Scars of Your Love

When I got to school, the hallways were quiet since everyone was in lessons. I crept to the bathroom and splashed my tearstained face with cold water. I shivered. Silently, I went back out into the corridor and headed to Maths. “Ah, Stella Casey. Care to explain why you’re so late?”
“It’s Shona,” I said, sitting myself down next to Vegas, “I was at the dentist.”
“Do you have a note?” I hated that. Why did we always need a note? It’s not like half the notes are even written by parents. Kids can forge signatures can’t they? “Nope,” I said calmly. Mrs Birch rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you at the end of class Miss Casey.” I sighed as Mrs Birch went on about simultaneous equations and all that. “Where were you?” whispered Vegas. “I went to see Bolton, didn’t I?” He nodded.
“What did he say?”
“Not a lot,” I mumbled.

Maths eventually finished and everyone rushed out of the door. Looking down at the ground, I pushed to the middle of the crowd and made for the door. “Not you Miss Casey!” Mrs Birch called. I rolled my eyes as I stepped cautiously towards her desk. Mrs Birch was a tall slender woman in her mid-twenties. Her brown hair was neatly plaited and her heeled shoes only made her look taller. “Shona, this is the third time you’ve been late for my class. It’s unacceptable.”
“Sorry Miss but like I said, I had to go to the dentist.”
“So if I phone your mother, she can confirm this?” I looked down at the floor again and fiddled with the zip on my bag. “Miss Casey, can you tell me your mother’s phone number?”
“No.”
“You might as well; your records are only in the office.”
“That’s fine. You check the office but you won’t find it there.”
“And why not?” My face went red as I desperately tried to think of an excuse. She could phone my dad, but he wouldn’t know whether I’d been or not. I decided she would be best calling the home phone. Vegas or Will could answer for me. I quickly read out the number.
“There we go. Tell your parents to expect a call around four thirty tonight.” I nodded before rushing out of the classroom, making a point of slamming the door behind me.

After school that day, Vegas, Will and Dotty came back to mine. We knocked for Bolton on the way. “No, I’m not really in the mood to go out,” he said. I glared at him. He shook his head. “You guys go, we’ll catch up in a minute,” I said to the others. They obediently crossed the road and headed quietly towards my house. “No Bolton. You can’t avoid me anymore. Get dressed and let’s go!”
“But…”
“No!” I screamed. He rolled his eyes before trudging upstairs to get ready. He returned a few minutes later and we headed toward my house. “Why did you run off this morning?” he asked. I knew perfectly well why I ran off but I wasn’t planning on telling him the truth. “I couldn’t be bothered to listen to your bloody excuses anymore.”
“It’s true. Why else would I avoid you?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.” He laughed. I hadn’t heard him laugh in ages – not since Saturday anyway. God, Saturday seemed like years ago. “I’ve missed you,” I said, giving him a hug. He smiled. “You’ve changed your tune.” I shrugged.
“Maybe I can’t be bothered to argue with you anymore.” I looked up at his face, and for a brief moment, we caught each other’s eye. He held my gaze for a few seconds before turning away. He did that laugh that I loved and it only made me want him more. I swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump forming in my throat. “You alright?” he asked. I nodded. “What did Miss say about you being late?”
“I told her I went to the dentist but she wouldn’t believe me cos’ I didn’t have a note from my parents. She’s phoning home later this evening. Vegas said he’ll sort it.”
“Oh.”

During the next few weeks, things seemed to get worse and worse. Bolton constantly disappeared off, sometimes with the guys but usually alone. He kept phoning Den and I became increasingly worried. He was older than us; he didn’t want to spend his whole life with people younger than him. He was finding friends of his own, maybe even a girlfriend of his own. We all became distant and when we were together, there were more awkward silences that there was conversation. Countless times, I came close to telling Bolton how I felt but I always backed out. We weren’t the kind of people to talk about feelings and emotions. We just got on with it. Dotty just pressed on and on and whilst I know she was trying to help, it only made me feel worse. I couldn’t carry on like this so I eventually made my decision.