Leading me further into the abyss, Jeremy squeezed my arm out of comfort, but I felt like I was a zoo animal, put on display as I walked between them. I leaned into their sides and kept my eyes plastered to my feet. I wanted to crawl back in my bed, pull the covers over my head and never leave. Girls were staring and snickering while spitting out the word bitch as I walked by. A few guys came up, slapping hands with Jake, asking who I was and Jake hadn’t missed a beat.
Standing in the middle of the crowded hallway, he released an ear-piercing whistle, getting the students’ undivided attention. Then announced to the student population that I was his long lost sister and if anyone tried to fuck with me, they would know exactly what a broken nose felt like. My anxiety immediately multiplied and it was all I could do to keep myself upright. I was completely mortified; this was not how I had pictured my first day going.
Looking back on that first year makes me laugh hysterically and the boys are always rolling when we talk about that year. I was a completely different person back then. I was withdrawn and avoided any confrontations. Several months in, I remembered the promise I had made to myself when I had been rescued from my stepfather and that was to be a fighter. With the help of the guys, I learned how to channel the anger that was pent up in my body for ten long years and started to fight back.
The first fight I had was six months into my sophomore year when a snobby, uppity bitch got a glimpse of my scars while I was changing into my sweats for gym. Normally, I changed in the restroom or before anyone even came into the locker room. I was sure if there had been a world record for fastest dresser, I would hold it, hands down. I wasn’t comfortable looking at myself in the mirror—seeing the constant reminder of my childhood—and I sure as hell wasn’t comfortable letting a stupid skank look at them, either. At all costs, I wanted to avoid the conversation of their origin. I honestly don’t remember what the girl said exactly because the moment the first insult left her mouth, I lost it. The bottle holding all of the anger, hurt and rage burst inside me and I funneled all those feelings into my fists. Running across the locker room, I tackled the girl to the ground and pounded her face. It was liberating to finally release the demon that lived within me. She had lain on the cold floor, covering her face while I kept driving my fists into her. After a couple of minutes, Mr. Jamison broke up the fight and I was sent to the office. From that day on, no one commented about my scars and, like I had wanted all along, they became invisible. Unfortunately, this was also the first time I was suspended. Reggie was not pleased, however he still gave me a proud pat on the back for defending myself for the first time in my life.
My reverie is broken when I realize lunchtime is coming to an end and I stand to stretch my five-feet-seven-inch frame. I lift my arms straight over my head while closing my eyes, letting the sun warm my skin until the shrill voice of Vanessa Baker and her cronies causes my eyes to pop open again. Vanessa’s hyena laugh makes my skin shudder all over and her face pretty much has the same effect. She’s an average height, rainbow-haired, emo bitch who wears way too much makeup and way too tight clothes. Other than the boys, Vanessa was the first friend I made in public school. She spent a lot of time at my house; listening to music, talking and watching movies. A month after we became friends, Vanessa started dating Jake. For the first time, her selfish bitch persona was revealed. One fateful afternoon, Jake defended me in an argument instead of her and we’ve been at each other’s throats ever since. Needless-to–say, their five minute romance was over when my fist collided with her face.
I turn to Jake and decide to poke a little fun at him. “I can’t believe you dated that train wreck,” I say while motioning toward Vanessa.
“God, why are you always bringing that shit up? We dated for a week like two years ago. It’s not like I bagged her or anything.”
“I don’t think I would claim you if you bagged her, bro,” Jeremy casually mentions while carving pictures in the picnic table with his pocket knife.
I look over and smile when Drake lets out a loud, bellowing laugh while inhaling his third sandwich. Jeremy doesn’t say much, but when he does, it’s always a classic.
Jake leans over and punches Jeremy in the shoulder. “Shut up, jackass. Don’t worry about who I’m bagging. I’ve got the bitches lining up around the corner to see what this is all about.” Jake grabs a hold of his manhood and gives it a little shake to let everyone know what he’s working with.
“Jesus, Jake! I’m going to lose my lunch,” I say as I begin to gag.
Vanessa and her troop of skanks begin to circle the girl seated by herself at a small table. She’s trying to ignore their rants by attempting to be engrossed in her book, but I can tell she’s getting agitated with every word. Her deep brown eyes are widening when she realizes they’re surrounding her. The small girl begins to gather her things, quickly shoving her book and other miscellaneous items into her backpack.
“Whacha reading, little girl? A book about how to make your face not look like a retarded squirrel,” Vanessa heckles into her ear.
She grabs the girl’s backpack and begins to dump its contents all over the table. The girl bows her head down and balls up her fists. I keep my eyes glued to her, hoping she’ll slug that stupid bitch in the face, but she just sits there and continues to let Vanessa humiliate her. Then, one of Vanessa’s followers takes her water and dumps it over her head, soaking her sweatshirt and hair.
I pull my arms behind by back and begin to rub my thumb over a deep scar on my left wrist. A habit I formed once I was truly free of the handcuffs. At first, I constantly rubbed the scar until my skin was raw and starting to chafe. I’m not totally sure why I did it then; everything in my world had been tipped upside down, and I suppose the pain was my way of knowing I was really alive. Currently, it’s only a habit when I’m irritated, and right now, Vanessa is doing a stand up job of annoying the shit out of me.
Enough is enough. Someone needs to help this poor girl out. Plus, it’s been a long time since we’ve had it out. We’re due for another bout. Right?
I readjust my favorite Alice in Chains concert t-shirt, and pull my black sun glasses down over my eyes. I motion to the guys with my head where I am heading.
I hear Drake’s cautious tone in my ear. “Reggie will be pissed if you get suspended again, Darcie, I wouldn’t do it.” He warns as I start to make my way over to the table.
“He’ll get over it. Besides, I haven’t got in it with her for like…six months.” A small grin stretches across my face when I think about the satisfying feeling of punching her in her loud mouth.
“Darcie!” Jake yells to my back.
“I’m not going to fight her. I just want to help the poor girl she’s torturing.” I give the guys my best Girl Scout salute and wave them off as I approach the table. The boys hate when I fight, knowing how pissed Reggie gets, but sometimes, I need to let off some steam. Ever since my ordeal, I have so much anger built up inside of me that it’s hard not to let it out on someone. Especially when that someone is Vanessa Baker.
The girl has her head down and is trying to frantically put her things back into her backpack. Water is dripping off her head and I ask, “Are they bothering you?” As I draw her eyes up to me.
“Um…I’m just trying to get to class.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Look who it is. You’re looking pretty good, Darcie, you know… for a flat-chested, crack whore.” Vanessa seethes in my direction and then smirks toward the girl cowering at the table.
I keep my face even, but on the inside, my anger begins to boil like molten lava. “Well then, Vanessa, it’s good your tits have gotten so big. It takes the attention away from the catastrophe you see in the mirror every morning.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, Vanessa stomps around the table, and we’re standing nose to nose. Her breath is a horrible combination of mint and garbage. “You better watch what you say to me, bitch, before I knock you on your ass.”
Now a lady
has two choices when it comes to dealing with emo skanks like Vanessa. One, think of yet another witty comeback, insulting one of the many disgusting things about her;or two, take the mature route—turn around and walk away with your head held high.
Fuck it, I never claimed to be a lady. With my left fist balled, I reach back and slam it into her side. She buckles forward, gasping for air. Before she rises up, I connect my right fist into her cheek. She collapses at my feet, cradling herself in her arms. Vanessa’s cronies run to her side, but know better than to challenge me. If I have to, I’ll fight dirty and they’re fully aware of that.
I turn on my heels and start heading back to my friends who are clapping with appreciation. I can hear Jake’s loud roars and obscenities shooting from his mouth. Drake is laughing through his food, and Jeremy just smirks, giving me an appreciative nod of his head.
The petite girl runs to my side with her eyes as wide as saucers. “Why did you do that?”
Shaking my fists out, I let a slight grin stretch across my face and I answer nonchalantly. “Because it’s fun. You got a name?”
“Presley Quinn.”
“Nice to meet you, Presley. I’m Darcie Claiborne. Welcome to Sulfur Heights. Come on, let me introduce you to some of my friends.”
Darcie ~ Age 14
It’s been three days since the man with the blue eyes saved me. He brought me back to his house where the bed is incredibly soft, smells of cologne and is warm. The food is hot and feels good in my stomach. It’s been so long since I’ve felt satisfied after I eat a meal. As I lie on the bed, it’s hard for me to move off my stomach. The pain in my body is intense and I can feel the tears building with every movement, but I’m mostly feeling terrified. Not from my knight or the pain, but of what Robert will do once he finds me.
A part of me hopes he believes I’m dead. In reality, a part of me is dead; the weak part of me died three days ago in that house and the fighter was born the moment I opened my mouth to scream for help.
I hear a lot of chaos traveling down the hall. It sounds like male voices and I’m wondering if I’m in a boy’s home or something. I have yet to see a woman come take care of me. So far, it’s only been the man who calls himself Reggie. I call him knight, because he’s my savior.
The door opens and Reggie walks through. He approaches slowly and then kneels down beside my bed. “I have some people I want you to meet. Are you feeling up for it?” he asks with a gentle voice.
“Uh, sure.” I slowly roll to my side and sit up on my butt. Reggie extends his hand and I grasp it, helping myself to my feet.
When we approach the living room, three boys are sitting on the sofa. Two of the boys are identical to one another with matching dark brown, buzzed hair, brown eyes and small builds. The other boy is a little shorter with mocha colored skin, huge, chocolate eyes and a big toothy grin. They look to be the same age as me, but who knows. This is the first time I’ve been exposed to anyone outside of my mother, Robert and our house staff since I was four-years-old. I clutch the knight’s large hand and tuck myself behind him.
Reggie kneels down to me and meets my eyes with his. The moment we connect, I feel at ease. “These are my brothers. They live here with me. This is Jake and Jeremy. They’re fourteen, about to turn fifteen, and this is Drake who’s eleven.” Reggie points to each one as he introduces them.
I look over at Reggie and ask, “Don’t you have a mother?”
Reggie looks down momentarily and then replies, “Nope, it’s just us.”
I stare at the three, wide-eyed boys on the couch, look at all their faces and then I suddenly feel something I haven’t felt in a long time, relaxed. I can’t explain the feeling, but it’s just there. My intuition tells me these four, motherless boys are going to take me on an interesting journey and, for the first time, I’m excited.
“Hey girl, you got a name?” asks one of the duplicate boys. Jake, I think.
“Mar…Darcie Claiborne,” I stutter, almost telling them my full name. The one I despise. The one he uses. In that moment, I choose to go back to the name I used before he came into my life.
My mother felt some allegiance to her dead mother, so she named me Margaret. She admitted to me, one drunken night, that she hated her mother and hated my name; that’s why she referred to me by my middle name. I shortened it to Darcie, but once she met my stepfather, nothing else mattered, especially me.
“What kind of name is that, Mar-Darcie. Sounds pretty, fucking stupid to me,” Jake says as he laughs under his breath.
“Jake!” Reggie shouts then turns and smiles at me. “Sorry about that. Tell us your name again.”
“My name is Darcie,” I snap with irritation toward this loud mouth boy.
“Reggie…she just better not talk about periods and vaginas, and all that other stupid girl shit. I will puke. I swear to God, I will.” The other duplicate, Jeremy, stands and punches Jake in the shoulder. Drake stays on the couch and tucks his feet under his legs, laughing hysterically. Next thing I know, their rolling on the floor, punching and kicking each other. Confused, I stand next to my knight and allow his aqua eyes to take me away to my salvation.
Chapter 2
Darcie
We head over to the table where the cheers are getting louder. I bow in dramatic appreciation, and motion for Presley to come meet everyone. She seems a little nervous as she unzips her wet sweatshirt and gives it a shake. Presley then tries to tame her saturated locks by running her tiny hands through them and quickly securing it in a ponytail behind her head.
“Guys, this is Presley Quinn, a Sulfur Heights newbie,” I say, pointing to her timid frame “Presley, this is Jeremy, Drake and Jake.” I gesture to each one individually while she gives a shy wave with her right hand.
Jake is the first one to break the silence. “Presley, huh… where’d you get a name like that?”That’s our Jake, a big mouth that lacks any kind of tact. Drake slugs him in his shoulder and he rubs the sore spot while shooting him a death glare.
Presley looks over to me for a moment and replies with a barely audible voice, “I’m from Memphis. My parents were big Elvis fans.”
“Well, that’s cool, I guess. What grade are you in, Presley?” Jake inquires.
“I’m a sophomore.”
“Drake’s a sophomore; he probably has some of your same classes,” Jake states, slapping the giant sitting to his right.
Drake looks over the olive-skinned beauty and gives her his killer smile. Presley’s cheeks flush red and she instantly looks down to shield him from seeing her reaction. There’s an instant chemistry between them and I hope it’s a good one. Drake has never been stopped in his tracks by a girl before, usually he’s pulling them off him, but Presley is different. I can sense it and so can he.
The bell sounds, alerting us it’s the end of our lunch period. I smile in relief that half of my day is over. I just need to make it through my afternoon classes and I will be free of this place for the weekend. I nod to Presley and she moves forward, following me into the building.
“What class do you have next?” I wonder if she’ll be in any classes with us.
“I have English with Mrs. Lenox.”
Drake swoops in and does what I was hoping he’d do. “I’ve got English next, too. Here, walk with me and we can go to class together.”I look over to Drake and mouth thank you in appreciation. I’ve only just met Presley, but I am sensing she needs someone to look after her. I’m not sure if it’s her tiny frame or her meek personality, but something about this girl tells me she is in need of protection. I know that feeling all too well. I’m not sure where I would be today if someone hadn’t protected me.
The rest of my day is uneventful as I move through the remainder of my classes. I mostly doodle in my notebook and tune out everyone around me. When Vanessa walks in to journalism class with the side of her face black and blue I let out a disruptive laugh. She has tried to cover up the bruise with a layer of foundation; however, the attempt only makes
it look worse.
“Bitch!”Vanessa seethes and sprints in my direction. She charges at me, knocking me off my chair and I topple to the floor banging my elbow on the hard tile. Before I can stop her, Vanessa’s fists are connecting with my gut. It’s all I can do to get this crazy train off my lap. Mr. Harrison rushes over and pulls Vanessa off me, panting with every breath he takes. When I begin to rise to my feet, I give Vanessa a swift kick to the midsection, knocking the wind out of her and causing her to double over in pain.
“Darcie!” Mr. Harrison yells. “That is enough. Get yourself down to principal’s office, now!”
I collect my books and brush my hair out of my face. I glide toward the classroom door and look over to Vanessa still being restrained by Mr. Harrison, giving her a wink before I push myself out the door.
I leave Principal Robinson’s office with a five day suspension as well as a stern lecture about fighting in school and how it won’t be tolerated. I’m looking forward to having the next week off, but I am not looking forward to facing Reggie when I get home. He’s gone out on a limb so many times before to keep me enrolled in high school. Let’s face it; it’s not the best way to start my senior year.
I stand by the car and wait for the others to come join me so I can go home. I definitely do not feel like going to The Slab tonight because, if Vanessa is there, it’ll only end up being a repeat of what happened today. I look up through my tinted sunglasses and see my boys moving toward the car. Jake is his usual animated self; he’s hopping up and down like he’s riding a pogo stick while landing fake punches to my gut. “Way to go, Rocky. You got your ass suspended again.”
“Yeah. Come on, let’s go. I’m sick of this place,” I complain as I wait for Jeremy to unlock the car. When Drake opens the door to the south entrance of the school, he’s accompanied by Presley. She is so tiny compared to Drake that she looks like a child when standing next to him.
“Presley is going to hang with us tonight. Is it cool if she stays with you?” Drake asks with a little pleading to his voice. I’m really not in the mood to entertain someone tonight, but Drakes dimples are a too hard to resist.
Scarred Love Page 2
