Chapter Twelve

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This chapter is dedicated to Across_The_Tracks because she spammed my inbox with comments (okay, it was, like, 4 or 5 -_-) in a day and I really appreciated it! Thank you ♥



The next morning at breakfast, Marie somehow decided to be the nosiest step-mother of all the step-mothers in the world.

"Are you sure you're okay, Genevieve?" she asked for the hundredth time. "You look very pale. Are you sure you're not coming down with something? If you want, I can drive you to the doctor. Wait Genevieve, are you late on your period? Did something happen? Oh sweetie, you can tell me anything!" she gushed.

I resisted the urge to dump milk into her face and straightened up in my seat, giving her a big, overly happy smile that was faker than Nora. "I am fine, Marie." I said. It wasn't like I was lying. I was feeling pretty okay, which was surprising when you consider seeing your first dick the night before. The rejected feeling had brushed off, now that I finally realized I did not have a single chance with Scar. It was better to think about him without that glimmering hope.

Before Marie could go off again, my father came into the kitchen looking ruffled. I noticed he had bags under his eyes, and I was pretty sure I looked the same. Lately, my sleep pattern was off by a couple hours and it was killing me slowly, even more so on the days we had school.

"Good morning." he grumbled. Marie said something back, but my devilish mind had other ideas.

What would it be like if Scar liked me back? It was stupid to dream about it ever happening, because it never would, but I couldn't help the thoughts that floated up. Would he like me for me or would he dump me for a perfect girl? Like...Nora? Probably. No one could ever compete with her, least of all myself. It was a joke to even think about that.

But what if I did try? Not to win Scar's heart but to look pretty? I could do that if I tried. After all, the power of makeup was limitless. I didn't own any cosmetics of my own, but I could always borrow Marie's. Girls who were pretty accomplished more, I noticed. It's like people treated them better because they looked good. I hated that society was so focused on appearances, but hey. If you can't beat them, join them.

"I'm going to be late for school." I said, getting up. My father nodded without glancing up from his newspaper. I forced a smile on my face until I could get out of the kitchen. I went upstairs and locked the door.

I tried to convince myself that I wasn't doing this for Scar. I went to the closet and looked hopelessly at the clothes hanging there. My wardrobe consisted mostly of sweaters, hoodies, sweatpants, and baggy jeans that never fit me right. The floor was covered with hightops and sneakers, and one pair of nude heels that Marie bought for me. There were a few dresses that I never wore unless I absolutely had to, but they were too fancy for school.

I tried to think about what Nora would wear. Probably a mini skirt, tank top, and leather jacket with heels. I had none of those. Staring into the horrific mess that was my closet was getting me nowhere. There had to be something! Marie brought me many girly things in secret hopes that I would be a little more feminine.

There was a yellow fabric sticking out from an ugly brown parka in the back. I reached for it and after many careful tugs, I managed to pull it out without ripping it. I stared at it in distaste. It was a summer dress, light and airy with white polka dots. The dress was short, to say the least, and sleeveless with a thin strap on each side. My mouth frowned down. It was the middle of winter.

But I was running out of options and time.

I quickly stripped down and forced myself into the dress. As soon as I zipped the back up, an uncomfortable feeling quickly took over. The dress came up mid-thigh, exposing more skin than I would have shown at the beach. The bodice clung to my stomach, and my chest was accommodated with the built in push up bra. Biting my cheek, I finally dared look into the mirror.

It wasn't....bad.

I mean, the dress was a bit too short for my taste. It was way out of my comfort zone, but I couldn't say that I didn't look good. The skirt was airy and fell gently around my milky skin, and my boobs looked bigger than I had ever seen them. I pulled on a jacket over the dress.

I decided to not to wear heels. Maybe that would overdo it. I stuck with my good old hightops. I plugged in the hair straighter. When it heated up, I mentally cursed myself as I forced my frizzy hair to be straight. When it was as sleek and shiny as it could be, I shoved the straighter back under my bed.

Did girls really do this every morning?

I slipped out of the room and went into Marie's. Her dresser was filled with cosmetics. I was actually scared, to be honest. I picked up a black stick that said eyeliner and slathered it on my eyebrows. It didn't feel right, for some reason. I thought back to how Marie did her makeup. There was some kind of black line she always had on her eyelid. So...eyeliner means you're supposed to line your eyes with it?

Ugh.

I wiped the hot mess off and started over, putting the eyeliner on my eyelid. It was thicker than I wanted but it could pass off as natural. I started on the eyeshadow. Marie had color over her eyeliner. Praying to God that I was doing it right, I brushed off some white powder and put it over my lids. Then I started on the mascara. Luckily, I knew what it was for. When I finally got the length of my lashes that I wanted, I put the cap back on and stared at my reflection.

A girl stared back at me. She was...well, she was beautiful. Her hair was straighter than paper, her blue eyes accentuated by the makeup. Even my lips looked fuller and more red, although I didn't put anything on it.

I went back to my room and grabbed my backpack. I slung the bag over my shoulder and went downstairs. I would have rather died than to let my father and Marie see me like this, so I simply left the house. I made sure to close the door firmly so they would know I left.

The cold air was freezing, even more so in the morning. I hurried to school as best as I could without turning into a Popsicle, although I was close. Shivering, I finally made my way into the building. I stood there in the warm air, relieved.

Unfortunately, I had already attracted the attention of the people that were already there.

I walked down cautiously, feeling shaken. With every step I took, more and more people turned towards me. I could hear low whisper start up. I glanced nervously around me.

Nora and her friends were leaning against the wall, staring at me with disgust? Admiration? I couldn't tell. She whispered something to the red head beside her, keeping her cold eyes trained on me. Around them were the football players, all wearing the same maroon varsity jackets and all staring at me. I saw Nora slap the arm of her current boyfriend when she noticed that his eyes were locked on me. A small smile tugged my lips.

Maybe I was in denial about not having feelings for Scar. Just maybe, I was smiling because my new appearance made Nora feel threatened, and I was glad to have some kind of leverage against her. Maybe if I knocked Nora off her high all mighty pedestal, Scar would actually feel something towards me than her.

Pathetic, I know.

The halls were starting to clear now as the first bell rang. I made my way to my locker, still getting the feeling that everyone was staring at me. Trying to act like it didn't bother me, I spun the dial and opened the door. The last of the people who were lingering around cleared, giving me strange stares as they passed. I gave a tight smile and shielded myself against the books that were shaking in my hands. I suddenly wished I could go back and undo everything. If a few people staring at me and whispering about me was enough to make my shake in my shoes, than it would only get worse as the day went on. God knows what Nora was thinking right now, too. I had no intention to go head-to-head with the most popular girl in school.

I wouldn't win, anyways.

I gathered everything I needed for first period and shut the door, letting out a surprised yelp.

Someone was standing behind the door before I closed it. I stared nervously at him. He was obviously one of the popular jocks in school, someone Nora would go for. He had deep, sea blue eyes and golden blonde hair. His jaw was deep set and his build was muscular even through the maroon varsity jacket. He smiled sweetly at me, hands in his back pockets.

"Hello." he said.

"Um, hi." I replied, shifting the weight of my body on either foot. Through my newly feathered lashes, I looked at him. He was very cute, fitting every stereotype of the perfect teenage boy. I recognized him as Mark Callson, one of the linebackers for the Heatherridge High football team.

Under his lustful stare, I realized something.

And it was something that I should have realized as soon as I met Scar.

I didn't need him to make me feel special. I didn't need to be Scar's ''girl.'' Oh no, Nora apparently held that position. And you know what? I was fine with that. Really, I was. Scar could do whatever he pleased...but so could I. I had just as much power in this game of ours as he did. What stopped me from playing my cards out the way I pleased? Lack of attention? Not enough courage? Well, I had both of those now. And I also had something else.

Reckless abandon.

Oh, those two words. Much more than just words in real life, of course. A feeling. An empty, hollowed out, desperate feeling that wanted to be filled. And with what? What could fill that raw, biting hurt in my chest? Certainly not Scar. But I didn't need Scar, remember? Any boy would do just fine. Just like any girl would do Scar just as fine.

Was I doing this to somehow justify my jealousy towards Nora? To make myself feel better about Scar? I suppose, to an extent, yeah I probably was. But I was also doing it to prove something to myself, and it was that no boy could ever break my heart and leave me vulnerable by his own terms. I had the power to stop that. Not Scar, but the feelings. The emotions. The harsh slap of rejection coated cruelly with misplaced affection.

"You're cute. Mark, isn't it?" I smirked. I liked this feeling. I liked his attention, and for just a second, his attention took away the pain of Scar's lack of attention towards me. But remember, this wasn't about Scar. It was about me.

"Yeah, Mark." He nodded, giving me a smirk back in return. "What's your name?"

"Genevieve." I leaned against the lockers. Mark, as I expected, took full advantage of this position. He shifted slightly and placed one hand on the lockers, effectively pinning me against them. I still had an escape route, but that this point, I didn't really think I wanted to use it. I was liking this too much to stop now.

"Genevieve." Mark repeated, leaning closer. "Pretty name. The girl it belongs to is even prettier."

His fingers twirled around a strand of my hair, tugging flirtatiously. I bounced my back gently on the wall of lockers, trying to hide the smirk. Strangely enough, I didn't feel at all nervous. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Nora and her friends watching with keen interest. Hell, I'd give them something to watch.

Placing my hands on his chest, I took a moment to appreciate the firmness of his muscles. Mark leaned even closer until his lips brushed against the skin of my neck. Welcoming the touch, I closed my eyes. Tears burned behind a false facade that I forced to keep up. Mark kissed his way up until his soft lips hovered over my own.

Twisting my fingers through his hair, I pulled him down until our lips met. His was soft at first, delicately tentative while mine was desperate. Nearby, I heard faint gasps from Nora's crew. Mark was one of their own, and we were nothing more than strangers. For the time being, I was fine with being another notch in Mark's belt of girls if it took the hurt in my chest away.

Growing agitated with Mark's vanilla makeout, I pushed harder against him. His hands were on either side of my waist, wrapping around to grip me tighter. Heck, if I was going to ruin whatever dumb reputation I had in the first place, I decided to take it all the way. Moaning loudly, I tried to make it sound as passionate as possible while we violently made out in the middle of the hallway in front of everyone. Mark seemed to be loving it.

Where did I go so wrong? How did I sink this low? Kissing a boy I barely knew, one of Nora's surely. God, everything was Nora's, wasn't it? Every shitty thing in this town belonged to Nora Moore, from places to boys.

It certainly caught the attention of Nora and her friends. Unfortunately, it also caught the attention of someone else.

"Miss Warrens! Mr. Callson!"

We instantly broke off at the sound of that voice. Mr. Stine was making his way down the hallway, furious. Striding past awed students, he came to a stop in front of us. I pushed Mark away, my lips burning from the effort I had put in and my chest tighter than ever before. However, I felt strangely content. Even as Mr. Stine scribbled out detention slips for Mark and I, a part of me was...happy. And I knew that I achieved whatever quest I came looking for to begin with. I hated the feeling.

"PDA is not allowed in the halls of Heatherridge High!" Mr. Stine growled, handing me one of the slips. He gave the other to Mark, who smirked. "Mr. Callson, I have told you that enough times this year. I expect to see you both this afternoon, or the consequence won't just be an hour of after school detention. Is that clear?"

I smirked. "Yes, sir."

Mr. Stine gave me the stink eye before turning promptly around on his old man shoes and striding away. As Mark sauntered back to his friends, something caught my eye.

Or rather, a someone.

It was Scar, leaning against the lockers with a strange expression on his face. Close enough to have seen and heard everything, and from the looks of it, he had.






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