Love Like Blood

It was the first day of my senior year in Catholic school, and I was blessed this would be my last year in this shithole. As i walked through the hallways, and everyone dispersed, I kept having this feeling that my life as going to change this year, and I was really excited for it. Being the daughter of the most popular pastor in town wasn't the coolest thing ever. Everyone expected you to be prim and proper and nothing less than that. Little did they know I would be the complete opposite of who they thought I was, and hated being "normal"

I walked into the building with my black on black converse creating a squeak sound with every step I took. My thick frame shaped by incredibly tight blue jeans and a slim fit, but large galaxy tank top, my natural brown skin shined and my face had only thick black eyeliner and bit much of mascara, my long curly brown hair bounced around and I made sure to make a beeline to my homeroom. I did not want to see my so called “friends” right now, it would only drop my mood.

You see in Catholic schools there’s barely any to no change from the constant routines that have been instilled in this place for centuries. It literally was the same shit every fucking day. But something big was going to happen, I just knew it. I had just gotten to my homeroom for the year when I discovered I was the first one here like usual. I had to keep up this goody two-shoes act for my father and the rest of the people. I couldn't slip at all. But I did mix it up a bit often, since there was no watchful eyes on me I decided to sit in the back of the room instead of in front like the good student I was. I placed my binder and my bookbag on the desk, and patiently waited for everyone to file in.

Around 10 minutes later I noticed that an incredibly tall, slender boy walk into the room blasting Slipknot. I smiled because that was one of my favorite bands. You see I love, love, love rock music I just have to pretend that I don't. I’m fucking ecstatic that I’m eclectic because I’d shoot myself if I had to be forced to listen to rap all day long. I noticed that a mysterious boy was walking in my direction and didn't seem to notice my creepy staring at him. He had long, jet black hair, drawn on eyebrows that were perfect, and snake bites and a vertical labret that I would not mind biting at. He was a gorgeous creature that I could stare at all fucking day long. He sat down next to me and I didn’t stop staring. He was just too gorgeous.

I immediately felt myself grow curious about him when I seen that is body language change to look like he wanted to turn around and say something to me but he was conflicted. I waited a few more seconds and then turned away, seeing that he might not want to say anything to me. Finally, he turned and opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it closed.

“Yes?” I finally spoke to him seeing as he might be shy.

“Uhm, it’s just... Scar, why are you sitting in the back? That isn’t like you,” he spoke to me.

I was taken aback by the sudden comment about my seating arrangement of the day. But then I realized that he called me Scar. Only Chris called me Scar, but no ones seen or heard from him after the incident with Ian in the 7th grade.

“Because I felt like changing things up a bit, is that a problem?”

“No-No-No it’s fine, Scar. It’s-It’s fine,” he said to me, scared of how I reacted.

He really didn’t sound anything like the kid I knew in all my life up until the 7th grade.

“Just so I’m reassured about this and not just assuming. Chris is it really you? or am I dreaming and just tripping major balls right now...”

He chuckled a bit, “ Yes, it’s me Scar.”

My heart broke all over again and I couldn't believe that it was actually him. The tears immediately fell down my cheeks, probably fucking up my eyeliner but who gives a fuck about that right now. I was so excited that he was back here with me. I missed him so much and I don’t think I could deal with how much he’s changed.

“No, Scar. Please don’t cry, I can’t stand to see that beautiful face of yours sad,” he said to me as he pulled me into a tight hug but it felt that he was still being so gently with me. I missed him so much even after all the pain I caused him over the years because of my father. I immediately felt this strange feeling of butterflies flapping in my stomach and I didn’t know why. Chris kissed my forehead and I felt the butterflies flap harder.

When I was small my mom always told me that if I had butterflies in my stomach whenever I was with a person that throughout our time of knowing each other it’s been a constant fight to stay together then that meant there was love there, and love was always broken apart by others. The only problem is that my mother never felt that way for my father, that’s why she left us but I decided to not think about that sad time in my life.

“Ya know, Scar. I forgive you for what happened years ago. Even though for 4 years I was so angry with you, but you were little and you didn't know that your father would have made it so big and dramatic and didn't understand why I would tease you, and also that dickhead Ian for beating me to a pulp. It wasn't your fault and you couldn't have predicted the future. So it’s okay that things happened that way. Surprisingly I'm happy it happened that way,” he spoke softly to me. I kissed his cheek and he blushed. I made a mental note to myself to find out what he meant by that later on.

The bell rang and we got off of each other, I fixed my runny mascara and eyeliner, then grabbed his hand and whispered in his ear that everything was going to be alright. Everyone that belonged in homeroom with us came in and Chris went back to being quiet and stared at his desk with full concentration and interest. I giggled at the sight and kept tight hold of his hand. I recieved weird stares but I didn't give a shit.

Suddenly, my ex-boyfriend/guy that makes my life a living hell/who hates Chris with every fiber of his being/asshole football junkie walked into the door. I seen Chris look up and tense up, I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles in small circles and felt him slowly become less rigid. I still have no idea why I dated this asshole while he was bullying Chris, but I did and it was the worst mistake of my life. He was the reason Chris had his little accident and left the school, I was the only one who knew that seeing as my cousin works in the hospital where they took Chris in and told me what had happened. And even though Ian looked like the dreamy, perfect, typical high school sex beast, he was a complete shit head idiot. As you can tell I’m very animate about how I feel about him, which is nothing but disgust and hatred. He can kiss my caramel colored ass for all I cared.

Ian noticed my disgusted face and sent me a cocky smirk. He strode over to my desk and suddenly stopped when he noticed my brown skin against Chris’ pale snow white skin that was still intertwined with his hand.

“I know you liked caring for others, but damn ‘Lett,” he spoke.

“Don’t talk to me, Ian,” Chris flinched at the sound of his name.

“Fine, but you didn't have to be such a bitch,” Ian said to me harshly and pushed my pen off of my desk, he walked away and was close to his normal seat with the other idiots on our schools football team.

“Chris, he’s gone now,” I said softly while rubbing his hand with my thumb.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Scar,” he spoke timidly.

“It’s going to be alright, everything’s going to be fine, Chris,” I said a little louder this time.

Ian was at least 5 feet away and I seen him get up and walk back over to my desk.

“What do you want, Ian?!”

“Is that bitch ass, Chris Cerulli?” Ian said with a chuckle in his throat.

Chris looked up at him and I seen anger flash in his eyes and I swear they turned blood red.

‘’Yes, it’s me Stone. The fuck do you want?” Chris said with a lot more confidence than I took him to have.

“You’re gonna pay for the balls you think you have, Faggot.”