After Math(24)

I shake my head as he watches me. “Don’t.”

He nods and moves across the table, pulling his books out of his bag.

I reach for my coffee, and my hand shakes. Damn it. The stress of this week is destroying all the progress I’ve made in the last two years. All this time, I thought that if I worked hard enough at school I’d graduate and get the perfect job, and then I’d be totally self-sufficient and never need anyone to make me feel complete. My mother spent my entire life running after men, trying to find one who would take care of her. Admittedly, most were losers, but there were a few who were kind to me and stuck around long enough to fill in for the father I’d never known but always longed for. Yet every time I got attached one of them and relied on them to be part of my life, Momma soon moved onto greener pastures, and I was left with a giant hole in my heart. It didn’t take long to see that I couldn’t count on anyone or anything to stay with me. My life is a revolving door for people. I’ve accepted this, and despite my occasional dating attempts, I’m prepared to live my life alone.

What Tucker doesn’t know is that I don’t expect him to stay. I don’t expect anyone to stay.

His hand covers mine, and I realize I’m looking out the window, crying. He wipes my tears from my cheeks and stares at me, his face unreadable.

He doesn’t say anything, and my heart is breaking into pieces. How can I feel this way about someone I just met a few weeks ago? Perhaps it’s because for the first time in my entire life, I’m not invisible.

Panic swims in his eyes when my tears still flow. “I think I get this part.” He points to his notebook. “Do you want to work on something of your own?”

I pull out my own books, starting to freak out that I’ve spent so much time crying about my love life, or at least my pathetic attempts at it, that I’ve lost valuable study time for my math test on Friday. And when I have attempted to study, I’ve been unable to focus. I take several deep breaths. I need to calm down.

His hand reaches across the table and covers mine, and I close my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I push out. “I have a test tomorrow, and I’m not nearly ready.”

“You’ll do fine, Scarlett.”

I open my eyes and search his face. His smile is full of confidence and pride.

“How can you possibly know that?”

He turns serious, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. “Because I believe you can do anything you set your mind to.”

I bite my lip, uncertain how to respond. How can this boy I’ve known such a short time have more faith in me than my own family? More faith than anyone who’s ever been part of my life?

How can he expect me to sit here with him when he admits he wants to be with me, yet refuses to do anything about it? I’d rather he take a chance and break my heart than tease me with something I can never have.

I close my books and pick up my bag. “I can’t do this.” I shake my head, and my fingers tremble as I try to open the clasp of my pack. “I thought I could, but I just can’t. It hurts too much.” Maybe I look like a fool telling him that, but I promised myself I’d be honest with him. If I’m telling him goodbye, he deserves to know why.

His face pales, and he reaches for my hand. I close my eyes as he cradles my palm, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

I wait for at least ten seconds.

Maybe we can be friends later, but for now, I need some distance. I pull my hand from his. My trembling fingers struggle to shove my books in my bag. Then I stand, hesitating. Giving him one last chance before I walk away.

He looks up at me in horror, but remains silent.

My only thought is that I need to escape to the sanctuary of my room. I’ve held it together as long as I can. I walk as calmly as possible out to my car, but my fingers fumble with my keys. Frustration wells up in me, adding to my heaping pile of pain and fear, and a sob escapes. Why can’t I open the damn door? It’s such a simple thing. It’s a fucking door, but I can’t even do that right.

I can’t ever do anything right. My own mother doesn’t want me. Why would I think someone else would?

I’ve always known I’d be alone. How is it that for years I’ve accepted that fate without qualm, yet a few weeks with Tucker makes that feel like a death sentence?

More tears blur my eyes, and the keyhole is impossible to see. I need to calm down. I need to get myself together and get out of here before I make a fool of myself.

“Scarlett, wait.” Tucker is behind me and wraps his arms around my stomach, pulling my back to his chest.

I lean my head against him and try to catch my breath. “You can’t have it both ways, Tucker. It’s not fair.” Even as I say the words, I realize how ridiculous they are. Nothing in life is fair. I’m not naïve enough to believe in fairness, yet I’m insisting on it anyway. But this is something within my control, as limited as it is. And Tucker’s right. I’m all about control.