I enter the name Scarlett Crosby in my Instagram search. I haven’t thought about her in a long time, but I’ve somehow brought her up to my best friend and Poppy in a matter of a week. That has to mean something. I’m still messed up over what happened with her, clearly.
When I check out her pictures, she actually looks really happy. There are all kinds of pics of her posing in different places and there is a guy in some of them too. I click on messages and send her a hi. I wait a second and what the fuck am I doing? Probably opening up a can of worms that doesn’t need to be opened.
I go to delete the message but it’s too late. The bubbles are rolling.
Scarlet: Hi, Declan. This is a blast from the past.
I wait and stare at the screen. Do I answer her? It would be douchey of me not to considering I’m the one that messaged her.
Me: Hi, Scarlet. How are you?
I press send but then feel weird about my response. After she overdosed, she didn’t speak to me again. Her friends kept me away saying she was in a bad place and me being there wasn’t helping. I felt responsible, so I stayed away.
Scarlet: Really good. You?
Me: I’m good.
Scarlet: Is everything okay, Declan?
I stare at my phone. That’s a weird question for her to be asking me, considering how things ended. Maybe that’s the problem though, there was no closure.
My phone rings. Scarlet’s name comes up on the screen. Holy shit. Why is she calling me? I fling up to a seated position and swing my legs off the bed.
This is what I get for not changing my phone or phone number since high school.
“Hello,” I answer the phone, feeling the shake in my voice.
“I can’t believe you still have the same number,” Scarlet giggles. “When I tried it, I didn’t actually think it would work.”
“Yup, it’s still working,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut.
“So how are you?” she asks. “Probably killing it at college hockey.”
“Yeah, this is my last year playing for the Westfall Dragons. Hoping to make it to the NHL next year,” I say and that is way too much of unnecessary information. I need to tone it down.
“Cool. I always figured you’d make it big,” she says.
“A-and how are you?” I ask.
“You sound really freaked out. Why is that?” she asks. Then she mumbles something and “look, about how things ended. . .”
“You don’t need to explain,” I jump in.
“Maybe I do,” she says.
“You were in a bad place, Scarlet, and I should’ve seen it better than I did.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking though, Declan,” she says, throwing me off. How does she know what I’m thinking?
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I reply honestly.
“I was really into you in high school. That much was obvious, but a part of it was that my home situation was falling apart and being with you made me feel good. It made me forget,” she explains.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask.
She chuckles. “Because I was a seventeen-year-old idiot. I didn’t know what to make of my problems. I sure as hell didn’t know how to deal with them.” She pauses, and I hear her take a deep breath. “Look, my dad left us high and dry and my mom was falling apart, and I know you told me you were going to leave from the beginning, but after my dad left, I didn’t want to deal with anyone else walking out on me. It wasn’t you though. My head was messed up. After that night I. . . you know. . .” She’s clearly referring to herself overdosing at the party.
“Yeah,” I say quietly.
“I got help. I had a hard time trusting people and it just felt like everyone I cared about would eventually leave, but that isn’t true. I’m really happy now. I have a boyfriend I really love and we’ve been together three years. He recently proposed but we’re waiting for after graduation to tie the knot,” she says, and she sounds really content.
“I’m happy for you, Scar. Seriously. I’m really happy for you.”
“Thanks. How are you doing? Anyone special in your life?” she asks.
This is such a strange conversation to be having with an ex, but it’s cathartic too.
“Not really,” I say, which is a total lie. I feel bad about my fib because I’ve gotten so used to lying, I can’t tell the truth anymore it seems. This has to stop. “There is actually a girl but. . . I’m gonna draft by June.”
“Mhmm,” she says. “And I’m guessing you can’t get serious with her because you’re going to draft?”
“I don’t know where I’ll end up. It could be across the country or even Canada,” I explain.
“And what does your girl think of that?” she asks.
“I didn’t ask her,” I say like it’s obvious. “There’s no point in getting serious if I’m gonna leave.”
“Do you like this girl? I mean really like her?” she asks.
“Yeah, I mean, she doesn’t let me shut down and keep to myself and I find myself telling her things I’ve never told anyone,” I disclose.
“She sounds special,” Scarlet says.
I picture Poppy and her blue-green eyes and auburn hair. I picture Poppy watching me intently. Listening to me. I picture Poppy writhing under me as she comes from my touch and my mind and heart somehow collide with a recognition I didn’t have before.
“She’s special,” I admit exhaling.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t walk away from her. You know not everyone leaves. I know your dad left and my dad left but there are people who stay, people who care. You just need to give them a chance. I know where you’re coming from. When Justin, he’s my fiancé, when we first got together I was terrified of falling for him, but he was patient and caring. He understands me in a way no one else ever has and it’s really a good feeling, and it helps with the loneliness too.”
Her words have my world spinning.
“I’ve always felt so guilty for misleading you. I felt responsible for everything that happened that. . . you know. . . that night,” I confess.
“Oh, Declan, I’m sorry I put you through that. My life was a mess and I lost myself. I was drowning but it wasn’t your fault. I had to find my strength and falling apart like that allowed me to build myself back up into a stronger version of myself. Does that make sense?” she asks.
“It makes a whole lot of sense and I’m seriously happy for you, Scarlet.”
“Good luck with your next chapter,” she says.
“You too.”
We say our goodbyes and end the call. I sit on the edge of my bed staring down at the worn carpet. Scarlet is doing well. I didn’t screw up her life. What she said hit home. Growing up without a dad was hard. My mom was a mess. There was no guidance from anyone. Mistakes were made because that’s how I learned. I’ve been living all this time with guilt, but maybe I was projecting just like Scarlet. She said she was upset her family fell apart and projected that on me, even though we were just kids. Truth is, I don’t trust in relationships because until I came to Westfall, I never saw one that worked. Dad left and Mom’s revolving door of men was not helpful at all. Some of them were serious douchebags too. One of them smacked me and Logan around. Some of them smacked my mom around. I was too young to do anything about it. I felt helpless. The conversation with Scarlet is on repeat in my head for a good hour. In between, I think of Poppy. She really is something, but I feel torn. Ryse would never accept us being together. He knows I’m leaving too, and he’d want someone better for his sister. Yet, there’s no way I can stop seeing her.