Scarlett's Will by Nicole Jardine (i like reading .txt) 📗

He held my hand as he led me off the bus and into a crowd of people. It was as though I landed in another world. There were so many people here, all young and punk or goth. Spikes and Mohawks, shaved heads, tattoos, crazy purple and green hair colors, but the artwork everywhere amazed me. From sketches to paintings to sculptures. I stopped and looked at all of them as Buddy patiently nudged me along. At one point I felt his hand rest on my lower back and tighten as he moved me closer to him. I could hardly breath, all I wanted to do was turn and kiss him.

I continued to focus on the art and the strange people as he came to a stop in front of a group. A man dressed in black leather and chains sat in the middle of them. His hair had been spiked in so many directions I couldn’t help but wonder how he slept. Buddy walked away from me to talk to a guy in ripped jeans and long hair. He looked more like he stepped out of a Skid Row video than a punk show. I smiled when I caught his eye. I saw him grin as Buddy followed his gaze. I giggled when Buddy shook his head at him. “Mine,” I heard him say as the guy patted him on the back then walked away.

Buddy pulled me closer to him as he talked to a number of other people. Cash and small packages were exchanged numerous times throughout the day. When my mind began to feel like it finally rejoined my body again I caught on that Buddy was a dealer. It explained his nickname too I guess. I should have known. A guy dressed as he was, with psycho, anti society hair must be bad, but he hasn’t been bad to me. He had his chance last night and today, with me being so fucked up on whatever Dave gave me, but he didn’t. He hasn’t even kissed me yet. I sighed as I watched him work. He wore a different pair of ripped jeans today. The first rip on his upper thigh caught my eye. His jeans weren’t tight but snug enough that I could tell he has leg muscles and a nice ass. I grinned as I looked at his biceps. Gazing up further at his tense jaw, his full lips, his chiseled cheekbones and deep blue eyes. I rested my chin on my knees and watched him until I was interrupted by a girl with pink hair, who sat down beside me.

“So you are with Buddy this week?” she said slyly. I looked at her, hurt by the tone in her voice. “My name is Casey. I can tell you’re lusting after that boy, but I just thought I should warn you that he is a bit of a womanizer. Love em and leave em kind of guy. He’s super nice as a friend though. Sorry, what was your name?” she asked looking at me.

“Scar,” I said curtly, holding in my anger. I didn’t want to believe her, but what kind of guy asks a girl to go home with him after just meeting her. What have I done?

“Look, Scar, I’m sorry but you just look so young. I don’t want you to get too hung up on Mr. Romeo. Hey, you’re pretty cute too, I’m sure you’ll find a great guy one day,” she said as she stood, then walked away. I didn’t look up at her as I heard her say goodbye. I didn't look at Buddy again either.

He eventually joined me on the sidewalk and leaned back against the brick wall behind us. “Hey, what do you say we go grab some pizza and head home before it gets dark,” he suggested, reaching for my hand. I pulled away from him. Standing, I began to walk back towards the bus stop. “Hey, Scar, what’s up? What have I done?” he asked as he ran up behind me.

“I think maybe you should take me home tonight,” I told him as I tried to hold back my tears. He sat close to me on the bus but didn't try to reach for me again. I felt lost and alone, wanting to reach for him so badly but I restrained myself. I must hold onto some dignity. He didn’t say another word until he unlocked his apartment door and I entered. Closing it behind him, he walked past me. I heard him pick up the phone and order pizza. When he put the receiver down he pulled his tray out and lit another handmade smoke that I enjoyed so much last night.

He offered it to me but I refused. I heard him sigh as he crawled toward me. I’m sitting on the couch watching him as he places his chin on my knees looking up into my eyes, like a puppy wanting to be pet. I grinned, as much as I didn’t want to. He took this opportunity to run his hands up my legs to my waist and began to tickle me till I squirmed and laughed.

“Stop it Buddy, now,” I demanded of him, tears running down my face and not just from laughing.

“Scarlett, angel, what is it? What have I done?” he asked so sweetly, looking into my eyes again. He wiped my tears and held my hands in his, kissing my knuckles. “Is it my job?” he asked. I shook my head, I don’t like it because it’s dangerous but I could live with that. “I saw you talking with Casey, did she say something? Just so you know, she has been trying to get into my jeans since the third grade. You can ask Dave, he’ll tell you the same thing. She’s just not my type. I’ve told her