Skater Boy

Chapter 7

Well That's Not Part of The Plan

Scarlet

Its been two months since mother and father put me under house arrest, which I'm surprised has lasted this long but Mason and I were sending each other little notes and things but it wasn't the same as actually spending time with the man. God I miss him. His guitar pick was hanging heavily around my neck and my stomach launched. Making me run to my ensuite. I threw up what little food that I had contained during the last few days. The little blue box that Cleo dropped off a few hours before was staring at me on my sink.

Fuck.

Fine.

My toes were numb, and I couldn't move, I didn't want to move from my window seat. I could see Mason's house from my spot, his half-pipe in the driveway, his skateboard lingering on the law, his motorbike nowhere to be see. Why is is that the only house on the street that looks even remotely normal, has toys and what not littering the yard, and a half pipe in the driveway. I'm going to have to tell him, I so desperately want to tell him, I need to tell him, but this wasn't conversation I could have over the phone.

"Scarlet Renee Miller!" mother's voice rose as she burst into my room, father was standing behind her, his silent presence was making my skin crawl. "It was bad enough when we found you in bed with that boy! And then you met his family, stayed away for a night without telling us! But to find this buried at the bottom of your bathroom hamper."

She waved the purple and white stick that was wrapped in toilet paper.

"Mother this has nothing to do with you." I spoke, my voice unrecognisable to even myself. "and what have you been doing? Lurking in my bathroom?"

"Don't you take that tone of voice with me young lady." Mother's face was changing from a controlled pale to a harsh crimson.

"Is that why you locked me in my room?" I asked not taking my eyes off the only normal looking house in the street. "because you don't approve of Mason? Fucking hell what century are we in?"

"Scarlet! You do not use that vulgar language!

"Scarlet, this has nothing to do with that Williams boy." Father finally spoke, trying to take control of this conversation and of my mother.

"This has everything to do with him!" my own voice rising, but not moving from my seat.

"Will you get away from the window!"

"No."

"Damnit Scarlet! Get away from that window, before the neighbours seen you..."

"Or before Mason sees me?" I snap back.

"Just get away from the window." Father's voice broke through, it was the voice he used with only his toughest clients.

Reluctantly, I slow get down, my pyjama pants were longer then my legs, the fabric brushing the floor boards as I walked. My shirt, one of Mason's with his band's logo on the front, it was loose and hung a lot lower then my ass. My hair unwashed and in a messy, dirty bun, strands of it hanging down my cheeks. I looked like I had just rolled out of bed after a big night out.

Standing in front of my parents, I dared them to say something... anything. Father let out a heavy sigh. "Listen Scarlet, something like this," he waved at my stomach, "this could ruin your future, your dream career, your freedom-"

"So what?" I interrupted. "you just want me to get rid of it? Like it never happened?"

"How DARE you Scarlet!" mother screeched. "I don't care what you think of us, but how could you accuse us of being such monsters? We expect you to carry the child, and then give it away one born.