Finding Scarlet

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Scarlet

"I'm eighteen today."

I look over and peer at Toby. He is staring at his hands, as if they are foreign to him and something he didn't recognize. He is wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, with faded blue vans that has clearly been worn to the point of falling a part. We sit silently on the swing sets, he probably processing his adulthood while there's me trying to figure out what to respond with.

"Congratulations." Is all I manage to say.

He lets out a quiet snort. "Thanks, I guess."

I nod curtly, and my eyes also lower to the ground.

"Hey," Toby suddenly inquires. "how old are you, do you think?"

"Hmm." I also study my hands. My fingers are long and slim, the nails short and covered with chipped black paint. A simple silver ring is on my right thumb and another one with a sparkly purple stone is on my left forefinger, with a small silver band sitting on top my second knuckle. I turn them over and inspect the lines in my palms, hoping that they would reveal something about me, like how fortunetellers can.

I clench my hands into a fist. "I don't know," I shrug. "age is just a number anyways."

"That's true," Toby agrees. "but, if I had to guess..." he tilts his head to the side, inspecting me thoughtfully. I don't like the way he's looking at me, but I don't say anything about it.

Finally, he sits straight and smiles. "You're seventeen and three-hundred-and-sixty-four days old."

I quirk an eyebrow at him. "Three-hundred-and-sixty-four?"

"Yeah," He says, shrugging a little. "might as well make it your birthday too."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't want to be the only one celebrating either." He says quietly, almost too softly for me to hear.

My lip twitches to one side, showing half a smile. "Sure."

Silence elapses between us again. But it isn't really awkward at all; it seems as if we live in the stillness, breathe it into our empty lungs and absorb it as if it is a source of strength. Everything tends to move too fast—too fast for us to process—and sometimes just standing still is all we really need to right ourselves again. That's what I like about Toby; he's not afraid of standing still.

"I have a proposition." Toby finally says.

"Oh, do tell."

He stands up, leaving me alone on the swing set. "Let's celebrate."

I stare at him. "Celebrate my non-existent birthday."

"Hey, you only turn eighteen once."

I almost laugh. "And how do you propose to do just that?"

"Well," he looks around the playground, searching for some inspiration, and then something catches his eye.

"Here," he extends his hand to me with a smile. "follow me."

I examine his hand closely. They look worn; a pink scar trails from the corner of his wrist to the start of his palm, and tiny calluses sit underneath the position of his fingers. As I slide my hand into his, his palm rough but in the most comforting way, they almost engulf my hand whole as he wraps his fingers around my slim ones. He tugs on my wrist and I stand, and follow him reluctantly towards the middle of the playground.

"So." Toby proclaims, pulling my hand closer to his person. "What better way to celebrate than to dance?"

"Dance." I restate. Something flares in my chest, and I don't particularly like the feel of it. "You want to dance. With no music."

"Well, yeah there's that." He twirls his fingers around mine into a different position. "That's where my lovely singing skills come into play."

He begins to hum a song, something melodic and soft. He twirls me under his arm and captures my waist with his free hand, slowly shifting pressure from each foot as he moves. Dancing wasn't really something I enjoyed, but for Toby, I tolerated it.

I rest my free hand on the curve of his shoulder, keeping a considerable amount of space between us as we move back and forth. But the more I dance, the more I get swallowed up in the song, and before I know it my eyes are closed and I'm moving forward to rest my head in the crevice between Toby's neck and collarbone, swaying softly.

"Happy birthday, Scarlet." He says softly in my hair.

"Happy birthday Toby."

We continue to sway around throughout Toby's song like that, but my mind is restless. It wont be long until Toby will disappear, and this time he may never come back.

I know I should be sad about such things, but I've come to the point where I can't form attachments to people anymore.

"What are you thinking about?" Toby asks softly, startling me from my thoughts.

I stare far past his shoulder. "Disappearing." Is all I can say.

There's a pause. "Nothing is going to happen to you."

"How do you know?" I ask accusingly, stepping away to look up into his eyes.

"'Cause I'm here."

"I don't need protecting," I say, almost defensively. "You said so yourself; I'm not real."

Toby stops dancing and looks down at me. "To me you are."