big heart, little world

***

"So what you're saying Sawyer is that aliens are real?!" Scout murmured, her soft child voice pitifully attempted to be quiet, of course that's never possible to achieve as a child.

We were seven then, and we had bonded by going to a summer camp together in Park City. That particular day, we made a pillow fort in her basement in July, a severely hot month.

The AC blared, and I almost begged the Utah sun to roast me it was so cold and frigid in her basement. A strange juxtaposition of how I usually felt about the Utah summer temperatures.

I got goosebumps, then nodded my head anxiously to her, a smile seeping through me, 

"Yup, it's true. The government keeps them locked away in Nevada so we don't find them." 

"Government?" Scout whispered intently, she tilted her head confused, like a dog hearing his favorite word, "Huh?"

"The people who your dad complains about constantly." I shrugged, flashing the flashlight in her face, she smiled then nodded her head, flinching away from the light projected on her child-fat face.

"I don't know Sawyer, what do they look like?" She said, rolling away from me and the light.

"What, the Government?" I snickered turning to face her.

Scout giggled then shook her head, brown bangs shaking, "Aliens." 

"Well hmm, maybe like ones with big heads and black eyes. Maybe their gooey like slime. Or-"

Scout cut me off, "We should make slime! I like glittery slime, ya know, or the ones that are glow in the dark!" Glitter was protruding from her iris's.

"Ya let's do that!" I exclaimed.

We both jumped up so excitedly that the fort we had constructed tumbled on top of us, making us both laugh tirelessly.

***

"Sawyer don't be so lame!" Scout pleaded with peril, she tugged my wrist, and nodded her head towards the diving board, "All the kids our age are doing it." 

We were eleven.

"Fine, but you go first and tell me how it goes." 

"We'll go at the same time."

"There's not enough room on the diving board for us both." I protested, though I knew I would be flying off that diving board at least once by the end of the day, whether I favored to or not.

"Come on!" She yanked me forward and there we stood at the edge of the board, I stared into the blue-green water, frozen. My feet burned from the diving board under me, itching for the soothing water below us.

"One, two three!" She grasped my wrist and yanked me into the water. Surprisingly, I was enthralled.

I remember the cold water thieving my breath, then giving me adrenaline to swim to the top, Scout smiled with one of her teeth missing and said "Let's go again." 

We went again. 

While we were drying off and scrubbing worn pool towels against our skin to dry before my mother picked us up, Scout's hand raced to her throat, gently she held it there, making funny faces, trying to swallow.

"Are you ok Scout?" I asked concerned, her eyebrows were sewn together, puzzled, and she kept blinking away the pain.

Water dribbled down her face from the pool, she was still not fully dried. 

"Y-yeah, it's all good." She shook her head and grinned at me, her eyes crinkled in joy and clear pain.

She had always glowed with ambition, but suffering masked the ambition. 

***

When I approached Scout's door, I heard shouting from inside, screaming, crying, hoarse yelling, a whole mix and mash of emotions. I pressed my ear to the door in hope of putting the puzzle pieces together, only searing my face against the hot, Utah baked door. I heard the handle of the front door being tugged, and there stood Scout sprinting out of her house. Her face was dripping from tears and sweat, she looked at the cement below us, then stared at me with hard eyes, emotionless despite the amount less feelings I had heard from inside. 

"Let's go." She said, vexation dripping from her tone.

She led me to a large willow tree, long branches hugged us as we climbed to a relatively large branch that reached out from the trunk. We sat on it, a sliver had pierced me.

"Are you alright?" I questioned, we had been silent the whole trip.

"My dad..." She trailed off and frowned disappointedly, wiping a tear from her own face, "he hates me and my sisters. He's been a wreck since mom's left him. He's terrible to me and Sadie." 

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked, she shook her head slowly, "No, Sawyer, there's not."

I looked down at the grass below us, the sky was hazy as the sun began to set. We were still silent except for the nature swirling warmly around us.

"Sawyer do you promise to be there with me always?" 

I looked her dead in the eye and I said, "Yes, I'll always be there for you, Scout." She smiled weakly, and kissed me. 

I had never been kissed before, and we were fourteen years old then. It was a shock, but then I realized I wouldn't want anyone else to kiss me but her. 

After a minute of positive silence, she gripped her throat again, it was kind of a frequent thing now. She breathed carefully, didn't talk, didn't swallow, didn't chew, didn't do anything. After a moment, it had disappeared.

"Are you alright Scout?"

"I'm okay Sawyer."

I knew back then it would be a mistake to ask her to tell her dad about the pain, he'd be so worked up about having to pay to have her get treatment, so I said nothing and did some research at home. Glossopharyngeal neuralgia is when you get sudden pains in your throat, ear, tongue, and tonsils. I knew this is what Scout had, though I had no degree of any sorts then, deep down I knew.

***

I watched from the corner of prom like a stalker, Scout surrounded by beefy guys. Each were in the process of peaking their senior year. She was wearing a dazzling red dress with a slit cut on the left side. One guy reached for her strap and pulled it down gently, obviously teasing her and clearly showing their interest in her, she laughed and pushed him away playfully. I began to walk towards the group, and I pushed away the guy that had pulled on Scout's strap.

"What's your problem Sawyer?" The guy asked me, he straightened his tux and rubbed the back of his head confusedly, glanced at Scout, then stalked away.

Scout gripped my wrist angrily and escorted me away from the man-groupies, but I had a feeling this time it wouldn't be to go upstairs and make glittery slime, jump off a diving board, or to kiss me. 

She looked at me and then to the alcohol-infested pink punch to right. Her vision stayed there.

"Sawyer please just leave me alone." Her voice yearned for me, we both knew it deep down. She shook her head slowly after saying this. Her voice had a tinge of pleading and disappointment.

"What? That guy was harassing you!" I jeered at her, surprised of what she was even asking of me.

Not to protect her was nonsense!

She grappled onto my left arm and stared at the ground, never being able to look me in the eye, "Sawyer I want to experience new things, you shouldn't hold me back if you're a good friend."

"Scout how could I let you be tossed around like a prostitute? Especially with Seniors! You're only a freshman, Scout, you shouldn't sell yourself short like that." 

"Oh and what end up with you?"

"No that's not what I meant Scout." I grabbed both her arms and stared at her, hoping she would reciprocate my blazing feelings, "Scout I really care about you and you shouldn't throw your life away like this."

"Don't be my father Sawyer." She retorted and snapped sharply. She was staring at me with knives now.

Party music was violent now, and the whimsical lights were now ridiculous and epileptic. Many still moshed and stomped, but these cheap pleasures were now pounding and head-ache inducing noises. All were drowned out by look she gave me, and her heavy breathing.

I stayed silent, then she sighed, annoyed, she muttered while gliding away from me, "Please, PLEASE, just don't get involved Sawyer. I don't want to hurt you. I-" She gripped her throat again, this looked more painful then all the other times, she grasped onto my hand and I could almost feel her agony, she stabbed her nails into my palm. 

"Scout-" I pushed, she pushed me away, then trembled away the pain, "Leave. Me. Alone." She stated sourly, then returned to the group of boys. 

I stared at the indent her nails made into my palm, and with a long deep breath of body odor and her glitzy perfume, I left prom and her behind.

***

When I graduated college I went on to be a professor at The University of Utah, same place I went to college. I've been working here for about 5 years, and now, I am writing you this letter at my too-big desk with black ink.

Dear Scout,

It's been many years, I know, but I wanted to heal our broken friendship and maybe rekindle what we had. I know it's silly to write after all these years, but I was aching for a friend that wasn't hundreds of years older than me, regarding the other professors I work with currently.

If this reaches you well, how are you? I hope you're well. I'd like to hear what profession you chose, and really everything about your life now. I feel bad that it was so awkward between us those last couple of years of high school, I really missed you. Listen, I shouldn't have been so overbearing and clingy back then, it was only because I had some stupid boy crush on you, and obviously it could never be, I know that now. I don't want you to feel pressured at all, but I really just want to meet up with an old friend, and hopefully heal the rift between us?

Sincerely yours,

Sawyer Prescott 

I didn't know if you still lived at your fathers address, but that's where I sent it anyways. A few days later, I am now holding a response.

Dear Sawyer Prescott,

This is Scout's father, I remember you still, surprisingly. I am surprised you reached out, Scout thought she heard the last of you when you went to the University of Utah, congrats. It saddens me to say that Scout died four years ago in December. She died of cardiac arrest from her glossopharyngeal neuralgia. Some condition, I don't really know. I wish she told me about it, I was a terrible, TERRIBLE father to Scout and Sadie, I wish I could take it all back and listen to her, and really both of them. It was only because of Scout's mother burdening me. I wish I could take it back, Sawyer, I really wish I could because maybe my baby girl could be alive again and well. I could've treated it sooner...

I stop reading.