Recovery | On Hiatus

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

IT DIDN'T SURPRISE me when Hayden couldn't look me directly in the eyes for more than a split second the next morning. He felt guilty. He'd said he didn't care about me, that I was just a responsibility. Of course, I knew it was a lie by this point in the recovery of our friendship, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to let him feel a little guilt for a while.

Camille gave us questioning looks as we both sat down at opposite ends of the table earlier than she was used to. We were never up this early, but I didn't get much sleep last night after Hayden's night terror—one part worrying about him and the other still angry and wounded by our argument. Something told me he didn't sleep much, either. She sent Hayden a cautious but worried glance, proving my thoughts of us hearing our argument. He nodded at the silent question, then once agin send a split second glance my way before shifting his eyes over to the waffles Camille was handing over.

"Thanks," we answered simultaneously. I didn't look up to see whether or not he glared. I knew he didn't.

We ate in tense silence, occasional glances being sent our way by Camille. A matter of seconds past before Hayden shoved the last of his waffle into his mouth and zipped out the door, bag already thrown over his shoulder. I fought a heavy sigh. Things were about to get very complicated.

"Scarlet?" Camille asked whenever Hayden was out of hearing range. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

I looked at the car form the window as Hayden sat patiently in the driver's seat. He wasn't going to leave without me today. My lips quirked up for a split second before I set my face back to a neutral expression. You're supposed to be mad at him, Scarlet.

I nodded to Camille as she took Hayden's plate. When I stabbed the last piece of my waffle and forked it into my mouth, she grabbed my plate and started to rinse it off in the sink. There was a moment of hesitation before she asked, "How did things go at home?"

My hand absently slid to the back of my thigh as I remembered Hayden seeing the large bruise yesterday before our fight. I bit my lip. "I've got some more bruises."

"And the tape I made you?" she questioned hopefully. When I shook my head, her shoulders slumped. "What happened?"

"I haven't used it," I told her, the reminder of the hopelessness I'd felt that night coming back full-force. I shrugged instead of letting it show. "If I tried threatening him, he would just take it and destroy it. We both know he'd win in a fight." Camille cringed at that. "I'll save it for if—when I decide to tell my parents."

My head whipped around as Hayden honked the horn from outside. I glared through the window, even though I knew he couldn't see it.

"You should probably go," Camille said. The dish in her hand dropped gently into the soapy side of the sink as she turned to face me. There was a pause before she timidly asked, "Why don't you ever just take pictures of your injuries?"

Because I don't want to get my brother arrested. "I'm embarrassed," I answered instead. It wasn't necessarily a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, either. "It's humiliating."

She opened her mouth to respond, but another long honk from Hayden rang out and cut her off.

"I should really get going," I interjected as well. I slid off the chair at the counter and grabbed my my bag from beside the door.

I knew Camille wanted more answers, but I also knew I couldn't give them to her. After the last few arguments I'd had with Hayden and the actual reminder of my 'fights' with Darrin, I just needed a break from thinking or talking about anything stressful. I needed a day to myself to relax, and I had an idea of just how I'd do it. I figured I'd regret the decision, but still decided that the best way to get a day to myself was to make it a day without Hayden. I was going to avoid him during every class, in the hallways, and sit as far away from him in lunch as possible. Maybe even outside.

I shook my head at that thought. The frigid air out there would freeze me. Not to mention, I seemed to have a new found fear of the snow after being left in it, bruised and crying, to get hypothermia. No, thank you.

I climbed quickly into the passenger seat when I reached the car, the warmth from the heater a nice difference from the snowy outside air. "Took you long enough," he muttered, starting down the street before I even finished shutting the door.

I glared. "I was having a conversation with your mother."

"And I'm trying not to be late," he snapped. I winced at the harsh tone, instantly reminded of my angry brother, but somehow managed to hide the action from Hayden. He might be mad, but he'd still never forgive himself if he thought for even a second that I was afraid of him.

Whatever fire I'd had left for snarky comments flew out the window. "Sorry."

Hayden didn't respond, just flipped on the radio. Stations switched as he pressed the buttons and hummed various tunes as each genre passed by. It was obvious how frequently he was stuck listening to all the different channels by the way he recognized almost every song. He could really use a bluetooth speaker to play his own music. I briefly wondered if he'd want one in the future.

"Oh!" I shouted excitedly as I recognized a song, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to be angry with him. "Leave it on this one, I know it."

I didn't miss the way his finger hesitated on the button before he sighed and pulled his hand back to the steering wheel. I knew he knew this song, but this time, Hayden didn't sing with me.