THE WOMAN OF SCARS
The strange boy stood outside.
Emily imagined that he waited for her, but not in a stalkerish way.
No, more in an “Our hearts will always be one” kind of way, which did sound kind of stalkerish when she thought about it.
In truth, he just waited for the bus.
She watched him from her bedroom window, twirling a strand of hair in a flirty gesture.
Again she was struck by how strange he was.
Not strange in a physically way, though. Physically, he looked kind of cute, in a dorky sort of way.
No, it was more like he didn’t fit in. As if he were some sort of space alien, who had recently landed on earth, and was still learning our ways and customs.
But that didn’t quite fit either, as most of the time he just kept to himself.
They had a class together, but he always just sort of faded into the background.
Most of the time, he had his face buried in some book, or like now, stared off into the distance, lost in thought.
Emily wondered if he even liked girls, and by girls she meant herself.
She had spent the better part of the summer finding reasons to bump into him. Usually he hung out at the library or at the store, and for that summer so did she. She’d even gone so far as to wear skimpy outfits (well as skimpy as her dad would allow anyway, which meant T-Shirt and shorts) hoping he’d notice.
All she knew about him is that he liked soda, Coke not Pepsi, he worked at the library part-time, and he like horror stories.
Now, they were both two weeks into their senior year, and still nothing.
She had tried to “accidentally” bump into him at school, hoping that would start a conversation, but met only with a wall of silence.
Any sane girl would probably have given up on him by now, but she felt some strange connection to him—maybe because he seemed so lost.
Emily sighed, and now stared at herself in the mirror.
The scars were still there, they hadn’t magically disappeared over night.
Back in her freshman she had developed a bad case of acne, which hadn’t exactly made her very popular.
The bad acne had continued throughout her sophomore year, finally clearing up at the start of her junior year.
But, in clearing up, it had left deep, red scars on both sides of her face. And like an infection, the scars had spread, reached down toward her chest, and leaving their mark on her upper back.
Nothing seemed to get rid of her scars.
Moisturizers, cold creams, acne pads she had tried them all, and nothing worked.
Not even make up helped.
Rather than cover them up, the make-up only highlighted her scars even more.
The dermatologist had said the scars would probably fade on their own.
But, even a year later, the scars were still there.
She had pretty much given up, and accepted her fate.
That is until the mystery boy showed up, and made her heart ache, and made her worry that she would never be pretty enough for a man to want her.
Emily turned away from the mirror, feeling very stupid for wallowing in self-pity.
Her dad had taught her better than that.
It was at times like this that Emily wished she had a mom to confide in.
But, her mom had died, a long time ago, and Emily really didn’t remember much about her.
Emily heard something tapping on the roof.
Outside it rained, rained hard, and her strange boy stood outside without a coat or even an umbrella.
Emily turned away, and bit her lip.
You need to stop being such a wuss, she thought. Go down and talk to him.
“But what if he rejects me,” she asked herself. “What if he makes fun of me?”
She touched the sides of her face.
“I’d die if he did that.”
God, she thought, you won’t know until you try. Maybe he’s scared too.
Emily cried out in frustration.
Umbrella in hand, she raced downstairs, not letting herself stop. Knowing if she did, she’d chicken out.
“Hi,” Emily said, and then gasped trying to catch her breath.
He looked at her strangely.
“Do you want to come inside me?” She asked. If her face hadn’t already been scarred red, it would certainly would be now.
“Whoops,” she said, laughing nervously. “Freudian slip.”
“What I meant to say,” Emily began again, “is do you want to come and wait inside with me?”
She started twirling a strand of her black hair in a flirty gesture.
But, her hair felt sopping wet, so instead she wrapped her hands around the umbrella handle.
He looked absolutely miserable, but hadn’t answered her question yet, and after a few seconds, she let it go.
“I’m Emily, by the way,” she said.
“I k-know,” he said, stuttering a little.
Nervous, shy, probably hadn’t talked to a lot of girls, or anyone else for that matter. These were the thoughts that went through her mind, as she quickly sized him up, adding adorable to the end of that list.
“My aunt and your dad are seeing each other…”
“Oh my god,” Emily said, interrupting him. “You’re Rosie’s nephew? Martin, right?”
Some detective she turned out to be. Her mystery boy practically lived right across the street.
She suddenly felt his eyes on her, and looked up at him.
He quickly averted his eyes, but she had caught him staring at her chest.
Emily wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or offended.
She chose to be flattered, as he looked absolutely adorable, and she really liked the attention.
Her thoughts now turned dirty. And she had half a mind to just hike up her skirt, bend over, and let him take her from behind.
You know, just skip over all that awkward, nervous “Getting to know each other” stage, and get straight to the stuff that make being in a relationship fun and exciting.
“I’d hardly call what my dad and your aunt are doing, ‘seeing each other’,” Emily said. “Rosie comes over maybe two or three times a week to spend the night, and my dad usually ships me off to my grandma’s house, so they can have some alone time. What goes on when they are alone is not something I even want to think about.”
Emily laughed nervously
He stared at her, which made her blush.
“Hope I look as good as Rosie, though, when I’m forty,” Emily said.
It was just an off handed remark, and she hadn’t even realized that she had said it out loud, but it sparked something in him.
“I think you look pretty good now,” he blurted out.
Emily’s heart raced. A boy had never said anything like that to her before, and it felt like a thousand tiny fireworks were going off inside of her, right now.
She bit her lip, to keep from laughing or crying out.
She wanted to dance.
To jump up and down like a little kid.
She felt wonderfully excited, and her hands shook wildly.
Again, the idea of hiking up her skirt, and bending over, so he could fuck her brains out crossed her mind.
He’d made her feel good, and she wanted to make him feel the same way. The way only a woman could make a man feel good.
Plus, sex would be a great way to work out all this nervous energy she felt right now.
Modesty won out, just barely, and instead she held out the umbrella to him.
“This is for you,” she said.
At the same time she arched her back, and pushed her chest forward.
If he’s going to look, she thought, might as well give him an eyeful.
She smiled, glad that she had made an impression.
Then bit her lip, doubting herself a little.
His hands shook, as he took the umbrella from her, and he nearly dropped it.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
Emily rolled her eyes.
Don’t apologize, she thought, it’s so annoying when men do that.
He opened the umbrella, and almost immediately put it over her head.
“That’s for you, silly,” she said, playfully touching his arm.
But he wouldn’t move it away.
Again she wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or offended.
Again, she chose to be flattered.
He had put her needs above his.
Not bad, she thought, as far as first impressions go.
Although, part of her wished he was a little more manly and a little more direct. But still, she practically swooned from all the attention.
She inched closer to him, so close they were almost touching.
He lifted the umbrella, so that it now covered both of them.
Was this his plan all along?
She didn’t think so.
More than likely it just sort of happened.
Again, Emily bit her lip, a nasty habit that she had apparently picked up in the last ten minutes.
And now, a new scenario ran through her mind, in which she innocently took him by the hand and led him inside to dry off. Now that they had some privacy, they innocently strip off their wet clothes, but one things leads to another, and it ends with her riding his dick while he sat in a chair.
Pretty sly, Emily, she thought wickedly.
Then more her more modest side asserted itself.
God, why am I having all these slutty thoughts around him? She thought.
Then more wickedly she wondered if he was having any sinful thoughts about her.
Given that he was staring at her chest again, he must have something in mind for her—something naughty!
Seeing him up close wasn’t exactly helping her maintain her innocence, either.
He stood at least a foot taller than her, but looked incredibly skinny.
She realized that the thing she liked about him most was his jet black hair. It looked even darker than her own hair, but cut short.
And with his glasses, he looked a lot like Clark Kent. Only, as her dad had pointed out to her numerous times, Clark Kent had blue hair, at least in the comic books.
An awkward silence passes between them, punctured only by an occasional sigh as she looked up at him.
His expression never seemed to waiver, and remained fixed in a sad frown.
Emily wondered if he ever smiled.
The sluttier side of came out again, telling her that a young woman could easily put a smile on his face, if that’s what she really wanted.
She shook these thoughts away, and tucked a few strands behind her ear (more successfully this time).
“Are you doing anything tonight?” She asked, surprised by her sudden boldness.
He shook his head.
“Um, well,” she started to say, but her earlier boldness had retreated, leaving behind the nervous, awkward girl from before.
She licked her lips, giggled (nervously), and tucked a few more strands of hair behind her ear. She did everything she could think of except actually talk to him.
“D-do you want to do something?” He asked, still stuttering a little.
She could kiss him, and still might if she could work up the nerve.
“Uh… yeah,” she said, flashing a quick smile. “My dad works all night on Fridays, and you could come over, if you want. We could…uh… watch movies, and I could make us something for dinner. I make a great pizza. And, do you like horror movies?”
She had nervously babbled most of that, and wonder if he had caught anything that she had said. She hoped he had, as there was no way she would be able to work up the nerve to repeat it.
She wanted to make this super easy for him.
She knew he didn’t have a lot of money, what high school boy did? And she wasn’t the type of girl who needed to be wined or dined, or showered with expensive gifts.
Besides, a much more intimate setting might led to much more intimate things.
He started to say something, but whatever it was, was lost to the sands of time, as someone called out her name.
Emily rolled her eyes.
Great timing dad, Emily thought.
“Emily!” Her dad called out again. “Where are you?”
“What time should I come over?” Her strange boy said.
But, Emily almost didn’t hear him, as he said it so quietly.
It took a moment for her to realize what he said, but when she did, it was like the entire world stopped.
Emily only came out of her trance, when she saw the hurt look on her face.
“I’m completely serious,” Emily said, and then as if reading his mind, she added, “This isn’t some prank.”
His features softened, and he almost smiled.
“Emily Elizabeth Noughton,” her dad called out for a third time. “Do you want a ride to school or not!”
God, she though, her dad could be so annoying sometimes.
“Eight o’clock,” she said, and then a sudden boldness struck her. Standing on her tippy toes, she kissed him on the cheek.
His face lit up.
“Emily,” her dad called out again. “This is the last time I’m going to ask you, young lady!”
“Alright, I’m coming!” Emily screamed back.
“Jesus,” she said under her breath.
She turned away, and almost immediately felt his eyes stare at her ass.
If all goes well, she thought, you might be doing more than just staring at it, mister.
Halfway up the driveway to her house, she turned and waved.
“Don’t be late!” She shouted.
He nodded, and waved back.
His bus pulled up, and then he was gone.
Well, that certainly was a lot easier than I thought.
Giddy with excitement, she skipped all the way up the driveway, and back to her house.
TO BE CONTINUED...