Scar Patterson
I had a hard time focusing on the kissing booth that Thursday because all I could think about were all the traitors in my life.
Francesca was the only person I could ever love, I was convinced, and it was almost like she was aware of the power she held over me. She knew I could never let her go, no matter what she did, and that was why she decided to screw my best friend, knowing it’d hurt me. I didn’t think her efforts would have been successful because I wouldn’t have ever thought that my best friend could betray me like that. Even if Francesca had tried to make a move, it was a violation of the bro-code and he knew that.
As angry as I was, I knew he would come around to try to fix things, so I figured I would cling onto the one person who was actually interested in my well-being in the meantime. But Jamie turned out to be a traitor just like everyone else in my life lately.
“Hey, Patterson, there’s a little hottie in line,” I heard one of my teammates, Gabe, holler at me. I directed my attention to the hottie he was referring to, and frowned when my eyes landed on a boy. “Think you wanna kiss him, too?”
I sighed in frustration and turned away from the booth. “Funny,” I retorted dryly. The team had been making sure to remind me of my brief kiss with Jamie ever since it happened, and I knew this joke wouldn’t let up anytime soon. I didn’t care much because they were meatheads, but I certainly didn’t like what it was doing to my reputation. Francesca didn’t want to date me, and apparently, neither did the other girls at Summer Hill.
It was near the end of the day, and I was more than excited to go home if it meant I wouldn’t have to endure the endless torture that was my teammates and the entire student body. I was banned from participating in the booth since I was “bad for business”, so I was assigned the duty of counting the money off to the side while Gabe got to take the forefront for the day. It wasn’t like I totally minded that, especially since I wasn’t in any mood to lock lips with strangers when the universe was shitting on me.
Just as the sun began to set and the carnival goers of children, teens and parents alike were making their way to the overcrowded parking lot, I elected to stay behind to count the remaining money and wait out the swarm.
My thoughts drifted to Jamie, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t made an appearance at the carnival today. He made a habit out of showing up and appearing out of seemingly nowhere whenever he wanted to bother me, and even though I was sure our friendship was likely over, I had expected him to protest or do something that fit his character more than just … disappearing.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I didn’t need to think about Jamie because he didn’t matter. Francesca didn’t matter. Trey didn’t matter.
“Hey,” the sound of the devil’s voice broke me from my stupor. I looked up helplessly at the brown-skinned boy I used to call my best friend. Trey shoved a tray of fries covered in an unknown substance in my face. “Want some chili cheese fries?”
My gaze dropped to the fries, then flicked back up to his brown eyes, searching for any sign that he wasn’t being serious. He hooked up with Francesca behind my back and now he was asking if I wanted fries?
Fries?
“Fuck off,” I spat.
“Patterson–”
“No, fuck off. We’re not friends, anymore.”
Trey blinked, astonished. “Scar, I came to apologize to you.”
“Don’t want it.”
“Dude.”
“Dude.”
There was a long pause before he cracked a smile and continued to shove the fries into me. “You’re not you when you’re hungry.”
I opened my mouth to tell him how much I hated his very existence, but the way he continued to grin at me like he had just told the funniest joke that held no humor at all made my shoulders soften and I released a heavy sigh. “Okay, what’s up?”
“I know it looked like I was kissing Francesca at the party, and well, I was. I’m not saying that that didn’t happen, because it did, but uh … I had nothin’ to do with it. She came onto me, and I was confused because she’s your girl. I was tellin’ her that I wasn’t going to violate the bro code, but she went on about how you showed up with some girl from the cheer team.”
I quirked a brow and grabbed a fry. “Jillian?”
“Yeah, whatever, her.” He pushed his hands into his pockets and stood awkwardly. “Anyway, uh, I’m sorry. I would never do that to you, dude.”
I let go of a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding because this felt like such a relief. I didn’t want to believe that Trey would ever betray me in the way that he did, and I stood corrected. Maybe my life wasn’t that shitty after all.
“I know.”
He lifted his thick brows in surprise and threw his hand out. “So, we cool?”
“Yeah,” I said as I grabbed his hand and firmly shook it, donning a genuine smile that seemed to have lost its touch lately, “we cool.”
And just like that, so instantaneously, any thought of worry and frustration that I was clinging onto had whisked away. I had my best friend back.
▪▪▪
It was during the early hours of the morning when a thunderous clash coming from downstairs made me jump awake, startled. My eyes scanned my bedroom as though trying to get a sense of where and when I was before my hands actually started to scramble to tear the sheets away from my body. With quick and nimble feet, I scurried over to the closet to latch onto the baseball bat positioned strategically behind my winter coat.
When my father died, I rebelled against everything he stood for by trying to become an entirely different person, separating myself from him because it hurt too much to think about how much we were alike. I severed those ties by legally changing my name, cutting my hair so it no longer resembled the brown unruly curls that belonged to him, and burying any of the hobbies I picked up when he was alive. But it wasn’t like I was completely okay with shutting him out of my life, which was why my baseball bat still stood in my depths of my closet and my piano had moved to the attic.
I eased out of my bedroom slowly, carefully stepping over the creaky floorboards; my fingers felt the edges of the walls to guide me across the hallway to my sister's room. I pushed the door open gently, not bothering to flick on the light, and inched my way to her side.
“Amy.” I poked her shoulder.
She didn't budge.
I tried again, jabbing my finger deeper into her flabby flesh. “Amy.”
Nothing.
Sighing, I fisted my hands into her comforter and tugged it with all of my strength, causing her to roll out of the sheets. She woke up almost instantly and stared back at me with wild silver eyes. “What the fu-”
I clasped a hand over her mouth and shushed her. “There’s no time to curse. There’s someone in the house.”
“What?” Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “You mean, like a burglar?" When I nodded, she scrambled to her feet. “Oh my god! Mom’s downstairs.”
“Call the police.” I fished into my pocket for my phone and tossed it to her. “I’ll go check on Mom.”
She clutched onto my arm, holding me back. “No! Are you insane? What if you get hurt, or killed, or-”
I yanked my arm out of her grasp and made my way to the door with determination in my step. “It's what Dad would've done.” That seemed to be enough justification because she pressed her lips together and gave me a half-committed smile.
Feeling my way through the darkness as I hoisted the baseball bat over my shoulder, I slowly descended the stairs. A beam of soft yellow light coming from the kitchen caught my attention and I thought how stupid it would be if a burglar came to steal our food. Regardless, I kept my composure and put on my brave face as I descended the last step, cautiously heading towards the kitchen. As soon as the outline of a figure rummaging through our cabinets came into view, I abandoned all of my inhibitions, raised the bat over my head and prepared to charge towards the intruder, but I stopped myself in my long strides when I noticed the familiar long brown hair. “Mom?” I asked as I let go of the bat, defeated.
Her oceanic eyes snapped to mine almost instantly and her lips peeled back into an unsettling smile. “Oh, Scarlet, honey!”
I took in the sight of the shattered ceramic plates on the counter and the cooking pans spread all over the linoleum floor in an unbelievably messy fashion. Mom didn’t cook anymore; it was hard to believe that she would even step foot into the kitchen. “Mom, it’s five in the morning … what are you doing?”
Her eyes looked glassy, like she was in a different place. “What are you talking about, Scarlet? I always wake up this early to make your father breakfast.” She gave me what I believed to be a reassuring smile, but it was anything but. “I just can't seem to find the pan I always use to make those omelets he likes…” She grabbed onto fistfuls of her hair and frantically looked around the kitchen.
“Mom,” I scorned. “You threw that pan away because it reminded you of him. Dad’s not here. He’s gone, remember?”
She gave me a puzzled look before she fell into a hysterical fit. “Ah, don’t be ridiculous, Scarlet. Your father is in the bathroom getting ready for work. He should be out any minute, so you should probably get dressed in your uniform or else he won’t drop you to baseball practice.”
Oh, lord. “Mom!” I yelled at her as I stepped further into the kitchen. It was only then that I saw the empty alcohol bottles scattered across the floor. I wanted to be surprised, but it seemed as though I wasn’t capable of that emotion anymore. “You’ve had too much to drink,” I said, which seemed to be the answer to everything when it came to my mother. We all dealt with my father's death in different ways, but her coping method seemed to be the most life threatening. If it wasn't because she drank herself unconscious, then it was because she couldn’t fully function as a parent anymore.
She scoffed. “Scar, no, stop.”
I stared back at her in disbelief, stuck in a stupor. It was becoming more and more difficult to manage my mother’s alcoholism. The frequent hospital visits were getting expensive, especially since she was incapable of holding down a job.
“Mom?” I heard Amy’s shaky voice from behind me. One look at her confirmed that her eyes were just as glassy as our mother’s as she was on the verge of crying. I watched as she processed the scene before us, but I couldn’t have anticipated what happened next.
Amy dropped to the floor unexpectedly, knees hitting the ground with a thud, and her face making immediate contact with the hardwood floors. We both rushed to her side in that very moment, but it was me who had actually made the effort to try to wake Amy up.
I grabbed my cell phone from the floor and instantly began to dial Trey’s number. My mother just sat there, unmoving, with those distant glassy eyes and a dumb look on her face. “Scarlet, what is—”
“No, just … just be quiet. I’ll handle this,” I told her. Just like I was handling everything else in this household.
The phone continued to ring until it was obvious that Trey wouldn’t be answering. A curse fell from my tongue as I tried to find out how I was going to get Amy to the hospital with a concussion preventing me from driving and a mother who was too drunk to comprehend what was happening to her own daughter.
In a quick flash, Jamie’s face popped into my mind and I instantly shook away the thought, not wanting to deal with someone as sick and twisted as he was. He was the reason why everyone hated me at my school, and yet, my mind was still drifting to him against my own will.
“Shit,” I breathed out once Trey didn’t answer again, and instead, I found myself entering Jamie’s phone number.
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