Life in Search ✔️

53 ~ Waiting

25 calls.

I've called Scarlett 25 times and she hasn't answered once. I know her phone is still on because at least they ring through.

Sage and the twins, on the other hand, turned their phones off hours ago. That just stresses me out even more. I need to know they're okay.

Stumbling downstairs, I barely make it through the kitchen door before mom shakes her head. "You're not going to school today."

"I'm fine." I mutter, reaching for a granola bar.

"How many hours of sleep did you get last night?"

Stopping to think, I shrug. "A solid five." Lies, it was one broken up hour of horrible sleep.

She eyes me up, sensing my bullshit effortlessly. "And are you planning on eating a real meal?"

"Not hungry." I just feel sick. She hums, not bothering to continue the conversation as she hands over some lunch money. "Can I have my keys?"

Dad confiscated them yesterday when I tried to sneak out to visit Scarlett. They're insistent on the claim that they need space to collect their thoughts and figure out how to move forward. I think they're just being difficult. I know the Rhodes better than anyone else and I can help them.

Mom hesitates, "Are you sure you want to go?"

"I need to see them, mom." At this point I just need confirmation that they're alive.

Once the keys are handed over, I head for the door.

*****

No one's heard from the Rhodes kids since the hospital. Ella knows they made it home but that's only because her dad's their lawyer. That just freaks me out even more. Following the girls into English, we all wince as we take in the woman waiting for us with tired eyes. Miss Miller stills, watching us take our seats. She looks like she wants to say something but before she can, the class fills up.

The warning bell rings and the empty chair beside me screams, where is she?

The girls share a nervous look and I'm about to try calling her again when the door flies open and my only thought is oh my God, she looks horrible.

Scarlett slams a paper on Miss Millers desk before taking her seat, and I'm horrified to realize she looks even worse up close. Her hair is in a knot on top of her head and her shirt has a bleach stain on the side with a few holes in it. Dull eyes are accessorized with purple bags and red lids from crying and obviously not sleeping.

She looks so... devastated.

All of class I just stare, trying to get a feel if she's even a little bit okay. All she does is blink, breathe and sit. She keeps that pattern up in third period too. By the time fourth rolls around, I decide to make a move.

She might not want to let me in, but I'll be damned if I don't at least knock on the door.

Just as she's done in every other class, Scarlett runs into the room as the final bell rings. Stiffly she takes the seat beside me, resting her head on the table rather than watching the video. Deciding to risk getting my head cut off, I lean over. "Scarlett, please talk to me."

She ignores me and before I can try again another miserable face enters the room. Sterling's attire gives me insight into just how dysfunctional they are right now. Red plaid pajama pants and a neon orange shirt give away all too much, Scarlett would've never let him leave the house so mismatched.

He talks to our teacher before heading back to the door. With a pause he looks back at us and Scarlett finally smiles, but I know it's forced. I try not to intrude on whatever conversation they're sharing but he catches my eye. Offering him a small nod, I try my best to make him feel better but it's not much.