SCARS

by Jaimie Roberts

  I sigh as I open the door. “Yes, you’re right. Someone has been placing a lily outside my door for the past six months.”

  She gasps. “Six fucking months! Jeez, Lily. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I wait until she walks in before shutting the door behind us. She looks perplexed. “I don’t know. I guess I thought it was you, Max, or even Jerry who was doing it for a while. Then, when none of you owned up to it after a month or so, I thought it couldn’t have been. None of you three would be able to pull a prank like that for so long without fessing up to it at some point. After that, I just got used to the flowers coming. I didn’t tell you because so much time had passed. It was just easier not to in the end.”

  I place my bag down and she watches, following me up the stairs. “You mean to tell me that every day someone has been leaving a lily outside your door for you?”

  Once we get to my room, I open my door and we both sit down on my bed. I pick up my cushion and start playing at the edges with my fingers. “Not every day. Just during the week.”

  She frowns. “Why just during the week?”

  I shrug, but look away. “I guess because he knows that I’m the first one home during the week.”

  I feel her scoot up closer to me on the bed. “Shit, Lily. Why didn’t you tell me this before? It’s him, isn’t it? It’s got to be. What else has he done?”

  I close my eyes for a moment. I’ve come this far now. I guess I will have to tell her the rest. “He’s been texting me.”

  Her eyes widen. “Can I see?”

  For some reason, I really don’t want to show her. They’re private messages between him and me. It’s stupid really.

  Why do I not want to show her? He’s a stalker and the more she knows about him, the better, right?

  I sigh and find myself shaking my head. “I deleted them.”

  She huffs, throwing her hands in the air. “Why would you do that? It’s evidence, Lily. Shit, you need to use your brains a bit more.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just I was reading one the other day and my mom was getting too close. I pressed the wrong button and the conversation just disappeared.” I don’t normally lie. I hate liars. But I find them easily rolling off of my tongue when it comes to this guy. Is that a bad sign? For some unfathomable reason, I feel safe when I’m with him. The whole thing is just foolish on my part.

  “You need to start keeping evidence.”

  I see her stern face, so I nod my head in agreement. “Of course. That goes without saying.”

  “And we need to find out what he’s up to. What he wants. If it’s to be your boyfriend, then all he has to do is ask you out on a date. What he’s doing isn’t normal.” I think about her statement and the realization hits me… I must not be normal myself. Not if I’m actively encouraging this guy. Not if I’m letting him touch me in places I’ve never let anyone touch me before. None of my actions make any sense. “I have a plan,” Christine says, interrupting my thoughts, “but I will hash the details out with you once I see my surprise.” She smiles and starts jumping up and down on the bed. “Come on, give it to me!”

  Her eyes are like those of an excitable child. “Okay, okay. I’ll get it. You stay right there,” I say, pointing to the bed and getting up. “In fact, close your eyes.”

  She groans and pouts her lips. “Do I have to?”

  “Yes. Now, do it, or you’ll have to wait longer.”

  She smirks at me. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  I wait until she closes her eyes before rushing to my closet to grab her dress. I pull the box out of the bag and walk back to Christine, who surprisingly still has her eyes shut. I place the box down on her knees and step back. “Now, open.”

  She opens her eyes and stares down at the box. When she sees where it’s from, her eyes widen slightly in surprise. She looks up. “What have you done?”

  “Open it and see.” I point to the box again, and her attention is drawn back to it. She very carefully pulls the sides up, places it down on the bed, and pushes the wrapping paper aside. Once she pulls it up, she looks at it in surprise before glancing up at me.

  “Why did you—“

  “You looked fantastic in it, Christine. The dress has your name written all over it. It looks like it was made for you. I just wanted you to have the dress that you practically own already. It wouldn’t have been right for you not to.”

  I wait in silence as she stares at me and then the dress. Her eyes start pooling with tears, and I can’t tell whether she’s happy or if she’s angry with me. “I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

  I shake my head and sit down next to her. “Please. I really want you to have this. Besides, it’s your birthday soon. Consider it an early birthday present.”

  She shakes her head. “But I saw how much it—”

  I place my hand on her arm interrupting her. “I had some savings, and I wanted to get my best friend a present. I got it on discount for buying the two anyway.” I’m lying again, but I don’t want her to think that I paid the full price.

  “You bought that one you were wearing?”

  I nod my head. “Yes, and both were discounted. It just wasn’t showing on all of the dresses yet. She told me that they hadn’t put them on the tags yet.”

  Without warning, she puts the box aside and grabs me for a big hug. “Oh my God, Lily. Thank you so much! How am I ever going to repay you?”

  I swiftly stroke her back. “You already do with your friendship.”

  She pulls away, looking guilty. “And a shitty friend I’ve been so far, huh? You bought me this dress and within minutes I was shouting at you.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, but you didn’t know.”

  “I still shouldn’t have done it.”

  I concentrate on her blonde locks for a moment, stroking them behind her back. “It’s water under the bridge now. Forget it. How about instead, you go into my bathroom and try your dress on. I’m dying to see you in it again.”

  She bites her lip, squealing. “Okay, but only if you do the same with yours. You get dressed out here and let me know when you’re ready.”

  I nod my head and Christine rushes off, carrying with her the dress and an air of pure animated enthusiasm. It makes me smile. I like seeing her happy.

  With my silly grin, I grab my dress from its hanger and proceed to get dressed. Once I’m ready, I shout for Christine. “Two seconds and I’ll be out,” she shouts back. I hear the door click, and she emerges wearing the dress that does indeed look like it was created with her in mind. Seeing her in it again just cements the idea that buying it for her was the right move in the first place. She looks beautiful. “I feel like a princess,” she says, smiling.

  “You look like one too. I told you it was made for you.”

  She runs over to stand beside me, and we both admire our dresses in the mirror. Even though I’m not one for dressing up, I’m enjoying this moment with Christine. It makes me realize that this is what friendship is all about.

  “We’re gonna rule the school,” she says, quoting Rizzo from Grease.

  We both start laughing. “It’s going to be one hell of a ball.”

  She turns to me, grabbing my arm. “Oh! We haven’t gotten our masks yet! Let me get one for you. It’s the least I can do.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t be silly.”

  She squeezes my arm. “Please.” She flutters her long eyelashes at me.

  “Okay,” I say, laughing. “When shall we shop for them?”

  “If not tomorrow, then definitely Wednesday.” She starts rubbing her tummy with a frown. “My stomach’s still a little off. I think I may need to use your bathroom. Be back in a bit.” She runs off, leaving me to get dressed back into my comfortable jeans and sweater. Once Christine emerges, she shuts the door behind her and starts waving her hand in the air and pulling a face like there’s a bad smell. “I wouldn’t go in there for a few minutes if I were you.”

  I put my hand up. “No problems there
then. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nods her head. “Sure. The doctor says only another day or two. I will see how I feel about school in the morning. How are you getting to school, though?”

  “I have Max taking me. He asked me earlier.”

  “So, you and him are okay?”

  I nod. “Yes, we’re good.”

  She smiles. “Good.” She points to the bathroom with a frown. “Oh, by the way, I put your toilet paper roll on the right way.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. “What?” I ask with a laugh.

  “Your toilet paper wasn’t on correctly. It was under instead of over. I just thought I would let you know that I put it back on correctly.” I raise my eyebrow and say thanks like it was a question. “You’re welcome,” she chimes like it was nothing. I never realized Christine was OCD.

  Once satisfied, she skips over to the bed and sits down next to me. She suddenly turns to me with a glint in her eye. “Now … about that plan.”

  Thursday afternoon, I leave school with Christine, and we take the trip to Old Brody’s house. It’s called that because of some rumors that a guy named Brody slaughtered his entire family there before shooting himself. I tried searching for it on the internet, but never got any hits. The original story was probably just about a guy who left his wife, and it just progressively turned into him slaying his entire family. It was just your typical game of Telephone. Stories change a little—word by word—with each telling until they are completely different at the end than when they first began being shared.

  As we make our way, Christine turns to me for a second. “Are you ready?”

  I nod. “Yep. He said he would be there.”

  She nods. “Good. Now, the plan is that I’ll hide in the bathroom upstairs and you can wait for him in the living room.”

  “I think I can remember all that,” I smirk.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “About luring my stalker to an old, unused house where he could possibly kill me? Yes.”

  She starts laughing, but pulls something out of her bag. “Don’t worry. I have this if you run into any problems. Remember, I have your back on this. I will be watching both you and him. I can’t wait to see what he looks like.”

  I take the mace from her hand and stare at it. “Are you allowed to carry this stuff if you’re under eighteen?”

  She shrugs. “I will never use it unless I have to. Our safety is what counts.”

  I guess so. A part of me thinks we are crazy for doing this, but another part of me is excited about seeing him again. I have been sleeping with his bandana since Saturday, but unfortunately, it’s already losing his smell. I am kind of hoping to get that back today.

  My, my, what is wrong with me?

  I’m seriously deluded. This relationship—or whatever you call it—is anything but conventional. It’s nothing but wrong, and yet I can’t help feeling that it’s right. Everything about him sucks me in.

  “We’re here!” she sings, making me jump. “Wow, you really are nervous.” She then spots the bandana and frowns. “What’s that?”

  “It’s just to cover my eyes with.” I then roll them. “Am I seriously messed up in the head? Why are we doing this again?”

  “We’re doing this so we can finally find out who this mystery man is.” She opens the door. “Come on, we have to get inside and start setting things up. He’s going to be here in under an hour, and he can’t see me. I’ll scare him off.”

  I follow her to the steps of the old, creaky house. It looks like it was once a beautiful home, but with time and neglect, it’s lost the character it once had. The wood is untreated, and the flecks of what used to be a beautiful yellow color have turned into the dullest shade of dirty gold. The windows on the outside look almost black and the curtains from the inside look like they’re hanging loose. The first step creaks under our combined weight as we approach the door. Christine bends and starts digging through some soil in a plant pot by the door. It’s the only thing that looks new and fresh.

  “Here,” she says, standing up and holding a key in front of us. “I bought the plant so I could hide the key inside.”

  Christine told me about this place nearly three months ago. She found the key underneath the mat and decided to use it as her “make out pad” as she calls it. This, however, is the first time I have decided to come here myself. Christine’s “make out pad” is not somewhere I’ve had a burning desire to visit before now. Now, though, I’m using it for my own make-out session.

  Do I want to make out with him?

  I internally nod my head, yes. Yes, I do. I want to feel those soft, warm, wet lips of his on mine. I want to feel his strong hands caressing my bare skin. I want to inhale that minty pepper smell that I haven’t been able to shake since I first experienced it a week ago.

  Christine puts the key in, but has to use a bit of brute force to push the door open. Once it gives way, she turns to me with a smile. “I guess it’s been a little while since I used this place.”

  As we walk inside, we kick up a cloud of dust, which catches in my throat, causing me to nearly choke. When I’m able to speak again, I take in our surroundings and say, “Wow, this place really seems to be abandoned.” I take a look at what was once a truly grand staircase. I can tell it was just by looking at the once dark, but now faded mahogany wood which elegantly sweeps up to the first level. “Do you know who really used to live here? The true story is definitely not about a family which was slaughtered here. I looked it up.”

  Christine scans her eyes over the place before looking at me. “I don’t know, but whoever they were had quite a bit of money. It’s almost as grand as your house.”

  I smile curtly at Christine. She doesn’t come from money, and I know that hurts her. I purposefully redirect any conversation about wealth away from her because I don’t want to upset her. In my opinion, she is the kind of girl who should have been born into wealth rather than not. She is definitely high maintenance. No matter what, though, she is my friend, and we look out for each other. Just like she’s looking out for me now.

  “Thanks for doing this for me.”

  Christine looks over to me with a smile. “No problem! I’m actually looking forward to nailing this sucker. Can you imagine if he ends up being someone we know?”

  I frown. “But how can that be? Who do we know who has tattoos?”

  She gives me that “Are you stupid?” look again. “Anyone can wear fake tattoos, Lily. You’ve seen me wear them at times at parties and such.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I guess. It just seems like he’s going to a lot of trouble to remain anonymous if he is.”

  She shrugs off my comment and moves toward the living room. “Now, you said you would meet him here, right?” I nod my head. “Okay. In the next few minutes, I’ll go upstairs and hide in the bathroom until he gets here. Once he texts you, let me know. I’ll wait a couple more minutes and then come down. Okay?” I nod again, my heart rate picking up even more.

  What will happen once he gets here?

  I have no clue. It both frightens and excites me at the same time. “I’ll make sure I turn my phone on silent just in case.” I blow out a steady breath. “Don’t be nervous. I got you.” Christine walks over and places her hand on my arm. “It’ll be okay.”

  A few minutes later, Christine disappears, leaving me alone in the room. It’s just as dusty in here as it was in the hallway. There’s a sofa, but I don’t want to sit down on it. The only other piece of furniture is a table with a dusty white patterned cloth over it. It looks like other things were here, but have since been moved.

  I take my phone out and text my secret admirer to let him know that I’m here and start to wander around the room. It’s vast, but lonely looking. I’ve never felt so sorry for a house until now. It looks as though it could be beautiful if given a little TLC. As I step towards the fireplace, I run my finger along the top and watch as the dust gathers along my finger. It’s only once I see the
clean line that I notice the scribbles.

  Time stands still

  I notice there’s more, so I blow the dust until the rest of the sentence becomes clear.

  On this day.

  “Time stands still on this day.” What does that mean?

  My phone bleeps, making me jump out of my skin. I chastise myself for getting so spooked and reach for my phone. My heart skips a beat when I see it’s from him.

  SMIHG: I will be there in 5 minutes. Be ready for me. Don’t forget to be in the dark.

  I know he means I need to blindfold myself. I can’t believe I’m contemplating doing this, never mind actually doing it.

  I sigh. I’ve come this far. I reluctantly leave the childlike scribble and pull the bandana out of my pocket. I quickly text Christine that he’s coming in five minutes and then place the bandana over my eyes.

  I must be crazy. Why did I agree to do this with Christine? Why did she even coerce me into doing this? It’s madness.

  I wait in pure agony as impatience, fear, and excitement creep up my spine. I’m picking up on every little noise now … even the lightest of breezes coming from outside. My sense of hearing is heightened, and my pulse reacts to it exponentially. My face is flushed, and I can feel my legs trembling at the thought of seeing him again.

  I laugh at the thought. Seeing him? I have yet to “see” him. Hopefully, today will be the day. I wait for only another minute or so, but it feels like hours. At first, all is silent, but then I hear the creaky sound of footsteps moving across the floor. On instinct, I raise my hand to take a look, but a hand on my wrist halts me. “Shh,” he whispers. “It’s me. It’s only me.”

  I chuckle. “Only you. I don’t even know who you are.”

  He tugs at my wrist, pulling me to him, and his aroma hits me right away. That scent! It does things to me that it shouldn’t. He’s like a drug, and I need more of him. More of his fragrance, his taste, his touch. My logic floated out the door when he came in and was replaced by this needy girl who aches for more than he should give.