He reached for her hand and rubbed a little circle on her palm with his fingers.
“I…” He shook his head. “I guess you have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
THE IMPOSSIBLE BREAK
Spencer was outside on the sidewalk, sitting on the stoop and drumming his fingers on the lid of one of the trash cans chained to the front of the building. His unicycle was balanced against his knee. There was a look in his eyes that Scarlett had never seen before—a distant, dim stare. She saw him notice her tousled hair and slightly rumpled clothes.
“You didn’t answer your phone,” he said. “I called you about a dozen times.”
Scarlett looked at her phone in confusion. The answer was depressingly dumb—it had run out of charge.
“Oh, it…”
She held it up to explain. This didn’t impress him much.
“Come on,” he said.
He said nothing as they waited five minutes for a free cab to come by. Spencer tossed the unicycle into the trunk. She got in and he slid beside her, keeping close to his side of the seat.
“I called home and covered for you,” he finally said in a low voice when they were halfway uptown. “That wasn’t easy. You were supposed to be home two hours ago. I told them we were working late and that I was with you. It’s a good thing I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, because I might not have.”
“You’re angry,” she said.
“Yeah,” he snapped. “I am seriously pissed.”
The cab made a frighteningly fast turn. She slid into him and then edged her way back.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.
There was no point in denial.
“I…couldn’t.”
“What do you mean you couldn’t?”
She was about to say, “Because Eric said not to.” But no matter how she put that, it was not going to come out well. She left the question unanswered as they rode up Third Avenue.
“Then you took off from the party without telling anyone where you were going. So, suddenly, you just aren’t there, you’re not answering your phone, you’re just gone. No one knew where you were, not even Mrs. Amberson. To be honest, Scarlett, it scared the crap out of me. I only went to Eric’s because I had no idea where else to look.”
The cab jerked to a halt in front of the Hopewell. Spencer reached into his pocket, pulled out some crumpled bills, and shoved them through the window to the driver. He kept three steps ahead of her while he unlocked the front door and didn’t say a word in the elevator. When they hit the fifth floor, he dropped the unicycle and stalked down to their parents’ room, the Diamond Suite, knocked on the door, and mumbled a few words of explanation.
His entire body stiffened as he walked past her to his room. She followed him inside. He started undressing, as if the conversation was over and she wasn’t even there.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I am. I swear.”
“I’m tired,” he said, tossing his shirt into the corner. “I get up early, remember?”
He climbed into bed, still in his shorts and shoes, but she didn’t leave. He folded his arms over his chest and stared at her. Spencer mad was actually a scary, but infrequently seen thing, like the Loch Ness Monster. He could hold a lot of emotion in the narrows of his face.
“Do you want to know what really bothers me?” he said. “What makes me mad is that you couldn’t just tell me. You looked right at me and lied to my face.”
“I…”
She was going to say had to. But she didn’t have to lie to Spencer. She just did. He had her dead to rights.
“Can I just ask,” he said, his voice reaching a sharp edge, “what you think is going to happen? He’s about to start college, Scarlett. You’re going to be a sophomore in high school. How’s that going to go? Do you think he’ll have time for you once he starts school?”
There was a meanness to this that was completely unfamiliar. It made her nauseous.
“So, you think he can’t like me?”
“Of course he likes you,” he said. “He’s a guy.”
“What does that mean?” she spat. “Are you just mad because you’re not dating anyone?”
Where had that come from? She didn’t mean that. It just came out.
“It means just what I said,” he replied. “This is a bad idea, all around. And this is my show you’re messing with.”
“Messing with?” she said. “This isn’t about you. He likes me. So what if he’s in your cast? And the only reason there’s even a show to go to is because of me.”
He rubbed his face hard with his hands, as if trying to make the view of her go away.
“Forget it,” he said. “I covered your story. I’m going to sleep.”
He flopped on his side, turning from her. She backed out of the room, waiting for any sign that he was going to keep talking. It didn’t come. When she was out in the hall, he got up and closed the door. And for the first time, she heard the sound of his bolt sliding shut.
ACT III