Friday: Late Afternoon

"Learn to drive, bitch!" Scarlet Hawkins yelled, honked, and swerved. She headed north, toward Diesel's house. He had called her half an hour earlier saying he needed her; his aunt and cousin had arrived, and he felt uncomfortable. Ever since Diesel's mom died, he had been a total wreck, falling back into his old self, except with escalated weirdness.

Before they'd started going out, Scarlet had known Diesel by reputation. He was mysterious and was said to have had extreme O.C.D. The multitude of girls he dated didn't seem to mind; he was smolderingly sexy. He was a year ahead of Scarlet in school, and even though they had noticed each other since junior high, the subtle flirtations didn't start until high school. Then it became a game of who could ignore the other more. Until his senior year and her junior year when they ended up at the same Halloween party. He pretended he thought she was his date, like he couldn't tell the difference with her dressed up as Catwoman, and she let him.

After they had been dating for a couple of months, some of the things Scarlet had found intriguing in the beginning became annoying, and sometimes even embarrassing, around her friends, especially when Diesel recited weird rhymes. It had taken her a little while, but she thought she had finally deprogrammed him, released him from the stupid little superstitious notions his witch-mother and strange grandma had stuck in his head.

Now he blamed himself for his mom dying, as if it were his fault, and even thought his granny blamed him, too. Ridiculous. She did feel bad that his mom had died, but all the late night calls and pity parties had begun to get on her nerves. She knew she had to get him away from that house, away from his granny, before she lost him completely to the gloomy side. Hopefully the arrival of his aunt and cousin wouldn't make matters worse—but it could, especially if they acted like the rest of Diesel's family. "Crap, I gotta stop this," she said, turning up the radio to tune out her thoughts so she wouldn't be completely pissed-off by the time she got there.


Scarlet wrapped her red scarf over her face to ward against the cold wind as she walked up to the house. Without knocking, she went inside to look for Diesel. Instead, she found a guy, she figured the cousin, sitting on the couch writing in a notebook.

"Hey there," she said. "Where's Diesel?"

When he stood up, she saw he was as tall as Diesel, but not as built, and had pretty, ice-blue eyes. He wore nothing-special jeans, a white t-shirt under a brown jacket, and black Converse shoes. His dark hair was shorter in the back than in front—modern, layered, clean cut—a huge contrast to his five o'clock shadow. Nevertheless, she didn't have a problem sizing him up: cute, smart, trainable.

"I don't know," he said. "I haven't seen him in a few minutes."
His mouth didn't gap open, which was the way most boys responded to her. She took her time removing her coat and then swooshed her long hair behind her, so he had a clear shot of her body. He took in the scenery, careful not to linger. Definitely straight, she thought. But taken.

She asked, "Is he in the kitchen? I smell food."

"That's just my mom. I can go look for—"

"I'll find him. By the way," she said over her shoulder as she left the room, "I'm Scarlet, Diesel's woman."

She went upstairs and poked her head in Diesel's room. Empty. I know where he is. She made her way back downstairs and through the living room, not glancing at the cousin on the couch, then through the French doors to the patio. She spotted Diesel straight back, half an acre away, sitting on the ground beside the stream that ran down the hillside.

Not wanting to put her coat back on or walk that far in her high-heeled boots, she called out to him. He didn't turn around. "Peachy," she muttered to herself. Her only other choice was to go back in and make small talk with the boy from Texas, and she wasn't going to do that. She put her coat on and walked outside.

"You all right?" she asked Diesel as she approached.

He looked up at her, his arms folded in front of his chest, and his eyes rimmed in red.

"Why don't we go inside? It's freaking freezing out here."

"I should have paid attention to what she said instead of making fun of her." Diesel had turned away from her and spoke to the ground in front of him.

"You made fun of her because she was crazy. She was, and you know it."

"I turned my back on everything I'd believed in since I was born, and now she's dead."

Scarlet cringed. How many times had they been over that in the last couple of days? Keep your cool. "Not your fault. She had a heart attack. A heart attack. You didn't cause that."

"I was so mad at her," he said, his voice barely audible.

"Would you listen to yourself? That didn't kill her. My mom would've died years ago if you could kill a person by being ticked at them. Do you hear me? All this stuff they put in your head is nonsense. She was a crazy lady who made you think—"

"Shut up." He stood up slowly.

"No, Diesel, you have got to snap out of this. This self-destructive mind-set is not doing us any good. If you ask me, you're better off."

"Shut up!" he yelled and grabbed her arms. His eyes shifted, angry and helpless at the same time. "Don't ever speak ill of the dead," he whispered through his teeth. "Especially my mom."

Scarlet swallowed, unbalanced by his anger, but she matched his stare.

His grip, which had been strong and tight, began to loosen as his eyes filled with tears. He let go of her, turning away. "You don't understand."

"I understand she played mind games to keep you in line, and now your Granny is doing it. People die, and that's that."

"Everything they told me is real," he whispered.

"No… it's not. The only thing that's real is that you're in mourning."

When he turned towards her, she inhaled and took a step back. Yet his words came out gently. "I found a letter addressed to me in her things."

"What did it say?"

Diesel's face twitched slightly, and his lips looked a cold shade of purple.

"Come on." She thought whatever it was could wait until they were warmly inside. She linked her arm in his and slowly walked him toward the house. "Why don't we get away for a little while?"

"I can't leave. The letter... I have to take care of Granny."

She felt anger building up inside her. She wanted to shake him to make him wake up and see how stupid he was acting. She clinched her teeth until they reached the back porch, until she had control of her words, until she could start her sentence without the word asshole. "You're in charge of all the money, right? Put her in a nursing home."

They heard the back door open, and a lady, who had a strong family resemblance—only without looking cuckoo—smiled at them. "Dinner's ready," she said and went back inside.

Scarlet said, "The aunt, I presume. I met the cousin earlier."

"Aiden," Diesel mumbled. "Seems like a fun guy."

One thing Scarlet could always count on from Diesel was his jealousy. "I think he's pretty cute," she said as she walked ahead of him and inside the house. Perhaps she had found a little fuel to help flame his desire to leave.

To be continued...

Chapter 2 Part 2 will be posted November 26, 2010

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