Emotionally Scarred

I
wish I could use magic to stop people staring at me, or enchant myself to be
beautiful, but the powers I have are different. I’m not a real witch, no matter
what the other kids call me
. I’m not a superhero either, despite
my powers. Heroes aren’t ugly.

The
lime-green shade of my new school’s corridors set my teeth on edge. Everyone
watched me, the new girl with the target right on her face. My sneakers squeaked
as I walked and I felt so completely conspicuous. Cruel laminate flooring. My
own body betrayed me as well.
I was taller than most girls, which
just made me easier to spot. I wanted to love my bright red hair but I hated
that it attracted attention to my face.

Other
students stared openly and gossiped as they pretended to poke through their
lockers. A tide of emotion followed their stares, the usual mix of sympathy and
disgust that I was used to. That was my superpower — to sense how people were
feeling, so strongly I felt their emotions burrowing into my pores. I hated it.
I hugged my new textbooks close to my chest.

Chin
up, Emma. Don't let them get to you. You're beautiful on the inside.

I tried to believe that my outer appearance wasn’t important
and that
real
friends would like the
real
me no matter how I
looked. But my intelligence made me as much of a target as my face. So I tried to
act like everyone else, dress right, talk right, do all the right things. I had
gone from child prodigy to C average, stuffing tests on purpose, half-hearting
my assignments, giggling mindlessly, and pretending I actually like music where
dudes sing about their sexy bitches. Anything to just fit in.

This year was supposed to be better. Operation: New Me. I convinced
my parents to let me change schools. By convinced, I mean I was expelled from
my last school when I got into a fight with this girl who wouldn’t leave me
alone. I had a weird adrenaline rush and broke her arm. Oops.

A little extra begging on top and my plebian parents finally
let me have the mole, the bane of my existence, removed. This was no cute
beauty mark, but a brown blob of ugly flesh that covered half my chin. That’s
why I was the witch of my last school. Marked by the devil, dribbling sewage,
just plain gross; I heard it all from the other kids.

If they also knew I could read their emotions like some kind
of freak…

So I was off to a new school, and in between, I’d have the
mole removed. Then it was meant to be like in the books, where a group of great
friends would adopt me and the hottest guy in the school would fall for me. I
wouldn’t be teased. I would be happy.

The whole plan plunged into epic fail. My parents didn’t
realize I needed a proper cosmetic surgeon for the work, to actually make my
face look like the mole was never there. Sure the doctor removed the mole, but in
its place he left a jumbo pink scar like a deformed fetus.

I came to this new school with a plan, determined to be
positive anyway. I dressed up, smiled, and waited for people to ask, wow, where
did you get that scar? And I would tell them crazy cool tales of my heroism,
saving a baby from a pit bull attack, only to have a chunk of flesh bitten off
my face. I’d say it was nothing. I did what I had to do. Beloved school heroine,
here I come.

I didn’t have a chance. Someone knew someone from my
previous school and gossip of my mole, and the botched removal attempt, became
the new school joke. It took no time for a mortifying “before and after” photo to
make the rounds. Not one student would even talk to me. Their hateful emotions
seeped into me like poison running through an IV, chilling my veins, making me
ill. I hadn’t escaped.

My eyes stung. No way, if I cried in the middle of the school
corridors, it was all over.

I turned to face the wall and got lucky. There was a notice
board right there, covered in fluoro fliers for me to pretend to read while I
got myself under control.

Just breathe.

The corridor stank of bleach from a recent cleaning. If
anyone saw my eyes damp and asked if I was OK, I’d say my eyes were sensitive
to the chemicals. I had an answer for everything. I just needed someone to ask.

“Since you’re new, I’ll give you some advice.” Someone spoke
in my ear, closer than I’m used to anyone getting. I shivered.

Rafael, who I’d already identified as the most handsome guy
ever
,
was leaning next to me. He had one elbow against the wall and his hand played
with his own sun-bleached hair. I don’t blame him; my hands would love to do
that, too.

Rafael had the looks of a 1950’s movie star and he knew it.
He played it up, wearing a leather jacket with turned-up collar like he was
James Dean and said things like doll, daddy-o, and swell. Yeah, I’d been eaves-stalking.
Just a bit.

And here he was looking at me, talking to me. What was going
on?

“Advice?”

“Don’t join the chess club,” he said.

I let what must be a dumbfounded expression stay on my face
and spoke slowly. “But… the checkered boards are so pretty, and I like the
little horsies.”

Rafael had the worn look of having to explain something to a
poor dumb girl and I worried I’d missed my shot. I raised an eyebrow
dramatically, hoping he got the point.

A moment passed, then he chuckled and I let out a massive
sigh. Internally. Externally, I kept my cool and gave a flirty-yet-coy grin. I
was stupidly proud of myself. Maybe I could do this. I was beautiful on the
inside, and he would be the first person to see. And really, I’d kick ass in
chess club, but I’d never let anyone know that.

“I’m Raf. That’s the other important thing you need to know,
new girl.”

“Emma,” I said. I extended a hand to shake his, leaving just
one to hold up my books. They shifted, and I rebalanced them in a way that squished
my boobs up into prominence.

“Oops!” I giggled as though I hadn’t meant to do the whole
thing. His smile in return was hungry, almost predatory. I could sense the
lusty excitement in him, but also something chilling, a darker emotion hidden
under his grin.

“Careful, you’ll need those, for, you know, learning.”

“No problem. I can shake hands
and
balance books. Get
me a job in the circus, I have the skills.”

The bell rang. Too soon… I wanted this to go on forever.

“Time to go, and you know, learn.” I rolled my eyes with
just enough eyelash flutter to be cute, I hoped.

“Better move. I don’t want to get you in trouble on your
first day.”

Right. I’d been here two weeks. Well, he’s noticed me now at
least. I had to give him a reason to remember me. Dare I?

“I don’t mind getting into trouble sometimes, if it’s for a
good enough reason.”

Raf bumped his shoulder into mine. “You’re a firecracker,
aren’t you? Say, you want to meet up after class? Hang out?”

My lips trembled. “Sure.”

“Come to Siren’s Haven. You know it?”

I nodded, casually, like I went all the time. The abandoned
set of a failed pirate movie, still standing down by the river. I knew of it
because Dad was big into collecting movie props. Tacky replicas mostly, but
real stuff too when he could.

“See you there at six, at the main pirate ship. It’ll be a
gas.”

This was too good to be true. I hated that I doubted this,
doubted that there could be anything about me he’d find attractive. I was about
to split apart, torn between hope and suspicion. I scanned my surroundings for
hidden cameras.

Jake headed off down the corridor. I skipped class, went to
the girl’s bathroom, and did the Snoopy Dance.

~*~

I took so long trying to decide what to wear that I risked
being late. I ended up staying in what I wore to school that day: sneakers,
black stockings with enough carefully manufactured runs to look every-day,
short shorts, and an oversized dusty-red sweater. I’d spent long enough picking
it out in the morning anyway and didn’t want to look like I was trying too
hard. All I did was change my bra. I also had other preparing to do, and the sweater
fit my plans.

I squeezed through the hole in the chain link fence and when
my top snagged on one of the cut wires I had a mini panic attack while getting
my outfit in order again.

Twilight lit the fake pirate town, turning grayed wood and
dusty weeds varying shades of lilac. I couldn’t lose the shakes that had been
with me since my conversation with Rafael. They only grew as I made my way to
the half-built pirate ship, propped up on blocks down the path. A rainbow of spray-can
lids littered the road and I kicked them along to try and distract my nerves.

Siren’s Haven had been abandoned two years ago when issues
with actor contracts tanked production. They closed up shop and left it all
standing while they tried to get back on track, but in the meantime it had
become a playground. I climbed up the weathered wooden ladder onto the ship’s
deck. Empty beer cans lay scattered about the remains of fires. A couple of old
lounges had been dragged in. A regular party destination for parties I never
got invited to.

Rafael waited for me, reclining on top of a cluster of
barrels like a real swashbuckler.

“Hey, sweet cheeks.” He rolled onto his side, shifted over,
and patted the spot next to him.

“Hey.” I strolled across the deck and paused at the barrels.
A foam mattress had been thrown on top of them. It made squishy noises when he
moved. Ew.

“Come on, don’t be shy.” Raf patted the mattress again and its
moldering stench reached me. “No pressure, I’m not going to try anything. I’m a
gentleman.”

“Can I admit something?” My voice quavered, but that was ok,
I was aiming for cute and vulnerable. But really I was super nervous about what
was going to happen. “I haven’t been here before. I want to have a look around.
Can you show me?”

“A tour? Sure, doll, sure.” He hopped down onto the deck
with a smooth jump.

The wood squeaked in warning under us, fragile and not meant
to have lasted this long. Rafael put an arm around my shoulder and led me to
the prow. I hadn’t expected him to touch me. My heart thudded. If he had put his
arm around my waist the game would have been over.

From the prow of the ship you could see the whole film set.
There were mermaids carved into the front wall of the pirate bar (which, like
most of the buildings, only had a front wall). Tall grass sprouted everywhere,
even from the façades themselves. There was a fake rock pool to our left, and
the place might have been pretty if it weren’t crumbling and trashed.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Raf breathed heavily into my ear.
“But not as beautiful as you.”

Where did this guy get his lines? I hated that they still made
my heart race, even though I had no reason to believe him. Before I could
mutter the obvious denial, he kissed me.

It was a small kiss on my temple, soft and a little cheeky.
I lost my breath.

“Hey,” he said, and turned me toward him. I let him move me
as he wished. He smiled down at me and it was a beautiful smile. His emotions
told me how excited he was. Excited, and smug.

He whispered in my ear. “Take your top off for me.”

The last fine cobweb of hope I’d clung to snapped. I knew this
was coming, but I clung anyway, and now I felt myself fall. I could stop this
and leave now, or I could follow through with the plan I had stupidly dreamed
that I wouldn’t have to use. Rafael saw my pause and misread my internal
conflict.

“It’s OK, you’re beautiful. I just want to see you.”

I nodded slowly and grabbed the bottom hem of my sweater,
lifting it up over my head.

I heard the cla-click sound effect of his camera app as I
dropped my sweater to the ground.

Hidden camera revealed.

He held up his phone, admiring the photo he had taken. “Grade-school
underwear, much?”

I had changed out my nice bra that afternoon for a plain black
sports tank.

I reached around to the back waistband of my shorts while he
examined his photography. I came prepared.