Page 71 of Rules in Love
“Famille Perrin is a French wine-making family, and Jocie is Jocelyn, Finn’s aunt. Finn and I are designing her house.”
“Together,” Finn added, slapping my thigh. “We are working very closely on it, aren’t we, Red?”
“Oui. Oui, ensemble, Finn.” I then burped. It was a gross, sick burp. I was not well.
“For fuck’s sake.” Brett had had enough. “I’m going to head out. Lette, do you want me to pick up Ben or what?”
“Oui—I mean, yes. Yes, please, Brett. That would really help— Oh God!” I slapped my hand to my mouth, but I was too late. A tsunami of puke blew all over Finn. It went on and on. I looked like that kid inThe Exorcist. If I weren’t so ill, I would have died of embarrassment. Covered in my barf, he still stood to aid me, grabbing my hair, and holding it back as the spew-nami rolled on.
Brett, on the other hand, screwed up his face and wet himself laughing. “Looks like I’ll be getting Ben, then. Call me later, Lette, and let me know what you want to do with him. I’m good either way.” Halfway out the door, he stopped. “Enjoy the clean-up,Flim.”
Finn
Brett was a dick.
I took an instant dislike to the bloke the minute I saw his weasley face, and he backed up my inkling by laughing and walking out on Red when she was so sick. Giant dick. Though, I doubted he was endowed with one. My beliefs over his phallic-ness were not disclosed to Scarlett, of course. Like it or not, Little-Cock Brettles was the father of her child, and I wasn’t going to openly disrespect him, no matter how minute I believed his dick was.
My contempt for the man was almost a blessing. It provided me with a distraction.
I hated hospitals. People died in hospitals. People I loved. Once Brett left, I occupied myself by dishing more family gossip, this time regarding Evie and the part-time job she’d found at Iris’s dance school. After that, I turned to refolding the blankets on the foot of Scarlett’s bed, color-coordinating the pens and charts, and fixing them again each time a doctor or nurse messed them up. My unsubtle fastidiousness was noticed.
“Finn, you’ve folded that blanket five times. I think it’s as neat as it’s going to get. Are you worried about Evie and her job?”
I shook my head, dropped the blanket, then immediately neatened it again. “No, not all. I think it’s great. I’m stoked for her.And please, you shouldn’t be worrying about me when you’re so sick.”
“I’m not sick. I’m clumsy. So, tell me what’s wrong, and then I don’t have to worry.”
The folding resumed and may have increased in vigor. “Hospitals. I don’t like them. Actively avoid them, actually.” Scarlett tilted her head to the side in sympathy. That simple motion had her eyes rolling into her head, and her face turned as green as a go light. I jumped to her side, passing her a sick bag, then sitting carefully so as not to move her. “Are you okay, Red?”
“Yup. I’m good.” She wasn’t good. But she still gave me a cute thumbs-up. She caught her breath, her complexion returned to its sweet pink tone, and the questions resumed. “Your hospital thing. Does that have anything to do with your mum, dad, and Shelby?” I didn’t respond. Instead, I began to sweep the damp, sticky curls away from her forehead. “You do know that if it is that, it’s totally understandable. That kind of trauma can stay with you for a long time.”
A pathetic nod is all I could manage. I was struggling to maintain my cool. Somehow, as unwell as she was with a freshly stitched head wound and an asshole ex, Scarlett was in better spirits than me. If she could put on a brave face, so could I.
“No, it’s not that. Not all of it, anyway. It’s the…smell mainly. It’s too, um, bleachy.”
Scarlett raised a brow. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’d wear bleach as an aftershave if you could, but I’m not going to push you. Just know if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”
“Noted, Red.” I leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
Continued vomiting meant the doctors ordered an MRI, which saw the end of Scarlett’s calm disposition. An MRI meant a contrast dye. This meant a needle, and apparently, Scarlett was terrified of needles. She lay trembling in the cold, stark-white room, and I sat beside her, holding her soft, warm hand with a machine that looked like a giant metal doughnut whirring steadily behind us.
“Promise you won’t leave me, Finn? I know it’s ridiculous to be scared, but…”
“I promise. I’ll never leave you, Scar.” That brought a cute little smile. “Besides, it’s not ridiculous. Heaps of people fear needles. It gives me an excuse to hold your hand too.”
I stayed with her as long as I could, bravely defying a nurse who looked like she was twelve when she tried shooing me out of the way to explain the procedure.
“Strictly speaking, it’s not a needle you’re getting, Scarlett, but an IV. It’s basically a needle that stays in your arm, and once it’s in, you’ll feel nothing but a light scratch.” If that was supposed to make Scarlett feel better, I’d failed. The staying in a bit seemed to ramp up the freak-out. Her grip tightened until it got to the point I was being put at risk of amputation. My fingers were purple by the time the damn thing was in, but her calmness and my circulation returned quickly once it was all done.
Disregarding my promise to stay, the nurse then successfully ordered me from the room. I valiantly fought her on it, but I couldn’t fight radiation.
They say idle hands are the devil’s playground, but with nothing but time on my hands, it was my brain that was getting up to mischief.What if there’s something wrong? What if it wasn’t just a concussion? What if…?And it wasn’t just Scarlett on my mind. Each time I heard a call over the PA or a shuffling scrunchy walk of a doctor in scrubs, I was flooded with teenage memories of hospitals, and buzzing alarms, and crying, and death.
Fuck it, Austen. I can’t believe you’ve put yourself in this situation again.I had done what I said I would never do. I’d let down my guard. Let someone in. Was falling in love.
I shouldn’t be here. Brett was right. She should be with her family. I should slow things down. Maybe step back altogether.I’m only going to hurt her.
I was ashamed to say I was seconds from walking when Scarlett returned to her bed. “Hey, I’m back. And guess what? I finally discovered a doughnut I didn’t like.”
