Adapt (I)

TJR Garcia © 2020

BOE

I take a deep breath. The moisture in the air seeps into my lungs and drenches my senses with the feeling of rain.

You know how they say deep breaths can calm the nerves? I beg to differ. Deep breaths allow for hesitation. Which is what I am doing right now. I feel my feet try to inch back, away from the front door of the first girl I have ever actually fallen for. It seems completely unreasonable, after everything that she said to me, to be here attempting to salvage our relationship. But something about the way that she fought, to prevent getting hurt, just makes me want to know her better. Her spirit, even in the face of something that any teenage girl should have crumpled under, makes me want her that much more.

Does that mean what she said last night didn’t hurt? No. Her words had left hornet stings on both my pride and my heart.

Yet, for some reason, when I lay down in my uncomfortable hotel bed thinking about the night, I didn’t feel anything but regret and sympathy. Whatever has happened to Scarlet in her past has left her unwilling to trust. Over the last week I think I may have built something that resembles trust in Scarlet’s mind.

I broke that trust last night.

I run my hand through my hair and turn away, ready to walk back down the porch steps.

Then a sound rings in my ear from a memory. Her laugh when I told her I needed to go shopping. The sound came from deep inside, so pure that it somehow erased my distain at the fact that her joy was at my expense. It was a low sound, not particularly musical or practiced. It was just a sound that, somehow, brought light into the room.

I turn back to the door, renewed determination sparking.

‘You had your chance to make me believe that you were capable of normal emotion.’

Maybe she is right. Maybe I am not capable of normal emotions. I had never really been able to feel the same way as all the hunters at the academy. I had always just put it down to being weird-the loner; the guy that was happier spending his free time in the training room repeating the same actions over and over whilst his classmates were in the rec yard playing football.

Maybe something is wrong with me, because even as I am lurking on her front porch, wondering if I should knock or just leave her alone, I am still half in the land of dreams and hope. I imagine a world where Scarlet and I go on dates, and I pick her up from her house with a pizza sitting on the passenger side seat.

It will never happen. Ever. I get that.

But still…

I hear footsteps in the house, and I realize that I either have to knock, or I have to sneak away so as not to be caught.

I decide for the earlier.

I knock, and immediately I hear footsteps approaching the door. I can hear my heart getting louder with each step.

The door cracks open and Phoenix’s nose wiggles through, sniffing intently at me. He gives one full bark before Scarlet is in view.

I breathe in her image. Her dark chocolate hair is pulled back into a ponytail, stray baby hairs framing her face. She is in a pair of grey sweats and light blue hooded shirt, something I had seen her train in before. Her lips are pulled up softly at the corners, highlighting the very small imbalance her slightly fuller bottom lip created. Her eyes lock with mine and I am struck just as I was the first time I had seen her. Her eyes remind me of amber, the way it distorts light: espresso coloured on the outer ring, fading to honey in the middle.

I swallow down my heart. After agonizing yesterday about whether to leave town, and finally deciding to stay, I am instantly pleased with my decision.

For about two seconds.

She answered the door with a soft smile, which is dropping now that she sees me. “Oh.” She says, as if the painted disappointment on her face wasn’t enough. And her eyes are locked on me it a way that conveys all the anger she feels toward me. Even though it is not the expression I prefer to see her wear, I almost breathe a sigh of relief, because I know that that anger is merely residual. I have seen her in the heat of anger before, and this isn’t it.

I clear my throat. “Can I come in?”

She raises her eye brows. “No.”

Her one syllable reply carries more tone than what a book could explain. A ball forms in my gut.

I swallow. “Scarlet, look, I’m sorry.”

She folds her arms. “What for?”

“For...” stammering. Yes, that will help things. “For kissing you.”

She shrugs. “Why? You were drunk, let’s just move on.”

“I wasn’t drunk, I was-”

“Boe, shut up!” She holds up her hand. “Look, I get it. Guys are guys. Can we just pretend like it didn’t happen?”

My first reaction is to tell her ‘Hell no’. Our first kiss and she wants to forget about it?! The blow hits me so hard that I nearly lose my balance. How could she just dismiss me like that? Didn’t I deserve more than being swept under the rug?

Then I realize what she is offering me-an olive branch: a chance to win her trust back and maybe - just maybe - a chance to complete the mission.

And for the sake of the mission, I am not going to let this opportunity go to waste.

“Fine.” I say in a soft tone.

“Just do me a favour, though.”

“Anything.” I say, without even thinking.

“Just go back to being annoying Boe, the one that is easy to despise. It makes things easier.”

I look from Scarlet, down to Phoenix, and back. Being a hard-ass is going to be difficult with my new found feelings, but I think I can muster it for her. So, I set my jaw and give a tight nod. “Done.”