Because It Is My Blood (Birthright #2)(64)

I could not believe that this was Gable Arsley. He sounded like a girl. (NB: By saying this, I meant no offense to girls—I counted myself among their number, after all.) I very much wanted to look away from this pas de deux but I couldn’t.

Gable was getting down on one knee. It was an awkward maneuver because of his prosthetic foot. Scarlet inhaled sharply. “Get off the ground, Gable,” Scarlet ordered.

He ignored her. He began to reach into his pocket, and I knew what was going to happen. “Scarlet Barber, will you marry me?” The ring was silver and looked like a piece of twine tied into a bow.

I wanted to say, She will not. Of course she will not. But I didn’t say anything.

“Last time, you said I couldn’t be serious because I didn’t bring a ring. This time, I came prepared,” Gable continued.

Scarlet exhaled loudly. “Gable, go away. This isn’t funny or romantic. It’s just”—she paused—“sad. I can’t love you ever again.”

“But why can’t you?” he whined.

“Because you really are awful. I thought you had changed but I was wrong. People like you can’t change. You were awful before the poisoning and you’re still awful. You sold pictures of my best friend—”

“But that wasn’t you!” Gable insisted. “That was her! I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Scarlet shook her head. “Annie is me. Don’t you know that? Please, Gable, just go. It’s nearly eleven and I don’t want to be out past city curfew.”

Gable moved to take Scarlet’s hand, but Daisy Gogol wedged herself between them. “You heard the lady,” Daisy said, and then she growled at him like a bear.

*   *   *

On the bus, Scarlet and I were sharing a two-person row, and Daisy and Natty sat a couple of rows behind us. I had thought that Scarlet was sleeping as she had her head leaned against the window and hadn’t said anything the entire trip. Three stops from my apartment, I heard a series of sniffles.

“Scarlet, what is it?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “Hormones maybe. Ignore me.” I had a handkerchief in my bag so I gave it to her. She blew her nose for half a city block. She paused and then she did it again. “I am so gross,” she said. I told her she wasn’t but I could tell she wasn’t listening to me. “Oh Annie, what am I going to do?”

“About what?” I asked.

“I haven’t wanted to bother you with any of it, because obviously, you have problems of your own. But everything is a complete disaster!”

The disaster of my best friend’s life broke down in the following way:

1. Her parents were Catholic so there had been no question about her keeping the baby, but Scarlet wasn’t even sure she wanted a baby.

2. Her parents were saying they didn’t want to pay for college (“And certainly not drama school!”) now that Scarlet had tarnished herself so.

3. Her mother really wanted her to marry Arsley and was threatening to throw her out of the house if she didn’t.

4. Drama club wasn’t going to let her be in the photo. (“After everything I’ve done for them!” she said indignantly.)

5. If Scarlet didn’t give birth before graduation, Holy Trinity was saying they weren’t going to let her walk at commencement.

6. Arsley was harassing her constantly about getting back with him and she feared that he was wearing her down.

Here, Scarlet sighed.

I was trying not to be selfish, to think of things from Scarlet’s point of view. I suggested that maybe she should get back with Arsley, if she still liked him.

“Annie, I loathe him! I honestly don’t know what I was thinking.” She paused. “I’m starting to believe that I really am the stupidest girl in the world.”

“Scarlet, don’t say that!”

“It’s true. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and I’m so puffy and disgusting I have to turn away. I think, ‘Scarlet Barber, you have done nothing but make horrible mistakes for the past year.’”

I told her that I had had the same thought about myself not that long ago.

“But I’m a million times worse than you! Because you had all of this thrust upon you. And I did this to myself.” She paused. “I do hate Gable, but the thing is … The sad, awful, ridiculous truth is, I’m lonely. I’m so alone, Annie. And Gable sometimes feels like the only person in the world who is even a little pleased to see me.”

I put my arm around her. “For the record, I’m always happy to see you,” I said. “And if the worst happens with your parents, you can always come stay with Natty and me. You and the baby.”

Scarlet planted a kiss on my cheek. “Really, Annie? Do you mean it?”

“Of course. That’s the best part of having no parents or even a guardian. I make the decisions now. You do run the risk of being an innocent bystander in a violent crime. But we have more than enough bedrooms.”

“I hate it when you’re morbid,” Scarlet said. “And I suppose I’m just surprised to hear you say that. You’ve always been so private. Even from me.”

I had recently come to the realization that that wasn’t the best method for living. “Nana used to say that ‘family takes care of family.’ And you are my family, Scarlet. Much more so than that band of criminals I’m blood-related to. We have been best friends since the day we were made to sit alphabetized in Miss Pritchett’s class—”