more questions. With answers I would never give. He was too close. Having him with me was… amazing. It made my safe, little trailer perfect. It didn’t smell of mildew with Bray inside of it. The scent of mint and leather now filled it. Bray made things brighter.

Allowing myself to want this led me right back down a path with no hope.

“You going to be silent the entire ten-minute drive to the diner?” he asked, breaking the silence.

I couldn’t look at him. I knew he wanted me to. I just couldn’t. I’d opened up. Said too much.

“Scar, what’s wrong?”

Sighing, I continued to look out the window on the passenger side. “Nothing. I am just trying to figure things out in my head.”

“What things?”

“Explaining to you that I want the life I have here. I’m happy. Content. I wasn’t there.” Maybe happy was going overboard. But saying secure. Free of the… the dirty, ugly world I’d lived in. The secrets, the mask I wore daily to cover my reality. That was behind me. No amount of counseling that doctors put me in had felt this free. Besides, if I’d told a psychiatrist my real issues, I’d have been thrown in the system really damn fast. Away from Dixie. And back then, I needed Dixie. She was my means of survival.

“You were unhappy back home?” he asked for clarification.

I nodded but said no more. I was done with this topic. He sensed it and the rest of the trip we didn’t speak. When he parked in front of the diner, I grabbed the handle to bolt out, expecting him to grab my arm and ask me more. Say something. But it wasn’t until I was halfway to the back door that it dawned on me, he wasn’t chasing me. He wasn’t calling my name.

He was driving away.

I stopped. Turned to look as his truck pulling out onto the main road. Not leading to my trailer. But back north. Back to his home. My shoulders slumped. My throat clogged. It was what I knew had to happen, but it’d been so damn easy for him to do it.

“You coming in to help or stand out here and contemplate the day?” Diesel asked, and I jerked my head around to see him tossing a bag of garbage into the dumpster.

“Shut up,” I snapped. Back to being angry with him.

“And she’s back. Crabby just like I like it,” he said with sarcasm.

I stalked past him and into the kitchen.

“He’s not worth it. If he didn’t stay and beg you then he should drive off.”

I wanted to yell at him some more. He thought this was simple. That I was some shallow girl wanting attention from a bad boy. That it was about love and happily-ever-after. The idea made me furious. I hated him judging me by others’ actions. Because I wished I were like others. I wished I didn’t have this fucked-up head and insecurities and fears. I wished I hadn’t seen the monsters and ugliness at such a young age.

And I wished my mother had stopped him. The first one. The ones after that. I wished she’d been the loving mother that protected her child. Or just a human with compassion. That would have helped me too.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, in a low but firm voice, as I glared at him.

“Then enlighten me,” he shot back.

I began to laugh. Not the kind that came from amusement. But the kind that came from demented, cruel pain. He’d been in prison for a few months. I’d lived in prison for years. My safe childhood had been anything but; it had been a world of fear, of filth, and a terror that only came when another man came into my room and called me “princess.” A man my mother allowed in there.

“No! I will not fucking enlighten you!” I yelled at him. “Stop trying to be my friend. Stop asking questions and giving advice. Because you have no idea!” His eyes were wide. The place was silent. There should be some noise.

The others… Netty, Ethel, they were listening to me yell. How could they not? I was screaming. My heart was slamming against my chest. Emotions churning inside me. I yelled at him like he’d wronged me. When he had done nothing but try and be my friend. How was he to know that my life was a crock pot of shit?

I didn’t look at any of them, although I felt their eyes on me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, not just to Diesel but to Netty and my boss. Then I walked back to the door I had just walked out of. It closed firmly behind me. My car was where I had left it last night. My keys in the purse on my arm. I reached inside and found them. I liked this job. I liked the people here. But I’d just yelled and cursed out Ethel’s nephew like the crazy person I was. I’d shown them my unstable character. The girl I had hidden so well for years. It was bound to happen. My snapping. Mentally combusting. Was this it? My turning point into looney land?

“Scarlet!” Ethel’s voice called out loudly. I didn’t want to look at her. Listen to her. But I owed her. She’d given me a job when I needed one. Trusted a girl with no references or former jobs. With a deep inhale, I tried to steady myself for whatever dressing down I was about to get. Then I turned to face her.

She was stalking out toward me. A serious expression on her face. It wasn’t exactly a scowl, but it was determined. I didn’t want Ethel to hate me. She’d been nice to me. Kind. They all had. Little did they know, I was a ticking time bomb.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’ve got the breakfast crowd gonna be here in a few minutes. God knows that boy can’t handle this alone.”

I had expected her to yell at me, to scold me, to tell me to take myself on and not come back. Never had I even for a brief moment thought she’d come out here to tell me to get back inside. Had she not seen me acting like a lunatic?

“You don’t want me to go?” I asked, making sure I understood her correctly. Maybe she wanted me to finish my shift then get out.

“Because you yelled at the boy? I’m not sure why or what he said, but sometimes a woman has a reason to yell at a man. It happens. They can say stupid shit. Now, come on. Ain’t got much time,” She said, waving her arm toward her and the diner.

I still had a job.

I would think about Bray later. Tonight. When I was alone.

I could yell and scream in my camper. But not here. And not at Diesel. He’d done nothing but be nosey. How was he to know my past?