Scarred For Life

Chapter 3

2 weeks passed by of me and you-know-who avoiding each other. I suppose we may have been a little silly, acting like 4th graders again. But, it was for the best. He just wasn’t right for me. That’s why I wonder why we got back together. I guess it’s because of the chocolates. I can’t resist them. So I guess when Brad gave a box to me, I just forgave him. And anyways, I’d be lost without a guy. *DING!*

💓Brad: 10:03am
Hey Scarla!

Me: 10:03am
Oh, hey.

💓Brad: 10:04am
😟U k? U seem upset😖

Me: 10:05am
I’m not. 😐

💓Brad: 10:05am
😒 Yeah. k.

Me: 10:06am
Just shopping. 💵👜

💓Brad: 10:06am
😑 U love shopping.

Me: 10:07am
Not with dad.😶💩👎

💓Brad: 10:07am
That explains it...

I stopped in front of a clothing store to try a dress on and twirled around for dad.
I looked down at my legs.
“Too short?” I questioned. Not that he would know.
Dad looked at it, frowning.
“Too revealing.” He said flatly.

I sighed and put it back half-heartedly, then walked into the makeup store and examined a foundation.
“Scarla! Hey!”
I whipped my head around and stared at the person speaking to me. No idea who they were. I mean seriously, he was a goth. I never associated with goths. And his OUTFIT! Oh my GAWD! He wore a shirt that said:
‘Black Is The New Pink’. Like, how sad is that?

Anyways, dad looked at me as if I was from another planet.
“GOTHS?” He mouthed. I shrugged as if I didn’t care and sashayed up to the goth guy. He grinned at me as I approached. Funny. I’ve never seen a goth smile.
“Hey! How are you?” He exclaimed.
I flipped my hair behind my shoulders. “Uh, sorry, but I think the question is ‘who are you?’”

He blinked at me and looked disappointed. Then he perked up.
“Of course you didn’t recognise me with all this make-up!”
I frowned as I passed him a whiter-than-white face towel. 5 minutes later, it was blacker-than-black from his eyeliner. I took it off him gingerly. Then, as I looked at his face, memories washed over me in one humongous wave. God help me.

He cracked a smile and blushed.
“Damn it feels weird to see you again.” He looked at me and added, “And to take my eyeliner off. I never wanted to be a goth in the first place. But after we broke up, my friends told me that if I could survive as a goth, then I could survive without you… I guess it worked. Kinda”
I cleared my throat.
“Um… hey! I didn’t recognise you…” I stopped.
He looked expectantly at me.

I looked around me, trying to remember his name. Suddenly, I realised he was wearing a name tag.
“Ethan! Yeah… you look different! Work here?” I cringed at my fake enthusiasm.
Ethan shrugged.
“Sometimes.” He looked kind of depressed.
I whipped out my phone and gave it to him.
“Put in your number. I’ll text you.” I said.
He gave me his phone and typed his number into mine.

Dad was looking at his watch and muttering to himself. From my perspective, it looked like he was saying;
“Goths? Why goths?”

Ethan scratched the back of his neck and sighed.
“Well, I should really go… My break is now."
I nodded and started to walk out, glad that I could get out of there, when a big burly guard came up to me and picked me up.
“It’s a criminal offence to steal things missy.” He growled.
I gave a little scream. “What are you talking about?” And then I looked down. Sugar. I was still holding the foundation !

“Oh I’m sorry sir, I just picked this up and an old friend came up to me, and I just got really distracted!” I blabbered. “And I forgot that I was holding this! PLEASE DON’T LOCK ME UP! PLEASE!”

The guard loosened his grip a little and lookedat me a little sadly.
“Oh, that happens a lot. Happened to me a few times.” He chuckled roughly. “Don’t you worry missy, run along now and play.”

‘Play’? What does he think I am? Some stupid little 3-year old? Anyways, I scrambled out of his grip and ran out (without the foundation).
Dad grabbed my arm and dragged me into a corner.
He put his face so close to mine that I could smell last night’s garlic bread.

“How do you know a goth boy?” He snarled. “Who the heck is he? WHO IS HE?!”
I cowered away from him and tried to walk away, but he stepped in my way and slammed me against the wall. Hard.

“Who. Was. That. Boy?” He yelled. Spit showered over me like rain. Shoppers looked at us, concerned, then saw me and shouted for him to stop. And eventually, he did.