Okay, this is how Wednesday went.
Scarlett woke up with a headache from the lemonade, I realized that it was the day for the protest, we ironed out the details.
The protest took place outside Red Rock Casino. Under the moon and bright flashing lights, it looked more like a rave than protest but we still got our point across. The protest was a success... then Scarlett passed out.
And wouldn't wake up.
So, I rushed her to the ER, where the diagnosed her with dehydration. The "lights from the casino weren't helping the cause." That, plus dehydration equals Scarlett passing out.
We went back to the hotel room where I put Scarlett to bed where she tossed and turned, yelling about a scientist? Another nightmare, I hope... The thing about Tuesday nights "nightmare" was that she acted much differently when she woke up. She was so... I don't know how to describe it. Odd. That's it. Odd.
. . .
Scar screamed and I just watched her. Tossing. Turning. It's not like I could pull over the car just to wake her up and comfort her, that's not easy—or recommended when traveling along I40. "Scarlett!" I tried to yell above her screams, but Scarlett can scream. "Scarlett!" I took one hand off the wheel and shook her.
She opened her eyes in a start. When she realized where she was, she closed her eyes tight and held her breath. Scar let go of her breath when she opened her eyes again.
"Want to talk about it?" I asked.
"No."
"Okay." I won't push her on the topic of her nightmares. I know that the nightmares scare her as she's living them out, and for her to want to relive them again is unlikely. So I didn't push on. "Would you like to stop soon? Bathroom break?"
She shook her head. "The sooner we get to Phoenix, the better." Scarlett put in her earbuds and tuned out the world.
I focused on the road, the orange dessert and the steady sound of tires running down the highway.
Still another three hours to go.
Three hours running on a sleepless night.
I smiled at the shit the world was handing me.
I smiled and decided to toss—no, throw—it back in World's face.
We sat in the hotel room for a long time without speaking. Scarlett was reading and I just sat there, doing nothing. Scarlett's phone rang and she got up and went into the bathroom and answered it. I tried to listen in, but she kept her voice down. She came out of the bathroom sometime later, hysterical, with tears running down her face. "We have to go back!"
"What? Why?"
"She's dead Chase, and he killed her." Scarlett went over to her bag and started packing it up. "He murdered her."
"Who? Who murdered who?"
"Travis. Stella is dead and Travis killed her. They don't even know Travis killed her. They think it was a suicide. But it wasn't. Stella was happy until Travis came along." Scarlett went over to my bag and started packing it.
"Scarlett, stop. We can't just pack up and leave. We don't even know when the funeral is." I grabbed Scarlett's hands and held them tight. "Listen, I don't think it would be good for you to go back to San Bernardino. First off, it won't be good for you to go to her funeral, second, you saw how the school treated you. You can't go back, not as Scarlett, not as Riley."
Scar bit her lip, taking in what I said. "You're right. You're right, I can't go back there." She pursed her lips. "Travis killed her, Chase. Travis. A hate-crime."
"I'm sure you're right. But as far as the police know, it was a suicide. Let's keep it that way."
Scar nodded. She looked scared, like I would turn on her like Travis did to Stella. "Scarlett, you know I would never hurt you, right? Travis is a monster and I'm not like him." I touched her shoulder but she turned away.
"I know you wouldn't hurt me... but... I'm just... I feel like it's all my fault, you know?"
I shook my head. "I don't know what you feel like, but I do know that it wasn't your fault." I grabbed her chin and kissed her slightly. "Nothing is ever your fault." I kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held me to her lips. "I love you."