Run Between

Truth or Truth

Approaching the studio, I know something is wrong. Maybe its the silence of the actors, as if someone has duct taped all their mouths, or the absence of half the set crew. Either way, I pass by Aidan and Steve, wondering where Scarlette has gone, and instead walk up to Nick. "What's going on?" I ask, brows furrowed.

"Ah," he says, obviously uncomfortable, "You see, well, Scarlette is--refusing to cooperate."

"What? Why?" Although a pit grows in my stomach, it is not something I am completely surprised about.

Nick pauses before responding. "We're not quite sure. Right now, she's hiding outside, and won't tell us what's happening." He waits a moment, then adds, "Something about her dad." I do not know what to say; never having had practice at comforting, nor a role model to learn from. A soft 'oh' escapes my lips, and I turn to leave when Nick calls me back. "Hey, Luce--do you think you could try to get her back?" I try to tell him that I don't know what to do, but Nick won't take no for an answer. Apparently, Steve, Aidan, Grace and Mary, and even Lizza have all tried without success; now the set crew is taking a turn. Before I know it, I am outside too, walking towards the tree under which Scarlette is curled up in a ball.

I never thought I would see someone so sarcastic and snarky this vulnerable, but here I am. Unsure of what to do, I start with a soft, "Hey." When she doesn't respond, I add, "I heard about your dad."

This sparks an immediate reaction. "What?" she says in a deathly low voice, head suddenly whipped towards me. Her face is stained with tears; even some of her red hair is drenched from the water. "But--but--I didn't tell anyone how he died. This morning. And now...now..." She hides her face again, and I am just happy she can no longer see mine. Dead? I can't help but wonder, and how does no one know about it?

I don't realize how long I am gaping until Scarlette faces me once again. Her eyes search mine, as if doing so will make me more trustworthy. Apparently it doesn't work, though: she suddenly stands up, wobbling a little, then exclaims, "You don't know," and runs away.

"Wait!" I shout after her, but its no use; she's already gone. I consider going back, telling Nick that I am just the next failure, but before I can I feel my feet flying after her. Finally, I find her sitting under a tree with her head still in her hands, and racking sobs still shaking her body. I sit down next to her, wondering if I should put my arm around her or not. For a few minutes, we sit in the awkward position of my hand hovering over her hunched shoulders, until I rest it there. She picks herself up and turns to me at this slight touch, and opens her mouth to say something, as if the thought had been trying to escape its prison. "My...dad...died...this morning," she says slowly, as if not wanting to believe it, "He had cancer. He couldn't leave the hospital for months and couldn't come to visit and--and--" Scarlette's expression suddenly turns from relief to stricken. "Oh, my God..." I whisper what I see as comforting words to her, but they either are not sympathetic or just pathetic, because Scarlette responds with a harsh, "Don't say anything. Not now." I think she is going to lapse back into sobs, but instead she says, "Now you tell me something."

"What?" I ask, unable to process the turn of events, "Why?" But even as Scarlette tells me something about a truth for a truth, I know that I cannot deny her this. Not after all that's happened. Subconsiously, I search my mind for something to say, a good reply--and finally, I think I've found one. But when I open my mouth, something completely different comes out, blurted faster than anything else I've ever said in my life. "I'm in love with Aidan."

To my surprise, Scarlette's tear-streaked face somehow forms a smile. "Finally figured it out, have you?"

"What?" I ask; then, "Is it that obvious?"

"No--well, maybe a little," she says, obviously happier at this, "Ever since my dad was di-diagnosed..." She chokes back a sob before continuing, "I've noticed things more."

"And tried to shut them out?" I add, then put a hand to my mouth. How can I be so heartless?

Slowly, Scarlette nods her head. I whisper an apology, but I don't think she hears me. Instead, she lets a few more tears fall from her eyes and gets up. She then proceeds to walk towards the studios.

And, as I run to catch up to her, I realize that maybe things aren't as they seem.