13 | Guilt
Numbers are easy. They are straight forward numerical values which don't change despite the context. One plus one will always equal two. Words are different. They will never mean the same because words have many meanings.
Words are like girls. They are complex and they change.
Scarlett is the exception. One moment she's a number and other times she's a complex word. The thought of Scarlett often leaves my head spinning, but there's an enormous part of me that loves it.
My brain is numb from numbers. It is the same generic pattern printed page after page that leaves me displeased with the workload. I never realised how daunting bookkeeping could really be.
I thought this challenge would take my mind away from Scarlett. But the hardest problem I'm struggling to work out isn't the ones printed in this book, but the girl across the street.
What is she really thinking? Do I want to know?
I'm almost ten pages in and I don't think I'll ever make it to the other side. I'm beginning to understand why Bruce decided to pass this on; I would too.
The bell above the door jungle as someone steps inside of the establishment. I look up to see Scarlett walking towards the front counter. I dip behind the polished napkin dispenser to hide.
Scarlett hands Gloria money and in return, she passes her a plastic bag filled with takeaway containers. She doesn't look around the diner, instead, she puts one foot in front of the other and walks back to Ricky. I'm beginning to dislike him further.
I miss seeing Scarlett perched behind her desk. She's hardly ever there now. Now, she moves between the back room and Ricky's bedside. He's becoming a solid reminder of the placing I'm beginning to call home.
* * *
I promptly finish work by mid-afternoon. I pack the papers into the folder, collect my belongings and head to the counter. Gloria takes the folder and places it on the counter for later.
"Have a good day." I smile.
"Same for you Pierce," she replies.
Waving over my shoulder, I head towards the door until I notice the thin brown headed woman walking up the street. I leap back and take a seat in the closest free both. I flip my hoodie on and hide behind a discarded menu. She can't see me here.
The door chimes open and she steps inside. Her heels click against the scuffed flooring as she heads towards the counter. I take this moment to run.
I shove the door open and quickly walk across the street. The bright flickering light of the motel sign comes into view as I rip the door open and run towards Scarlett's desk.
Surprisingly, she's seated behind the desk with her feet kicked up while eating fried food shoved in the plastic container.
"You look like you've seen a ghost Pierce," Scarlett comments.
"Close enough," I mutter.
I leap behind the desk which earns me a weird glance.
"What the hell are you doing? You can't be back here!" Scarlett places the container on the desk, then moves her chair back to look at me. I rest my back against the desk and place my finger against my lips.
"Shh."
"Spit it," she replies.
"My mother. If she comes in, don't tell her I'm here," I explain.
Scarlett leans back in her chair and frowns. "Wouldn't it be better if you . . ."
The door squeaks open, which cuts Scarlett off.
"Please?" I whisper.
Scarlett swivels her chair closer to the desk. From my shaded view, I see a tight smile appear.
"Hi there, I'm Scarlett. How can I help you?" she inquires.
"I'm, um, looking for someone," she skittishly mutters. "I think my son, Pierce Davenport, is staying here." Her voice is hopeful but leaves my heart swirling within the pain. I did this to her.
"I can't-"
"I know, but please tell me," she pleads. "I need to know he's okay."
"He left a couple of days ago, muttered something about a bus and took off," Scarlett explains.
"Did he mention where he was going?" she asks.
"I'm sorry. He didn't say anything."
"Do you, uh." There's a pause. "Do you think he was happy?"
"Yes."
"Thank you for your time, Scarlett."
I hold my breath as I wait for the sound of the door to close. As it slams shut, I flinch back and sigh with discontent. I've made many bad choices in life.
Scarlett's chair croaks as she turns to me.
"Do you want to explain that?" she demands.
"You already know the answer," I reply.
My head hits the wooden desk with a thud. I drop my gaze to my fingers and wait for her response.
"Why don't you talk to your mother?" She asks like it's the easiest way to go, but it isn't.
"If I see her, I'll be forced to go home," I reply.
"Your parents can't force you to leave," she grumbles. "You're an adult and you can do what you want."
"I know." I sigh. "It's just that I don't want the guilt to set in. If it does . . ."
"Are you kidding me, Pierce?" He voice escalates. "I thought you weren't that type of guy?" Her brows raised.
"What kind?" I laughingly joke. "The one to kidnap? If you thought that, you were severely wrong."
"How about a simple message?" she offers.
I shift to kneeling in front of her chair, hands on either side.
"I'll take your suggestion into consideration." I smile.
"You should," she insists.
I pull the chair towards me. Scarlett leans forwards, which allows her red hair to cascade over her shoulder.
"How is Ricky?" I change the subject.
"Grumpy." Scarlett sighs.
"Does that mean I can finally take you out?" I question.
"I don't know." A small smile floats onto her lips. Within the next moment, she leans against her chair and smirks.
"Just say yes." I place my hand on her knee.
"Fine Pierce, we can do something." She places her foot on my chest, then shoves me backward. I fall onto my back and lay on the ground. "Don't think I'll be waiting around either."
"Sitting around is still waiting around for me," I tease.
Scarlett tries to move away, but I trap my shoe under the wheel and stop it from moving.
"Get out of here." Scarlett spins around in her chair.
"You love it when I'm here." I smile.
"You're also lying on the floor," she replies.
"At least I'm with you."
Scarlett doesn't make another comment, so I lay on the ground thinking.
My stomach is consumed with guilt because I've never handled things properly. Though, I manage to shove it aside because all that's on my mind is Scarlett and I don't feel any guilt when it comes to her.
Do you think Pierce should have pushed his mother away? Do you think he'll send her a message like Scarlett suggested?