Scar Patterson
If I excluded the handful of old women and the creepy gay guy who had insisted that I kissed him, I would have to say that day one of the kissing booth was a success. I had to kiss over sixty people, young and old alike, and some of them were even generous enough to donate fives and tens. People loved me. No other member of the team acquired as much as money as I did, and that alone solidified my title as the most loved football player in Summer Hill history.
As the day came to a close and everyone had filed out of the green and into the parking lot, Trey and I stood back to count the money. Our goal was to raise three thousand dollars for our team trip, and each member of the team was responsible for generating at least thirty-five dollars per day of carnival week. So far, I was the one contributing the most money at nearly 150 bucks, and Trey was right behind me at eighty. If we kept this up, we’d have the money in no time.
When I finished counting the money, I stuffed it back into the metal box and shoved it inside my gym bag. Pulling the strap over my shoulder and giving Trey a slight nod, we began to walk alongside each other toward the exit, marked by a tall gate and colorful balloons. “Hey, do you know where Frankie went?” I questioned him.
Trey gave me a lopsided smile. “Funny how you think I know where your girlfriend is.”
My brows knitted together as I glanced down at the green grass, stubbing my feet deeper with every step. “Huh,” I huffed in a disapproving manner. “Ten bucks says she’s hooking up with Tanner from the lacrosse team.”
Trey's dark eyes narrowed. “What makes you say that?”
“She’s the only guy she hasn’t slept with,” I pointed out.
He let out a short laugh. “That’s ‘cause Tanner is gay.”
I snapped my gaze to my best friend. “What? Since when?”
“Since he came out with his boyfriend?” Trey raised a skeptical brow.
My brows knitted together. “Damn,” I muttered under my breath, “I never would have guessed.”
A brief period of silence came over us, but Trey broke it by saying, “So are we seriously not gonna talk ‘bout the fact that someone gave you twenty bucks? Desperate much?” A coy smile curved his lips as he used a mocking tone to tease me. “It sucks having a best friend who all the girls lust after.”
I rolled my eyes deep into my sockets and let a slight groan escape my lips. I didn’t need any more reminders of the creepy gay guy. “It was just some girl,” I lied easily.
Trey responded with a big grin that showed he approved, but didn't say much after that; instead, we both walked out of the carnival gates in silence and headed toward what used to be my dad’s old beat-up Jeep. The paint had chipped severely and looked more like a nasty brown than the bright orange it was supposed to be. There were several dents along the bumper and hood from previous run-ins with other cars, and the leather seats were undesirably torn from the heat. It wasn't the sexiest of cars, but it was one of my dad’s car before he died, and my mom thought it'd be suiting if I drove it, considering the fact that she wasn’t going to buy me a car of my own.
As I circled around the Jeep to get to the driver's side, my eyes caught the stare of a familiar blond-haired boy who had his leg propped up against a shiny, black Mustang. As soon as we made eye contact, his lips stretched into a menacing grin. I tried to hide the fact that my heart probably stopped beating at that second and scrambled into the driver's seat, quickly turning the car on and feeling the engine roar beneath my feet. There was something strange about that boy and his sardonic smile, and I didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out what it was.
“Trey,” I said after clearing my throat and looking over the passenger side where he was just settling in. “Do you know that guy?”
Trey's eyes followed mine to the Mustang where the blond still stood with a teasing grin. Only this time, he was thumbing a lighter through his long slender fingers and holding up a cigarette to his mouth with his free hand. A loud cackle erupted from Trey as he sunk back into his seat. “Oh, him? The dude's the creepiest guy you will ever meet. He was my partner once for some project and I had to convince the teacher to let me switch partners.”
“Well, what did he do?”
He shook his head while chortling loudly and fiddling with the dials on my stereo system. “I guess he didn't really do anything. He just made me feel uncomfortable. He’d always be around, you know? Like he was following me, or something.”
I sat back in my seat and thought about what he just said. Oh great! Now I have a stalker. “Was he?”
He shrugged. “It could have just been a coincidence. Why? He do somethin’ to you?” His eyes grew wide and hopeful, letting me know that I could tell him anything, and I didn’t doubt for one second that I could tell Trey about my very gay and very frightening experience. We had been friends ever since we played little league baseball, and he was practically my brother. When I decided I wanted to do football instead of baseball, Trey did the same. When he had to visit his sick grandmother in London, I came with. If I could tell someone anything, it was Trey.
“I kissed him,” I blurted out.
Trey’s eyes went wide in an instant. “Uh, what?”
“Calm down, I’m not a faggot,” I clarified before he could get any wrong ideas. “He came up to the kissing booth and I couldn’t exactly say no, since we didn’t clarify that the booth was girls only–which we’re gonna have to change, by the way. He’s actually the person that gave me the twenty.”
A mixture of disbelief and confusion morphed onto his face.
“It was only on the cheek,” I added, having the sudden urge to fabricate the story. “Don’t be surprised if you hear people talking about it at school tomorrow, since I did kiss him in front of everyone.”
Trey was silent for a long while and I was starting to believe that he wasn’t okay with the information I just shared, but he slowly nodded and tugged out his phone from his back pocket. “Aight.”
I breathed a long sigh of relief and began to back out of my parking space.
The rest of the ride was silent on my behalf. Trey went on and on about a girl he met at the booth and I simply smiled and nodded. I wanted to engage my friend in more conversation about this mystery girl, but my mind was too consumed with the thoughts of the weird blond boy. I didn't want him to continue to bother me, but by the looks of it, he probably would.
Then what would I do? He knew I wasn’t donating the kissing booth money to charity, and he threatened to out me if I didn't cooperate. A football scholarship was the only way I was getting into Notre Dame. My coach talked to a couple of scouts and told me the scholarship would be mine if, and only if, I maintained a good image at school and somewhat decent grades. There was no way I was going to let that guy tarnish the pretty good reputation I had going for myself.
After I dropped Trey off at his place, I headed to my own house which was only a few neighborhoods over in a relatively poorer community. Mom’s car wasn't in the driveway, which led me to believe she was out at the bar again, even though she would surely deny it when she got home. Ever since Dad died, she was a mess, and I guess I could say the same for all of us.
Amy was the first thing I saw when I stepped foot inside the house. She sat on the edge of the couch with her arms folded against her chest in disapproval. Her face was very still, and in that moment she looked furious, more furious than she usually did. I gave her a curious look as I closed the front door and stepped further into the main foyer. “Uh, can I help you?”
She pursed her pink lips and tossed her bouncy brown curls over her shoulder. “Mom told you to take me to the carnival.” Her wintry eyes lost their color as she attempted to put on her patronizing face. “You left without me.”
I looked quizzically at her for a moment or two, and then shrugged. “You were taking too long. I had to set up for my booth,” I said simply, pushing past her and moving towards the staircase.
I practically heard Amy's heavy steps drag behind me. “I was supposed to meet my friends there, jerk face! Mom told you to take–”
I whipped around and scoffed at her. “What’s the big deal? You can go tomorrow.”
“But you were supposed to take me today!”
I slapped a hand on my forehead and lazily dragged it down the length of my face. “Look, how ‘bout you leave me alone and raid the fridge like you always do?" I watched as the words sunk in and her jaw dropped, obviously offended.
Smiling triumphantly, I jogged upstairs to my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me. Groaning in complete and utter frustration, I threw the gym bag filled with money onto the floor and fell backwards onto my bed. I raked my hands through my short brown hair and squeezed my eyes shut, taking careful deep breaths. Once I had collected myself, I rolled onto my side to stare at the family photograph on my bedside table. It was taken a few years ago, back when Amy was skinny, Mom was sober, and Dad was alive.
Before I could get too deep into my emotions, my cell phone vibrated in my back pocket, and I reached for it. “Hello?”
Francesca's feathery voice cooed on the other end, “Hey, baby.”
I sighed. “Hey, what’s going on? Missed you at the carnival today.”
“Yeah, sorry I couldn't meet up. I would’ve loved to put all those desperate girls to shame.”
My lips tugged into a weak smile and I forced a laugh to save face. The truth was, after kissing so many girls today, I realized that I could easily have any of them. I was the star of the school, the guy everyone wanted to be friends with, and I thought that meant I needed to be with someone who had just as much status as I did.
But how could I be the most sought after boy at Summer Hill with a girlfriend who didn’t even want me? Plenty of girls would’ve killed to be my girlfriend, but the one girl who had a chance to be was interested in screwing other dudes. It was all fun and games at first, but every careless hookup made me want Francesca more.
“Hey, Frankie,” I said, “what do you think about going exclusive?”
“Exclusive?” she asked with an undercurrent of amusement in her dainty voice. “What do you mean?”
“Like, you know, being exclusive with each other.”
There was a long pause on the other end, and I mistook it for Francesca hanging up on me. “Why would you want to do that? After all those girls you kissed today, I would’ve assumed that you’re loving this open relationship thing.”
I did love it, at first. It gave me the opportunity to have differing experiences with different people, but none of those people ever compared to Francesca. I did this to make her happy, just like I had done everything else in the course of our relationship to make her happy. I loved her more than I loved fooling around, and I silently hoped that she would have felt the same way about me, too.
“I want you, Francesca,” I voiced my thoughts.
I heard a frustrated sigh. “Scar, can we talk about this another–”
“Do you want me?”
“Babe, please.”
“Do you want me, Francesca?” I asked, sounding a tad more demanding this time.
She became quiet, and even though I knew what her lack of words meant, I didn’t want her to actually say it. “No, Scar–I mean, of course, I want you. That’s why we’re together, but I don’t think an exclusive relationship is going to work for us. I’m happier this way.”
“Why wouldn’t it work?” I questioned.
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Scar…” She breathed a long, heavy sigh, “…if this relationship bothers you so much, then maybe it’s better if we break up.”
In that very instant, my heart dropped to the pits of my stomach. “What?”
“I’m not about to have this conversation every time I hook up with someone that’s not you,” she replied. “It’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to the agreement that we made, so goodbye, Patterson.”
“Wait, babe–” I didn’t have a chance to finish speaking because before I knew it, the line went dead.
Sighing, I tossed my phone to the side and fell back onto the bed, letting the soft plush mattress take me into a blissful state of oblivion.
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