by Chloe Smith
"Hey, Scarlett."
"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny! I remember."
"You do?" Ginny asked, still uncertain.
"Yeah."
"How did you remember?"
"I'm not really sure. It sort of all just came back to me while I was waiting to board the second plane."
"So you remember Kate and Meg?" Ginny asked, her eyes brightening with excitement.
"Yep."
"And Tristan?"
Scarlett hesitated, "Well, not exactly. I mean, I remember a blonde headed boy, but that's it. I don't really remember anything else about him."
Ginny swallowed. "Well, that's okay. I mean, the progress you've made is great. C'mon, let's get you to my house," Ginny said as she picked up Scarlett's bag.
Chapter Twenty
As soon as the car had come to a complete stop at Ginny's house, Scarlett had a flashback of the many times she had been here. She felt as if she had simply woken up from a dream where everything had been new to her. And now she was in reality. Except, there was one thing missing. She could see the blonde haired boy, who looked an awfully lot like Christian, in her head. The boy was nameless in her mind, even though plenty of people had told her who he was. His name was Tristan, of course, but she simply couldn't remember why he was so significant.
The entire day Scarlett spent looking at photo albums Ginny had from her attic. She already knew everyone in these pictures. Then she looked at yearbooks. Again, she knew everyone in the pictures. She had gone to school with them, for crying out loud. Except for that boy who seemed to fade from her memory every time she thought about him. It was as if he had been in her dreams, and he was getting fuzzier and fuzzier every time she tried to think about him.
Ginny and Scarlett decided that they would go and visit Tristan, who was still in a coma, tomorrow morning. But right now they were curled up on Ginny's living room couch, covered in a blanket, with a large popcorn bowl seated between them as they watched a horror movie in the dark.
Scarlett vaguely remembered this movie. It was called 'A Nightmare on Elm Street.' She had a strange sense of déjà vu. Maybe she had watched this movie recently. She narrowed her eyes, thinking hard about when she had last seen this movie. Yes, yes, she had definitely seen it before. She remembered being in the dark. She remembered being in her room. She remembered a tapping on her window.
And then it all came to her.
She remembered hating Tristan since eighth grade for a false reason. She remembered being Tristan's lab partner. She remembered slipping up about visiting Charles. She remembered being hit in the head by a rock he had thrown through her window. She remembered finally confiding in him about her past. She remembered finding out she had been wrong about him, completely and utterly wrong about him; that he was a nice guy, not the incompetent jerk she had made him out to be. She remembered having a good time with him as they worked on their lab project together. She remembered how he had comforted her when Francis had practically cheated on her. And she remembered their first kiss on her couch.
And then she recalled always being on her guard around him, always thinking he was doing something to make fun of her or ruin her again, but in actuality, it had all been Alice. She recalled believing he was out to get her even when they had tried to go out. And she recalled the pain she felt when she realized she had to move and would be away from Tristan after spending such a small amount of time with him.
But what she realized that struck her the most was that she had fallen. The walls she had built up had crumbled. She had been completely exposed and vulnerable to his smoldering stare, contagious smile, and charming laughter. What she had hidden even from herself was that she had fallen for him. She didn't quite know how hard she had fallen, but she did know that she cared about him more than she had ever cared about anyone else in her entire life, even her father and Charles.
Scarlett gasped as all of this rained down on her.
"What?" Ginny asked, hiding completely under the covers. "What did Freddy do?"
"I remember him," Scarlett whispered.
"Well, of course, you remember Freddy, who wouldn't remember him?" Ginny asked skeptically. "He has knives for fingers; that's very memorable."
"No, not Freddy. Tristan."
Ginny dropped the blanket from around her face and looked directly into Scarlett's eyes. "You remember everything, then?" she asked, excited now.
Scarlett gulped in anticipation, "Yeah, I think so."
"So, you're you again?" Ginny asked, practically jumping in her seat.
"Yeah, I think so," Scarlett repeated with a large smile on her lips. "Let's go to the hospital," Scarlett said after a moment.
"Scar, it's eleven at night. The hospital visiting hours aren't until the morning," Ginny replied.
"Well, then, break my arm."
"What?"
"Break my arm," Scarlett repeated. "I want to see Tristan."
"Not tonight. Wait until the morning," Ginny tried to persuade her.
"No," Scarlett said determinedly, hoping off the couch and walking towards the front door.
"Wait, wait, wait. Scar, fine. We'll go tonight, but let's at least wait until my parents are asleep. We'll watch this movie and then get to the hospital," Ginny said.
Scarlett stopped and thought about it. "Fine," she said before slumping back to the couch to grudgingly watch the movie.
Ginny pulled her mother's minivan into a parking lot at the hospital before Scarlett jumped out of the car and rushed into the building.
"Cox, Tristan," she said breathlessly to the lady at the front desk.
"Visiting hours are from six a.m. to seven p.m.," the girl said in a monotone.
"Listen," Scarlett said, leaning closer to the girl. "If you don't tell me where Tristan Cox's room is, I'll take this pen and stab it into my eye. I'm not kidding."
"She's not exaggerating," Ginny said. "She doesn't have any sense of humor, so you better listen to her."
"Room 235," the girl said with big eyes when she saw how serious Scarlett was, but Scarlett could not care less about her.
Scarlett didn't have the patience to wait for the slow elevators; she wanted to see Tristan. She sprinted up the stairs and quickly found room 235. She took a deep breath and opened the door to the room where Tristan was lying, still unconscious. Scarlett vaguely wondered if Tristan would remember her. She was ashamed that she had forgotten him. How could she ever forget her Tristan? The boy who had taken her out of a boring, dragging life and invited her into the crowd she had always wanted to be in.
Scarlett was on the verge of hyperventilating. What if Tristan didn't remember her? What if he forgot her like last month's trash? What if he didn't even wake? What if she came in, and he lay unconscious. Unknowing.
Scarlett opened the door. She would soon find out if her fears were true. She was greeted with quiet beeping of the heart monitor. He looked exactly how she remembered though he was a bit paler and covered in bandages. His dark, heavy-coated lashes rested on his high cheek bones. His blonde hair fell over his eyebrows. His chest moved up and down slowly without missing a beat.
Scarlett grabbed his right hand and brought it up to her chest, right over her heart. His hand was the same temperature of an ice cube and it left goose bumps on Scarlett's skin. It pained her to see him in this state. All weak and helpless. It just wasn't right. And she was going to fix that...hopefully.
She didn't even notice when Ginny quietly entered the room behind her and stared silently at Scarlett and Tristan. Scarlett gulped. Why was she so nervous?
Looking down at Tristan's motionless form, Scarlett bent her head. She was now only centimeters from him. She hadn't realized she was crying until a single tear fell onto Tristan's cheek. She barely noticed that the heart monitor connected to Tristan had quickened.
And then Scarlett's lips touched Tristan's. At first, he was unresponsive. Scarlett's heartbeat became more rapid because she was worried he wouldn't wake up. She was scared that he would
n't remember her. She was nervous of what would happen if he did wake up. But then Scarlett felt the lips move beneath hers. Scarlett's heartbeat quickened even more, if that were possible. And she felt the hand that she wasn't holding rise on its own and intertwine its fingers into her curls, bringing her face closer to Tristan's.
More tears were coming now, but not tears of sadness, pain, or worry. These were tears of joy and happiness. Scarlett opened her eyes and saw that Tristan's eyes were slowly fluttering open as well. Tristan was awake. That was all that mattered. He was awake, and she was in his arms. Everything was going to be okay.
It's like a movie, Scarlett thought absently, a movie with a happy ending.
Finally Scarlett and Tristan separated for air.
"Tristan," she whispered, looking into his chocolate brown eyes. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Tristan slowly untangled his left hand from her hair—because his right hand was being held by Scarlett—and he captured a tear.
Scarlett's earlier fears hadn't left her quite yet. Tristan still hadn't spoken a word. Before Scarlett knew what she was doing, she was in his arms. Her head rested in the crook of his neck while she wept, and Tristan's arms formed a protective cage around her.
"I-I'm s-so sorry for leaving," Scarlett cried.
Tristan was stroking her hair. "Shh, now, it's all right."
Why was Tristan soothing her? He was the one who had just woken up from a coma.
"Scarlett, everything will be just fine."
He remembered her. Scarlett couldn't contain herself. She was instantly kissing every part of him she could reach. And Tristan was just as uncontainable as Scarlett was. He was kissing her hair, her forehead, her cheek, and finally her lips.
Their reunion was short-lived. Soon the room was inundated with nurses and doctors. Ginny was shooed out by the doctors, but Scarlett had refused to leave by threatening violent actions if they dare try to remove her. At last, the doctors said she could stay as long as she kept out of their way.
One nurse was on the phone with Tristan's mom, and she was on her way. Scarlett sat silently in a chair in the corner of the room, watching Tristan's face as they stuck an IV into his arm. She suppressed a chuckle when Tristan began to mutter profanities about the "damn nurses sticking shit in his arm."
When the nurses and doctors were done torturing Tristan, Scarlett carefully made her way back to Tristan's side. Scarlett knew Mrs. Cox was on her way, so she wouldn't have much alone time with him, but she was going to spend as many moments with him as she possibly could.
Scarlett sat gently on the bed next Tristan's legs. She had his hand back in hers and was absentmindedly caressing it with her thumb.
Tristan looked down at the intertwined hands. "You don't know how much I missed you," he finally whispered.
Scarlett gulped, remembering that alone feeling she had had for the longest time. "I think I can compare."
Tristan looked up and locked eyes with Scarlett. "When I was unconscious, all I saw was darkness. It surrounded me. I felt so cold and lonely. And then I...I felt your presence. It was strong. And I could see a faint glow. At first, I thought I was imagining things or trying to conjure you up to fill the loneliness that I felt." Any other time, Scarlett would have laughed hysterically, but she couldn't. "And then I felt your tear on my cheek. It pained me, but I knew you were really here with me." Tristan looked at her closer. "What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" Scarlett asked.
"You looked as if you've been in a fight. See what the north does to you?" Tristan answered.
"Oh, that," Scarlett said, momentarily forgetting about what had happened to her before she came back to Florida.
"Um…well, there's this guy at my new school who I apparently got on the wrong foot with. Anyway, I trash talked him, and he got his gang to…uh…get some revenge," Scarlett explained, using the best euphemism she could think of.
"Do you mean to say that a bunch of boys got together to beat up an innocent, helpless girl?" Tristan asked with a twitch in his jaw.
Scarlett didn't say anything.
"I'm going to kill 'em," he growled as he tried to sit up.
"Don't. You'll hurt your head," Scarlett objected.
Tristan chuckled. "Screw my head," he muttered as he pushed himself up with one arm, the other still intertwined in Scarlett's.
"I swear, Scarlett, I will get them back for what they did to you," he vowed, gently stroking her cheek.
"I don't think I can say goodbye again." He was whispering now as he looked deeply into her green eyes. "Not now, not ever."
Scarlett let out a sob. Tristan pushed her closer to him, resting his chin on her hair, his left hand rubbing her back soothingly. He felt so complete having Scarlett here in his arms.
"I-I have to g-go back, you kn-know," Scarlett said through her tears.
"I know," Tristan said calmly. "It's just this time, I'm coming with you."
Scarlett pulled back just enough to look into his eyes; they were filled with tears. "Y-You can't do that," she whispered.
"You don't want me to come with you?" The pain and rejection in his expression tore Scarlett's chest in half.
"What? Are you stupid? Of course I want you to come with me," Scarlett replied hastily. How could he even think that?
"Then why can't I come? Scarlett, I obviously can't make it through a week without you."
"Tristan, you live here. You have family here. You have friends here. You go to school here. You can't just throw that all away."
"That may be true," Tristan said slowly, "but I have something else that's not here."
Scarlett looked at him in puzzlement.
"You," he whispered. His hand came up to cup her chin. "Can't you see? I can't live without you. I was in the hospital practically the entire time you were gone. I need you. I really need you." Tristan's hand moved to cup her cheek, and he gently wiped away a tear with his thumb. Scarlett closed her eyes contently.
"I am here," she whispered.
"Not permanently," Tristan protested.
Just then the door opened and in rushed Mrs. Cox with Mary and Bryan. Scarlett silently got up from Tristan's side and went to the door to give them some privacy.
She was already halfway down the hall when someone called to her, "Scarlett, wait!"
Scarlett turned around to see Mary, Tristan's little sister. She waited for Mary to catch up with her. "Don't go."
Scarlett stared down at her in confusion.
"Look, I know this may sound cliché, but my brother, Tris—not the idiot, Bryan—I don't think you realize how much you mean to him."
"What do you mean?" How could she know so much about them?
"Well, ever since you two started dating, Tris has been extraordinarily polite and happy, and not as depressed as he usually is. And the entire time he was in," she gulped here, "in a coma, he kept muttering, 'Scar.' For some odd reason, I think you mean more to him than I do, which is crazy because I'm his favorite sister. So, you should think about trying to stay with him no matter what." With that said, Mary turned on her heel and made her way back to room 235, leaving Scarlett to stare after her completely dumbfounded.
Scarlett stayed with Ginny for the entire week. Her mother had called one time to make sure she was okay. Scarlett felt her heart burst when she heard her mother's voice. This was the first time that Rosa had ever given the slightest interest in her daughter's whereabouts.
Scarlett visited Tristan every day for the rest of his stay in the hospital. The doctors were still amazed that he had woken up from his long coma; they admitted that they had begun to lose hope. So he had to stay an extra week to make sure he didn't slip back into the coma when he slept. Thankfully, nothing happened while he stayed there, and finally he was allowed to come home where Scarlett would be just as present as she had been at the hospital. They talked about what was going on at their schools, and Scarlett was surprised to find out that she was jealous, almost possessive, when she heard ab
out the latest schemes Alice was coming up with to try and get Tristan into her pants. Tristan wasn't at all subtle when he heard about Christian. Even though Scarlett did her best to explain to him that Christian was one of her best friends there, but Tristan wouldn't hear anything of it. He was still convinced that he was a manwhore.
"So, about when I come up with you to Ohio—"
