Authors: Riley Jean
“That’s why it makes a difference. If he was just a ruthless bad guy, we could argue justice. But it isn’t black or white. When it came down to it, yes he went through with the robbery, but he wasn’t just a cold-hearted thief, he was also the man that spent his last breaths keeping his promise… saving my life. If some part of him really loved me… it was first degree murder.”
My counselor sat motionless, watching me from her chair.
“Vance is the best person I’ve ever known,” I told her. “The way he looked at me… I didn’t deserve that. Not after what I did to Gabe—I mean, to Gavin.”
“And what did you deserve? To die? To be kidnapped? To be sold? What do you think would have happened to you if you hadn’t fought back?”
I blinked a few times and licked my lips. “Sometimes… I wish I hadn’t lived through it.”
That was the truth. I never believed my actions were a display of bravery or valor. My fight that night came solely from a different place… from darkness.
I had taken a life out of vengeance. It gutted me. It frightened me. It stopped me from wanting to love anyone or anything ever again, including myself. This was my penance.
“Am I supposed to hate him?” I asked. “Because I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried. I just can’t.”
“No, Scarlett,” she said gently. “You aren’t supposed to hate him. You’re supposed to forgive him. And you’re supposed to forgive yourself.”
I sighed.
Here we go again.
There was freedom in forgiveness—I got that. But why did the concept seem so much easier than its actual execution? “Is it messed up that the second part sounds harder than the first?”
She leaned forward in her seat. “May I be frank with you, Scarlett?”
“Yes, please,” I nodded. Part of me wanted her to tell me that I had done the right thing, by pushing Vance away. Another part of me knew it was wrong, even if that didn’t change the way I felt. But she never just told me what I wanted to hear. She gave it to me straight.
“I’ve always believed that the worst injustices are committed when good people fail to take action. You got angry. You fought back.
Good.
This situation did not call for complacency. But no matter what you’ve done, or what you think you’ve done, your death is not the answer. You walked away that night for a reason. God still has a purpose for your life. And we will keep at this until you believe that.”
* * *
It sat there. Mocking me. The acoustic guitar that Claire had given me permission to use whenever I wanted. She had classes this afternoon, which meant the dorm was all mine for the next three hours. It was the perfect time for me to practice my chords.
Cautiously, I picked up the guitar, situating myself on my bed with the instrument in my lap. My newly calloused fingers ran over the strings along the neck, switching through the notes between each few strums. I’d picked up a lot in the last few months of practice with Claire. But lately something more than scales had been tickling the back of my mind…
‘Love is like music,’
Claire had said.
If love were a song, what would mine sound like?
I had loved four times. I didn’t have a type, per se… I’d dated a musician, an athlete, a thief and a golden boy. I fell hardest for the worst of them, and broke the best man’s heart. So if I had to pick a type, I guess it would be poor judgment.
One part haunting. Two parts regret. Three parts enormously blessed.
I bet that would sound totally emo.
One deep breath.
It started with a simple riff. Slow. The kind of melody that made you want to close your eyes and sway. I pictured his face, that soft smile of his. I longed to tell him all the things I was never brave enough to say.
I missed having someone who gave a damn. I missed his cheesiness, and his fingers in my hair, and even the way he sometimes looked at me when I was being ridiculous.
I’d thought about him every single day since I boarded that plane. Did it make any sense that the longer we were apart, the deeper I fell for him? So many times I’d just sit and wonder if he was thinking about me, too. Was he missing me? Or did he hate my guts for leaving? Were we really better off?
And it wasn’t just the questions; I wanted to tell him things, too. I wanted to share all about my life in Texas, and the good and bad parts of each day. Most of all I wanted to see his smile. I’d do whatever it took to put it there myself. Gosh, what I wouldn’t give just to hear him call me Rosie one more time…
Pathetic, right? I mean,
this was my choice.
I knew he wouldn’t be here. I knew I’d miss him.
But I had no idea it would hurt
this much
to be apart.
Even though he wasn’t here with me, I could picture his olive green eyes. His smile. His golden skin. His freckled nose. Healing bled from my fingertips as every wound up emotion inside me found its release. I hummed along. And before I knew it, those hums turned into words…
Only in your arms, I can see the stars that dot the night
Let’s make a wish for one last kiss and hold on tight
You are the one that gives me beauty
The only one that gives me beauty
This bitter mask, a troubled past you found worthwhile
To break my wall, to make me fall, to make me smile
You are the one that makes me lovely
The only one that one that makes me lovely
Because of you…
“Ya know…” I jumped at Claire’s voice. I hadn’t realized she was back. Had it been three hours already? “They been lookin’ for a new singer in the Sunday worship band.”
I was already shaking my head before she finished. “I’ve told you,” I insisted, carefully ditching the guitar, “I don’t sing in public.”
“I’m just throwin’ it out there,” she teased as I hurried past her.
How embarrassing.
She couldn’t resist leaving me with one last thought.
“Don’t deprive him of your song, Scarlett Rossi! There’ll never be such a thing as too much music in this world!”
* * *
“I decided I hate that,” I admitted. “I hate when people say everything happens for a reason. Is that wrong of me? To question why this was God’s plan for me? What good has this done situation possibly done for me?”
“The strongest steel comes from the hottest flame.”
I blinked. “What?”
“It’s given you a testimony. Life never promised to be fair, and it never promised to be easy. The way we deal with our trials is how we reveal our character. You’ve been through something traumatic and we may never have all the answers. What I do know is this… you survived. You can share your story, Scarlett. You can help others who have been victims of violence. You can empathize with people, especially those struggling to find forgiveness.”
I chewed my lip in thought, wondering if it would’ve made a difference if I’d had someone there. Someone who experienced something similar. Someone who understood.
“You really think I can help people?”
“Your situation is unique, but guilt is something everyone can relate to, in one way or another.” She stopped writing and eyed me. “Let me pose a question. What would you say if that had been someone else? Another young girl who was taken? What if she had to choose between her life or her captor’s?”
“Are you trying to convince me I did the right thing?”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I agree that those men deserved justice—”
“That’s not what I asked either.” She leaned forward and eyed me over her desk. “If this happened to someone you knew—if this happened to Claire—what would you to say to her?”
I’d never looked at it that way before.
Sure, when it was personal, it was an impossible choice. One which I’d second guessed a thousand times. But if that had been another girl—Claire, or Gwen, or Kiki—and someone had threatened their lives… I’d tell her to fight back. I’d tell her to give it all she’s got.
If it meant protecting them, I’d do it all over again.
“I’d say… she deserved to live.”
Her eyes crinkled just the tiniest bit. It was barely a reaction. And it was everything. “I wholly agree, Scarlett. And I’d call that progress.”
* * *
[Journal]
Who is Scarlett Rossi?
The girl beneath the mask?
After so long of pretending, hiding, distracting and wandering, her identity is something I’m still trying to figure out.
I am a girl. One who tries not to gossip. One who will never own a designer purse. One who wants a lot but needs little. One who wishes she could distinguish between true strength and being emotionally numb.
One who has seen a glimpse of the life she would live if she chose not to forgive herself.
There are many sides to me, many complex layers. A convergence of feelings and experiences. Hope as well as inner discord. Good days as well as bad. Even though I’ve come leaps and bounds here, I still have a long way to go.
The real Scarlett Rossi is a work-in-progress. The trick is learning to be okay with that.
* * *
I was soon to learn that life wasn’t about dodging landmines; it was about standing tall even when the world does everything in its power to annihilate you.
And that for better or worse, I was not fully immune to feeling. My emotions were still, in fact, in working order.
And finally, when it rains, it pours.
Something felt off the moment I heard my phone ringing. It’s not like I got lots of calls in general. Given that someone needed to reach me at three in the morning, well, that was my first clue.
I rolled over and reached for my cell buzzing on my desk.
“Hello,” I answered sleepily.
“Scarlett…”
Top three for most heartbreaking sound in the world: my name as a sob.
“Lexi?” I said in a daze. “What’s wrong?”
I waited while she sniffled and cried into the phone, baffled at what kind of trouble she’d gotten herself into. It’d been a long time since she came crying to me, and we both knew I was through enabling her.
“It’s…” her voice broke. “It’s Phoenix.”
“Phoenix?” I repeated.
What was happening?
“Our Phoenix!
Scarlett… He overdosed!”
“He
what?”
I gasped into my shaking hand, immediately more alert. Within seconds my panic matched hers. This wasn’t even in the realm of my expectations. “Oh my… Where is he? Is he okay?”
“Can you come over?”
“I’m… not in the area, Lexi, just tell me what’s going on. Is Phoenix okay?”
A lamp turned on. My eyes shot to my roommate. I felt bad for waking her, but she only gave me a look of concern.
“You have to come home, Scarlett. You have to.”
A chill crept up my spine.
Why wasn’t she answering me?
“Lexi. Focus. Where are you? Who’s there with you?”
Shuffling. Murmuring.
Memories of our ten-minute hug in my driveway…
“Scarlett.”
“Dirk?” I said, recognizing his voice on the spot. But it didn’t sound right either. He sounded exhausted.
“Are you at home?”
I had to swallow, but it felt like forcing down shards of glass. “I’m out of state. Lexi’s got me freaking out and I need somebody to answer my question. Now. Is Phoenix okay?”
Runner up for the most heartbreaking sound in the world: grave silence.
Every blood cell in my body slowed down to a crawl. I didn’t even want to hear his answer. Silence was limbo. Silence was maybe. Silence was hope. As much as it crushed me to prolong that uncertain silence, I held out for the very last few seconds.
Because I didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be true. Not now. Not Phoenix.
Grand prize for the most heartbreaking sound in the world: Dirk’s choked out answer to that question.
“No.”
[Past]
“You can’t hug me from that side of the glass! Get your cute little asses over here!”
Gwen and I exchanged huge grins then both laughed as we rushed around the counter to hug our old friend. I’d told Phoenix that Gwen and I worked together now, but I hadn’t expected him to show up.
“It’s been forever!” Gwen said as she squeezed one side of him. I squeezed the other, though it hadn’t been forever for me. “How are you? How is everyone?”
“All copasetic, babe. Living the dream. I’m still waiting for that wedding invitation though!”
She lit up. “You’ll get one. Soon, I think, after he gets promoted. You’ll get one for sure.”
“I better,” he said with a friendly wink. He glanced at me, then back to Gwen. “So… you guys got Rocky Road around here?”
“I can make it for you,” she offered.
After she went back around the counter to fix his dessert, he turned to face me with a soft expression. “You left before we finished our set.”
My smile dimmed at the mention of Sock Philosophy’s performance last weekend, and the reminder of the way Nathan had used their band like a weapon to deliver his personal attack.
“I can’t imagine why,” I responded, terse. One song was more than enough.
Phoenix was no dummy. “Sorry about the song, Scar.”
I nodded once. “Did he write it?”
“Come on. You know Nate,” he chuckled. “Never knew a good thing when he had it.”
“I don’t care about that anymore,” I said, looking away. “I just don’t get it. I actually have reasons to be bitter. But what the hell is
his
problem?”
“Does it help that Dirk and I both called him an asshole?”
“No,” I said, but a small smile pushed its way through. It helped a little.
“He wasn’t expecting to see you. There. With Ricky. Looking like this. We were all shocked, but Nate… I think you broke his heart all over again.”
I looked up at him, hopeful… mostly out of spite (or so I told myself). “You think?”
“The truth?” he asked. I nodded. “He dug his own grave because he can’t get over himself. You guys were good together. If I were only Nate’s friend, you’d be the kinda girl I could only wish for him to find.” With a sigh, he tugged lightly at one of my curls. “But I can’t wish that, because I’m your friend, too.”
His unexpected sweetness gave me pause. No one had ever put it like that before. I knew I deserved better than the way Nathan had treated me, especially towards the end. But it was nice to know someone else actually saw beyond the disastrous match we had become. We
were
good together. At least we had been, as friends. It made me feel better knowing I wasn’t the only one who saw it.
“Thanks Phoenix,” I said, hugging him. “I knew there was a reason you were always my favorite.”
“Tell Storm he better take good care a’ ya,” he said, hugging me back.
I smiled. “He always does.”
* * *
[Present]
Screw baby steps
, said the universe. And then I was shoved right out of the nest.
Right when I decided to care… life bombarded with the force of a tsunami, emotions knocking me on my ass and obliterating everything in its path. I was unprepared… powerless to stand against it. So I, too, was swept away in the storm.
The death of someone so young. The loss of a friend.
A cataclysmic tragedy.
“Oh, God. No. Not Phoenix…”
My roommate pried the cell phone from my hands. She quickly started micromanaging.
“Let’s get you on the first flight out to L.A. I’ll print your tickets. You, pack your bags.”
I shook my head, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I can’t go. Finals are next week. Plus, do you have any idea how expensive—”
“Hey!” She snapped her fingers at me. “You don’t gotta be so sensible all the time! We’ll get you back before finals. As for the tickets, I’ve got that part covered. You need to be there, don’t worry about anything else.”
I gawked at my roommate. Had I heard her correctly? “No. No way. I can’t let you do that. You’re saving for a new car!”
“I can get a new car anytime,” she shrugged. “You need to get on that plane today.”
I didn’t like feeling indebted to people. I fumbled for some way to make this right. “I’ll pay you back,” I offered.
She shook her head. “It’s a gift. No strings attached.”
“But why?” I didn’t understand.
“Because, Scarlett…” She put her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “Love—that’s what it’s all about. Nothing in this world matters more than people. And something tells me you could use a little reminder.”
I blinked up at her. “I’m going back to California?”
“I reckon you must feel a bit like a gnat caught in a hail storm right now. But you can do it. You’re ready,” she said, adamant. “Now
move it,
sugar. There’ll be plenty of time to cry on the way to the airport.”
Was I ready? I wasn’t so sure. My stomach filled with dragons at the mere thought of returning to the mess I’d left behind.
But she was right about one thing—I needed to be there. For Phoenix, I needed to go.
I would not slip back into numbness. I would not let myself tune out.
So I did as she said. I packed my bags. Got in her car.
Then I cried the whole way to the airport.
* * *
It took me a while to pull myself together. I had the longest distance to travel by far. But I would show. Of course I would show.
With my heart in my throat, I walked through the gate and into the familiar backyard where I relived a thousand memories in a matter of seconds. Everything from kickbacks, to birthday parties, to making music, to cheering on the guys as they played basketball or football. Plus one very stupid, very destructive night.
For a moment I wondered if any of them even wanted to see me. Of course we all loved Phoenix. And once upon a time, we all loved each other. But each of us had strayed a long way since then, torn apart by hurtful words, bad decisions and drama. Now that the best of us was gone, I wondered if there was anything left to hold us together.
The moment I stepped into that yard, it was like a trip back in time. They were all here… all except one. And suddenly the other stuff seemed petty.
Dirk saw me first. His eyes were more red and swollen than in the eighth grade, when we found out his mother had moved out. I went towards him immediately and he met me with a bear hug. As we clung to each other in our brokenness, I wished I had the magic words to comfort him. He just lost his best friend. What were they going to do without him? What was the world going to do without him?
Dirk released me and Gwen took his place, hooking her arms around my neck and sniffling into my shoulder. Once upon a time, I might’ve thought Gwen was tough as nails. But after this year, I knew better. Her heart was a little misguided at times, but her love had the strength to move mountains.
Lexi was next. She nearly ran me over trying to embrace me. I chuckled sadly and combed my fingers through her blond hair from root to tip, because I knew it used to soothe her. Her body shuddered with sobs. My own tears spilled over. I squeezed my eyes shut and let myself feel the red-hot burn of grief. Phoenix didn’t deserve my detachment.
Then, in an action I never could’ve seen coming, Nathan grabbed my arm and pulled me into him, tucking my head under his chin. And just like that, I was back in the first safe haven I had ever known. I missed him. For some stupid reason, I would always miss him.
When his big arms wrapped around me, I let it all go—all the hurt and the drama and everything else that never even mattered in the grand scheme of things. Instead of trying to be the strong one, I took the comfort he offered. I needed it. Badly.
His hands moved across my back just like they used to, providing a warmth I had forced myself to forget. I wept on Nathan’s shoulder for us. For our friends. For Phoenix.
Three more sets of arms came around us in a united group hug. And together we stayed just like we used to be— knotted as one.
* * *
“Remember that time we went to Venice Beach?” said Gwen.
“And Dirk ripped his shirt off and started lifting weights to show off in front of those Swedish chicks,” added Lexi.
I smiled. “And Nathan charged that girl five bucks to paint a fairy on her back, but instead he painted the Batman symbol.”
We all laughed a little at that.
Dirk grew serious. “All he wanted to do was get back out there and surf again.”
“He always said,
‘I’m either living my dreams,’”
quoted Nathan, and we all joined in to finish,
“‘Or I’m living my fears.’”
After that everyone needed a moment.
Dirk was the first to let go. No words were needed. When he walked away from our huddle the rest of us followed silently, obediently. It was the only thing that felt right.
The cluttered tools and subtle musk of Dirk’s garage had become a faded memory from my youth. But we moved into position like it had only been yesterday since we last played together.
Dirk and Nathan lifted the straps and fitted themselves into their guitars. Gwen dusted off the old keyboard. Lexi grabbed the egg shakers. I picked up the second microphone, to which Nathan frowned but said nothing.
Nathan and Gwen started us off to the tune of Lyndard Skynard’s
“Free Bird.”
One by one, we all joined in.
The drums sat eerily silent.
The group hadn’t lost its chemistry, even after all these years. The emotion behind the somber melody had never been more powerful.
When Nathan got too choked up to sing, I took over the vocals and placed a hand on his back. He reciprocated by wrapping an arm around my shoulders. And we finished the song together.
At the final chord, Nathan spoke into the microphone the one thing that was in all our hearts:
“Today… the Phoenix is flying free.”
* * *
Everything had changed for our once indestructible clique.
We fought. We went different ways. We hurt each other.
But today, for the first time in a long time, I remembered the friendships that we once shared, and their goodness became real once again.
It wasn’t right that Phoenix was gone. And nothing we could do would make it right or bring him back. But we had a choice in how to react to this tragedy, and we chose to let it draw us together, instead of letting us rip us further apart.
And that was a start.
Apologies and forgiveness were exchanged, along with more hugs and tears, until Nathan and I were the only ones left in that garage, and we couldn’t avoid it any longer.
“You must think I’m pathetic,” I said, perched up on a tool chest.
He looked at me questioningly.
“You honestly thought that Ricky and I were together, while he was with all those other girls?”
“Yeah, well,” he smiled ruefully and looked down. “You’ve been known to date some idiots.”
Self-deprecating humor? A first for Nathan. Never thought I’d see the day.
At least today, of all days, we were all able to put aside the drama and everything about high school that had become sour in our memories. I couldn’t help but wonder if Phoenix was here watching over us, helping us heal, keeping us calm, like he always had.
Too bad it had taken his death to get us here.
“I know you’ll never believe me, but I meant what I said that night. Ricky was always like a brother to me. He looked out for me. He gave me a safe place to go when things got rough at home. That’s all.” With Nathan I was always faithful. Ironically, as my first, he had my full heart and purest devotion. “Still… I shouldn’t have done it.”
He nodded but didn’t respond.
“And they haven’t all been idiots.” I paused to gauge his reaction. “Do you remember Vance Holloway?”
His lip curled. “Isn’t that guy married?”
I rolled my eyes with a huff. “No. He is not married. Do you ever get tired of making this stuff up?”
At least he had the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. Holloway’s alright. If you like pretty boys.”
I laughed. That was probably the best I was gonna get out of him. And I had to appreciate his consistency. Sometimes the only people we can rely on for consistency are the jerks.
“I’m sorry about Analise,” I said. “I know how much it screws with your mind when someone you love betrays your trust.”
He didn’t say anything, but he lifted a shoulder.
I took a deep breath and wondered if my next words would be a mistake. Maybe this wasn’t the appropriate time or place. Maybe unspoken words were pointless after all this time had passed.