“You think I should tell him, don’t you?”
“That’s up to you,” Griff said.
Hours after the disastrous game of Truth or Dare, the house was quiet. The neighbors had finally departed; Vera and Tom were in a deep alcohol-induced slumber; Griff tossed and turned; and Owen and Scarlet were in his bedroom, unambiguously awake. Owen had apologized for his harsh words, but the contrition felt hollow, because so were his feelings. Owen couldn’t remember a moment when Scarlet wasn’t crying. The tears felt deliberate, unnecessarily punitive, like nails on a chalkboard. Owen was certain that Scarlet would quit if she lost her audience. He went downstairs, gulped water, took a glass to Luna’s room.
Owen knocked and said, “I know you’re awake.” Luna opened the door and crawled back into bed. He delivered the tumbler of water and climbed into bed next to her. Owen closed his eyes and gulped oxygen. He rubbed his temples. He allowed his body, tensed for hours, to uncoil.
“Do you hate me?” Owen asked.
“I don’t hate you,” Luna said. “I’m disappointed.”
Owen was startled Luna would use the parental-shaming word.
“That hurts,” Owen said, wincing for show.
“Good,” Luna said, satisfied.
“I’m exhausted,” Owen said.
“You have to leave,” Luna said. “If she finds you here, she’ll—I don’t know. Be careful. She hates me now too.”
Owen slept on the living room couch. He woke before dawn. It wasn’t the kind of couch that invited sleep. He was in the kitchen, making coffee, when Scarlet turned up, standing in the doorway, stony-faced, raccoon-eyed. She resembled a character in a horror film. It wouldn’t have seemed incongruous if she had a knife in her hand.
“Hey,” Owen said.
“Hey,” Scarlet said. “I’m going to go.”
“Okay. You good to drive?”
“Think so.”
“You want some coffee for the road?”
“Nah,” she said.
“Can I get you anything?” Owen asked.
“No,” she whispered, walking toward the front door.
Owen could feel the anticipation of freedom. Once she left, the world would be right. Scarlet opened the door. A blast of cold air entered the house. She turned back.
“She’s not so great, you know,” Scarlet said. “The only reason you like her is because you don’t know her.”
Owen stared at his feet, afraid of what he’d say or do. His anger rose so intensely that his face flushed with heat and rage. In his head, he was screaming, Get out, get out, get out.
“Don’t make this about Luna. Okay?” Owen said.
“Good people don’t get hate mail. Think about it,” Scarlet said.
Owen heard the creak of the floorboards on the stairs. He looked up. Griff loped down the stairs in his robe and pajamas.
“Good morning,” Griff said, sounding pleasant enough.
Scarlet forced a smile. “Morning. Sorry about last night.”
“You leaving?” Griff asked. The delivery was casual, but Scarlet could hear the warning in his tone.
“Yes.”
“Great. Let me walk you out,” Griff said.
Scarlet wasn’t ready to leave. She had more to say. Much, much more. But Griff stood in the foyer, waiting for her.
“Got everything you need?” Griff added.
Scarlet gazed at Owen one last time.
“Bye,” Owen said.
Griff followed Scarlet as she walked to her car. She turned back and said sharply, “I can take it from here.”
Griff stopped where he was and waited until she got into her car. “Drive safe,” he said.
Griff returned to the house. He and Owen waited until they heard the engine of Scarlet’s car fade away. Owen exhaled. Griff closed the front door.
“Thanks, man,” Owen said.
Griff put his arm around his brother. “So, what’s the lesson we learned from this fiasco?”
“Dude, you interrupted my call and invited her here. You remember that?” Owen said.
“Yes,” Griff said. “That’s the lesson I learned. What did you learn?”
Owen delivered the answer he knew his brother was suggesting. “Don’t sleep with people you don’t really know. Okay?” Owen said, with the full knowledge that that was an edict he would not be able to strictly follow.
Luna woke up shortly after. She joined the brothers in the kitchen, her eyes scanning the room.
“She left about an hour ago,” Owen said.