Just Tragic

MY NAME.

CHAPTER ONE: MY NAME

Okay, let's say you meet someone--like a total stranger, but you guys just click. Your small talk has elevated to a meaningful conversation. There comes a point in your conversation where you have to introduce yourself, which means you have to tell them your name. So, obviously, you tell them your name.

Except I don't. It's not that I am ashamed of my name, I am rather annoyed. No, don't get me wrong, because Scarlett is a beautiful name. And Scarlett Johansen is a beautiful person. But my name is also Scarlett Johansen. And I absolutely, thoroughly, robustly hate that look people give me when they realize I look nothing near to the actress Scarlett Johansson.

As a matter, I am receiving that look right now.

"Oh, so are you, like, related to the real Scarlett Johansson?" My new friend, Mindy, asks me with an eager smile.

"No," I notify her, but she doesn't believe me for some reason.

"But your name is Scarlett Johansson," she confusedly reasons with me, "Oh, I know!"

Oh my gosh.

Is she trying to explain my own name to me?

"You must be, like, Scarlett Johansson Junior! Like, Martin Luther King Junior, right?" Wrong. You're dead wrong, girl. Before I can even say anything, she speaks again.

"But you don't look like Scarlett Johansson. So, how is that your name?" It's my name because as soon I resurrected from the womb, I automatically knew how to speak English and I begged my parents to name me Scarlett Johansen.

Mindy, I had so much faith in you, but you somehow let me down. If we weren't family--it's a long-distance-cousins kind of thing and they just flew in from Australia--then, I would have discontinued our little friendship instantly.

However, being that I am probably seeing you the next family reunion, there is no way I can cut you off without your side of the family giving me dirty looks.

"Like, your hair is dead black. Like, black licorice black." I didn't even realize she is still talking. We are still on the matter of my name. Mindy, get over it!

Honestly, why is this girl about to sue me for literally being, me?

"It just..it just happened Mindy. You can ask my parents," I monotonously laugh, and trying hard to hide my annoyance with a smile. I can tell she is a little weirded out from the way she nervously laughs, and eventually she just drops the topic.

"So, where--"

"Scarlett!" My mother interrupts me and I don't whether or not to thank her or to be afraid of whatever emergency errand she's probably going to ask me to run.

"Scarlett!" My mother calls me again, and I give Mindy an apologetic look before quickly running downstairs.

I head for the kitchen, smiling occasionally to an aunt or uncle who I make eye contact with but barely know.

"Uh, yeah?" I ask as soon as I reach my mom. She's working on the marination for the chicken we are about to grill. Next to her was my Aunt Cheryl who I mistakenly make eye contact with, but there's no escaping now.

"Oh my...if my eyes haven't been blessed enough from seeing little Gabriella!" Aunt Cheryl literally cages me in her arms.

"Madison, you look absolutely wonderful!" I saw her a month ago, but she does this every time we see each other.

She partially dips her head to face my mom to whisper in the most loudest voice, "Wow wow, seems like little Madison lost some weight!" I cringe when she pats my stomach with a wink, but quickly recover when I pass my mom "the look."

"Oh, Madison, honey, can you just run by to the Darsons and invite them over? I told Martha I'll give her a real barbecue as soon as summer rolls around." Before I can say anything, she turns to Aunt Cheryl.

"She threw a barbecue sometime last year and let me tell you that woman does not know what seasoning is." My mother is truly some kind of forty-five year old gossip girl. But I know she means well. I think.

"But mom, I can't." I seriously cannot go there; you see, the Darsons have a beautiful boy and I mean BEAUTIFUL, and I simply can't go there.

"Scarlett, do not be immature. You know what? Take Mindy with you too then!" My mom cheers and I defeatedly sigh. At least I have someone with me so there's not much attention on me solely.

"Yeah, sure," I nod and return back to the room where I left Mindy.

"Hey, I'm going next door to invite a family. Wanna' come?" I ask and Mindy doesn't even think about it before agreeing and zooming out the door.

*
"You can do the talking," I tell her as if that was special to do. Mindy is only a year younger than me--I'm sixteen, and she's fifteen--but an hour with her showed me that she is much more open to people than I am.

Oh, but just wait until she meets Mason. I don't want to wish anything bad on her, but he's a tough one to talk through because you would probably be too busy fawning over his perfect jawline.

It's good for my health that he attends a private school instead of Malbury or I would have totally flunked every class of high school without a doubt.

We walk up the little pathway to their contemporary-styled house and Mindy rings the bell once.

While waiting for someone to open the door, I notice a glaring dab of flour on my black pants. No way! Not today when I'm seeing Mason.

As I quickly try to rub this flour off, the door opens. Whilst, I hear Mindy coughing. Wow. He's so hot that made her cough? That's a first.

Suddenly, I stop brushing my pants off because I too need to cough. In fact, I am about to choke to my own death. I quickly look up and see someone who definitely is not Mason.