Scars

Eight

"Stas?" I questioned, pulling her attention away from her phone, "who are you texting?"

"Brian..." she trailed.

"Really?" I asked, "are you like trying for round two or something?"

"I am trying for round two, and three, and fifty," Stas winked, "what about you though?"

"What about me?"

"My name isn't Christopher, it's Dreamy Eyes," Stas mocked, "what's the deal with that?"

"Have you ever wondered why we're all born with scars?" I asked.

"We all hear the rules as a kid," Stas shrugged, "when you fall in love with the right person, the scar goes away. What is there to wonder about?"

"I've always thought it was bullshit," I admit, "how is some unknown universal power supposed to know who the right person is?"

"Because it's an unknown universal power," Stas laughed, "you didn't always not believe in it ya know."

"And then James came in and ruined my life," I rolled my eyes, "but I don't know."

"So what does this have to do with Dreamy Eyes?" Stas asked.

"When I met him, something weird happened," I began.

"That's called getting turned on, it should happen when he's hot, which he is from what I've seen," Stas laughed.

"Shut up," I scoffed as I threw one of my couch pillows at her, "when he paid for his drink, his hand brushed against mine, and it was like he lit my skin on fire. That has never happened to me before."

"Really?" Stas asked, realizing I was being serious, "what else has happened that's new since you met him?"

"I can't get his stupid adorable face out of my mind, for starters," I admit, "but he somehow takes all of the control away from me without even doing anything and it's infuriating."

"Do you want my honest opinion?"

"Always," I smiled.

"It sounds like you are about to fall so hard in love. Like he's going to breathe, and you will start tumbling down the mountain of love," Stas watched me carefully.

"I don't even know him," I shrugged, "so unless I'm falling in love with Mr. Scott, I doubt it."

"No, you're falling in love with Dreamy Eyes without a doubt. I'll make you a deal," Stas smirked, "two weeks. I want you to text him and meet up with him, get to know him. After two weeks, if you don't feel anything more than you right now, I will agree with you that the scars are bullshit."

I thought about her offer for a moment. Get to know him. I don't let people in, basically ever since James, maybe it was time to start again.

"Deal," I agreed "now tell me about Brian."

"Not until you text Dreamy Eyes," Stas instructed.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my phone off of the coffee table. I found Chris' contact and sent the safest text I have probably ever sent in my life, getting a response in just seconds.

Me: Hey

Dreamy Eyes: Hey bartender. What's up?

Me: Stas and I are having a girl's night, what are you up to?

Dreamy Eyes: Jimmy and I are working. So you're thinking of me during girl's night? Should I be flattered?

Me: Extremely, would you maybe want to hang out sometime?

Dreamy Eyes: I'm free tonight

Me: I can't tonight actually, but tomorrow afternoon I'm free

Dreamy Eyes: I'll see you tomorrow

I looked up from my phone with my smile on my face, looking over at Stas.

"Well?" she asked.

"We're hanging out tomorrow," I informed, "now tell me about Brian."

"We're having fun." Stas shrugged, "but he's exciting. Maybe that's just the appeal of sleeping with the boss, but it's kind of a rush."

"And what about him as a person?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Aren't you attracted to him as a person too?" I asked, "because, yes Brian is hot and anyone can see that, but what about who he is?"

"I thought you didn't believe in love," Stas smirked.

"I don't," I confirmed, "but shouldn't there be more to attraction then just physical appearance?"

"I don't believe you for a second that you don't actually believe in love," Stas laughed, "what happened to the girl who took no one's shit and who has a cold, dark heart."

"Trust me, she's still right here," I laughed, "but what's the point of getting with someone if all you've got is physical attraction?"

"It's called hooking up," Stas laughed.

"But don't you want more than that?"

"Maybe eventually," Stas conceded, "but for now, I'm hooking up."

"Whatever you say," I smiled, "do you know what I miss?"

"What's that?" Stas asked.

"Burgers and milkshakes after school every Friday, going to prom, making cupcakes at 3am and having food fights, having sleepovers," I sighed, "life was so simple when we were able to do those things together. Before I met James."

I poured myself a second glass of wine and relaxed deeper into my couch. We haven't had a night like this in more than a year, and it was so needed. A knock on my front door interrupted my relaxation. I sighed as I stood up and walked to the front door, grabbing my wallet before I pulled it open.

"Hey little sister," Ashton smiled.

"You're not pizza, what are you doing here?" I asked, "and you have a key, why are you knocking?"

"Because I knew you were having girl's night and I didn't want to just barge in."

"For the first time ever," I laughed, before I moved to let Ashton in.

"So why are you here?" I asked as we walked into the living room.

"I want you to tell me the truth about that Chris guy."

"Finally," Stas cheered, "yes Nat, why don't you tell him what you told me."

"What did you tell Anastasia?" Ashton asked, mocking Stas for her full name.

"Chris and I are hanging out tomorrow," I shrugged.

"Yeah, not even close," Stas butt in, "she's falling in love with him and she calls him Dreamy Eyes. When they're hands touched, she said it was like her skin lit on fire."

"You're such a bitch," I rolled my eyes.

"Why wouldn't you want me to know that?" Ashton asked.

"Because you're an overprotective mess, except when it comes to your friends hitting on me. I don't want you to chase him away."

"I wasn't protective over you when James came around and look what happened, can you blame me for wanting to make up for letting you down then?" Ashton asked, "I won't chase him away unless he needs to be. You know the code, if anything starts to go wrong, you text me 9-1-2. Do you remember why?"

"Because it's more important than 9-1-1," I sighed, "Ash, I'm twenty-three, I can take care of myself."

"You can, but that doesn't mean you should have to little sister," Ashton smiled.

My phone vibrated with another text from Chris, and before I could read it a pillow smacked me in the head.