Scars on My Black

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Princess [Kevin]

“Where the heck are they?”

I questioned as I searched around Charlez’s cluttered closet looking for the box of spare clothes I kept here.

“Yes!“, I cheered finally locating the taped shoebox.

I broke the seal with my finger and I slipped out the folded, boxers, black and white basketball pants and green t-shirt and pulled them on. My legs are defiantly going to freeze but it is years better than roaming around naked.


My phone went off. I picked up the discarded device and swapped through my messages.

It was Jeremy. Great.

My fingers wasted no time entering conversation. I scanned through the message and sighed. It was just information for the party. It was happening the more affluent part of Peselton not to much surprise.

Another no surprise is that I do not have clothes for that kind of party and the one place I hate going is to the store. Shuffling around a store with other people brushing against me makes my skin crawl a bit.

Let us not forget the staring.

I huffed and grabbed my wallet from my old pants. It cannot be helped. I waved a quick goodbye to Charlez and made the journey to the only clothing store I can afford. Explained why most of the funded kids usually shop here. It’s a fairly smaller store in comparison to the bigger ones near the school. It’s selection mostly caters to alternate fashion.

Not much of my style but I can make do.

I pulled up to the small store and chained my bike to a pole before entering the store. The store’s interior was decorated in a mix of deep purples and greys. There was some guitar riff playing through the speakers that reminded me of a cartoon.

At least there is not many people here today.

I roamed the narrow pathway looking through the variety of denim jeans they had on display. Who needs these many shades of denim anyway? I pulled a slightly deep one off the rack holding it against my body.

“You are not getting that.“, a familiar red-head’s voice said.

I looked over at Petra and her faithful lapdog, who thinks glaring at me is supposed to frighten me, “Are you following me or something? Can’t say I’m the most interesting”, I complain.

“Stop dreaming fundboy.“, Jasmine remarked placing her hand on her hip.

“My dreams are a lot sexier than that.“, I remarked.

Jasmines pale cheeks ballooned as she swelled with snide comment only to be quenched by Petra’s quick jab to her dainty side. Narrowed cool eyes sealing the thin pink butterfly wings from flapping.

“Anyway, if you are going to spend your money on something it should at least be fashionable.” Petra carries on.

“Fashion is subjective.” I tossed as the sound of metal sliding on metal screech through the conversation.

“Fashion is subjective. That is why it is best to dress for the crowd. What crowd are you buying these new clothes for?“. She questioned with an intent gaze while Jasmine phone emitted a steady pace of beats.

“To a party. A college one.“, I answered simply.

Jasmine’s rhythm halted for a moment before returning to the groove. Petra’s smile grew to the size of a cut watermelon. “Why didn’t you tell me then.“,

Petra waves a stray hand while the other begins flicking through the many shades of denim. A soft click of her tongue and she pulled out the most useless pair of pants I have ever seen. With zippers almost as useless than the hobo chic rips decorating the dark denim.

I could argue. I want to say put that piece of useless cloth in the rag bin where it belongs, but I cannot. The soft pleased chuckle hidden under an entitled smile threw any argument I had out the window.

Once the queen’s verdict was delivered, there was no overrule.

That was how the rest of the time passed. The constant screeching of metal, the soft ruffling of cloth and a plastic and the insidious uneven rhythm of never-ending beeps. Petra frequently held up different styles of graphic t-shirts up to my body but rarely held onto something longer than two minutes. A day of me laboring through a quick shopping trip turns into a hour long shopping montage.

When Petra finally seemed satisfied with the articles of clothes, she thrusted them into my hand and lead the way to the cashier. The man working there looked more disinterested to be here than me. He rung up the purchases with no more than a hello before sending us on our way. Petra hummed an airy tune as we strolled through the exit.

“Would you like to come to my place so we can get ready or are you allowed back in the dorm?” Petra hummed.

“Your coming? When did you decide this?“, I asked.

“Just now,” she smiled.

I huffed loudly and began unhooking my bike. As I fiddle with the small combination lock, I tune into the small conversation that sprouted in my disposal. Jasmine’s phone was gone now as she looked at her majesty unsteadily.

“I can’t come.“, she barely mustered,

Petra moth gaps slightly, “And why not. This isn’t our first college party.” She grills, tapping her almond nails against her crossed arms.

“I got a date with Ryan tonight.“, She replied meeting her cold gaze.

Petra cocks her head to the side, “Real? Ryan McGloin? You rather be with that misogynistic sack of potatoes than your BFF! You know what, that is fine. Go right ahead.” Petra declares before she roughly grabbed my arm, pulling me and my bike away in her strong grip.

She almost threw me in the trunk instead of the bike. She grumbled curses under her breath until she slammed the car door shut. I sat in the passenger seat not knowing if to shiver or be snarky.

Once pulled onto the main road with only the low rumble of the engine filling the space I began to speak.

“So, this is a Mercedes’s?“, I tested.

Petra scoffed, “No Nesquick, this is a BMW X5. Old but efficient. Just how I like things.“.

“And here you are dating a junior.“, I grinned.

A quick scowl was my only warning, Petra swiveled sharply at a corner causing my head to slam against the window. “Fucking hell! What the hell is wrong with you!“.

“I’m sorry. It is just Jasmine. This is the sixth time she has blown me off.” She vents.

“Let her date her man. You are sounding like a psycho friend.” I groaned rubbing my injured temple.

She groans, “Ryan McGloin is like an unsalted potato. Either Jasmine has lost her taste or he gave her his lucky charms.“.

“Lucky Charms?“.

“The thing you never had.“.

I give an exaggerated gasp, “I’ll have you know that I have done it to many lucky ladies.“.

Petra chuckles, “So you did it with Bess?“.

I folded my arms, “Wouldn’t you wish to know. Want to get tips about how to get in my pants?“.

She swiveled again.

“Fine! No we didn’t.“.

Red brows raise and a smirk came to her face, “Kevin Falcon’s a virgin?“.

I could hear my heart pounding. My face grew warm as I bowed my head, “Look I may not have had sex with Bess but trust me I’m not a virgin.“.

Far from it.

Petra giggles lightly, “Whatever you say Birdie.“.

We pulled up to her place in record time. After a few quick steps and a key jangle later, we entered the apartment. Petra shrugged off her black cotton jacket and threw it over the couch. She walked over to her bedroom with a purposeful slow sway of her hips.

“What time is this party.” She called out.

“Like around ten.” I replied flopping down in my familiar spot on the couch,

“Great! That means we can start the marathon!“, she says with glee.

“What marathon?“.

Petra emerges from the bedroom wearing a pink jogger with a plain white tank top. She bounds up to the couch quickly going to her movie selection. I internally groaned seeing what she was typing.

“Princess films?“.

“Yes!“, she grins, “If we start now we can get through most of the classic and renaissance ones with plenty of time to get ready.“.

“But why though.“.

“Everyone needs a bit of magic.“, she replied and started with the first film.

As the hours past I slowly grew more and more engrossed in these films. I have not seen most of these since my sister use to watch them. Those were simpler times. Where nothing seemed chaotic.

Simple to others.

Petra lets out a long yawn as the credits begin to roll of the eighth film. She glances up at the time and gasped, “Shit. We need to get ready.“.

Petra sprung from her seat knocking down a few pillows. I rubbed my weary eyes. My vision just cleared enough to see the flick of a red ponytail vanishing behind the walls.

“If you want to freshen up you can use the hallway bathroom.” She announced beneath the sound of a running shower.

I stretched my back until I heard a soothing pop before slouching my way to the shower. Washing the tiredness off my body I could not help but hum that upbeat tune from the fourth movie.

When thoroughly cleaned and dry I began pulling on the new clothes. They were stiff as all new clothes are. The pants hugging tightly onto my body - barely leaving anything to be desired. This is only covered by the navy-blue polo shirt draped over it.

I stand in the full-length mirror checking myself out. I would be lying if I said that the clothes Petra picked out were bad. She even bought me a pair of boots to complete the look. I exit the small room and into the wide-open space. Leaning the boots against the couch I sat next to them and pulled them on.

I was just tying up my last lace when a familiar clicking sound vibrated through me. A pair of familiar thick legs clad in sheer leggings stare right at me. My eyes trailed up the thick plains of land to black shorts and a red lace mesh tops with a V-neck that dragged my eyes back do.

“You like?” She questioned closing the distance between us with three long strides.

“I should be asking you that. I know you were admiring from afar.“, I countered with a sly smile.

Petra pouted slightly dancing her finger up my shoulder, “I was just thinking of the many things I can stuff in there.“. Her warm hand cups my neck. She leans in so close I can smell her sweet scent of her rose perfume. “And pull them out one by one very, very slowly.“.

An uncontrollable shiver ran down my spine. I swallowed what seemed like my mother’s biscuits. A weak laugh fell out of my mouth but came short. It left my lungs yearning for air.

“So...You ready?“, I asked. Why the fuck did I ask that. Stupid, stupid and more stupid.

“Almost, just this necklace. Put it on for me?”

“Can’t you do it yourself.″ I protested.

Petra rolled her eyes moving me aside, fixing her loose curls. “Can’t you be a gentleman for once?“. She replied calmly.

“Fine...” I mumbled under my breath.

Taking the silver necklace from her hands I gently draped the necklace around her thick neck. Her hair smelt of jasmine and prickled my nose like a flower bush. A soft in take of air filled my lungs. With a light clip I trailed my fingers down the secured chain – touching my fingertips against her smooth porcelain like skin.

“Thanks.“, She barely breathes out, “I will be in the car.“.

Her light cherry red lip-gloss shined in the soft light. The soft clicking noise soon faded to nothing leaving me standing here.

I take a breath


Maybe two



Her scent still lingers.



It clears my lungs.

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