2
‘The Story Of Us’
— Taylor Swift
Scott
I slide into the backseat of the car while my mom settles into the passenger seat, laughing softly at something my dad muttered under his breath.
She was a little tipsy, not enough to stumble.
Unlike Lara's mom, who was very drunk. I could tell when she told me to date Lara.
My mom had always loved parties. Loud music, crowded rooms, people watching her like she was the main event.
My dad used to say he thought she would mellow out with age.
Lately, I could tell he was starting to realize she would not.
The porch light glowed against the dark, and for a second, I caught a glimpse of the upstairs window.
Her window. I only show up to these things to get a reaction out of her.
Getting under her skin is easy. Almost too easy.
“How was it with Lara?” My mom asked, turning slightly in her seat. I locked my phone and slid it into my pocket. I did not like this topic. Our moms had been trying to push us together since we were kids. They thought it was adorable that we bickered. They called it chemistry.
“I hate her guts,” I answer.
“Oh, please,” she replied. “You two have chemistry. Anyone can see it.”
“We don’t.”
Our rivalry started in elementary school. She shoved me on the playground, and I split my eyebrow open on the metal steps. She swore it was an accident, but I still think she did it on purpose. I run my thumb over the faint scar sometimes. It cuts straight through my eyebrow.
“You’ll come around,” my mom said confidently. “You’re more alike than you think.” That was my problem. We were alike in the worst ways. Both are only children, both stubborn, both competitive.
Our moms dreamed about raising daughters together to live on their legacy. Instead, she got me.
Now they act like we are some unfinished love story.
I am not interested. I am leaving for college the second I graduate.
With a sports scholarship, hopefully. Basketball is the only thing that makes sense to me.
There are no confusing emotions involved.
Maybe I will go pro one day. Probably not.
But I am going to try. My dad always tells me I need to have faith in myself.
I swear I do, but sometimes I doubt my capabilities in making it to the NBA.
“?Nosotros estamos aquí!” my dad said in Spanish.
‘We are here.’ I can understand Spanish, but I just can’t speak it.
My dad's half Mexican, and my mom’s white.
I’m just a quarter Mexican. My skin is a little tan, but I look more like my mom.
Lara is a natural blonde with deep brown eyes.
I can’t lie and say she isn’t pretty because she is.
Very pretty. I’ve always admired her beauty, especially because I’ve never found anyone as attractive as her.
We pulled into our driveway. I step out and look up at our pale yellow house.
It has been that color forever. I have always hated it.
It looks soft. Forgettable. Inside, everything was neat.
Quiet. My parents’ bedroom was downstairs.
The entire second floor was mine. Too much space for one person, but I’m not complaining.
**
The next morning, I walk into school wearing my favorite hoodie.
The back has The Bends printed across it.
Radiohead is the best band ever created.
Their music feels like thinking too much at two in the morning.
I paired it with dark wash wide-leg jeans.
Nothing special. I’m not trying to impress anyone.
The halls buzzed with noise. Lockers slamming.
People shouting across the corridor. I adjust my backpack on one shoulder when my best friend Danny walks up and bumps his fist against mine.
“You won’t believe what happened at the party last night,” he said, grinning. “You should’ve been there.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“Jackie got jumped.”
“Jackie? As in jack-it-off Jackie?” Unfortunately for him, that’s what everyone called him. He earned that nickname after getting caught jerking off to the cheerleader’s socks in the girls' locker room. Somehow, he never got in real trouble. His dad has connections. That is how it always goes.
“Yeah,” Danny said. “And it was a girl.” I let out a low whistle. “He deserved it.” Some lines you just do not cross. Being a creep is one of them. It irritates me how often guys get away with garbage behavior. The bell rang, and Danny runs off to his next class.
I head to math and freeze when I see Lara sitting in my seat.
“Ahem. You’re in my seat.”
She did not even look up at first. “Didn’t see your name on it.” Of course, she’s in a mood.
“You know, for someone who claims not to like people, you sure talk a lot,” I muttered. She finally looks at me. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were sharp.
Before she could respond, Mrs. Maggie clears her throat.
“I assigned her that seat, Delgado.” Great. I scan the room. The only open chair was next to her. I sit down, jaw tight. This was going to be a long year.
“How are you even in this class?” I whisper to her.
“This is the last math class I need to take. Looks like you failed.” I grip the edge of the desk. Math has always been my worst subject. Numbers blur together. Meanwhile, she makes it look effortless. We both have strengths. Mine just happen to involve a court and a ball.
“Watch your mouth, Butterfly," I say quietly.
Her lips twitch. “You watch yours, Scotty.” I hate when she calls me that.
“Seriously?” I muttered, louder than I meant to. A few kids begin to laugh.
Mrs. Maggie shoots me a warning look.
“Scott. Enough.” She snaps at me.
I lean back in my chair, forcing myself to shut up.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lara writing in her journal.
Her handwriting moved quickly, like she was trying to keep up with her own thoughts.
When she noticed me watching, she snaps it shut and slides it into her bag.
She even has the nerve to glare at me. Now I was curious.
Lara
I shut my notebook as fast as possible so Scotty doesn’t see what I’m writing, I know he’ll just make fun of me. I don’t want to deal with his witty remarks. I’d rather keep my ideas to myself.
“What are you writing?” he whispers to me, keeping his eyes on the board like we’re in a super secret information exchange.
“None of your business,” I whisper back to him.
I look at him from the side. He has strong features, a sharp nose, curly, deep-brown hair, and bright green eyes.
He’s attractive, I’ll admit that, but he’s also a huge jerk.
He looks over at me, catching me staring.
I quickly look around the room, but I think he caught me.
He leans in really close to my ear and whispers, “Like what you see, Butterfly?”
I grimace and close my eyes, wishing to disappear.
I lean away in my chair, doing everything possible to get away from him.
“No,” I say.
“Not even a little bit?” I look back at him once more, and he has a fake pout on his stupid face.
“No, Scotty,” I reply, and go back to paying attention to what Mrs. Maggie is writing on the board. I’ve always hated Scotty, since the moment I met him, I wanted to slap him.
After school, I headed over to my best friend Emma’s house.
We have been friends since seventh grade.
Before that, I really didn’t speak to anyone.
We were inseparable until she got a boyfriend.
Now, everything is completely different; she became more popular, more noticed.
I’m just there in the background. I think she still invites me over because she feels sorry for me.
Her mom lets me into her house, I walk into her room and immediately spot Jenna, her other best friend, or best friend.
I think our friendship is one-sided. I set my backpack down.
That’s when Jenna finally glances up from her phone. When she sees me, she rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t know you invited Lauren.” Jenna grits through a fake smile. Emma is lying down next to her on her stomach.
“Of course I did, she’s my best friend,” Emma said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. It’s not noticeable, but it’s definitely there. Best friend, my ass. I sit down on the fluffy stool placed at Emma’s vanity.
I really need to make new friends, but it’s so hard to make them. My social anxiety can’t handle being alone again. Emma is all I have.
“He’s so hot,” Jenna says, as they are both looking at something on Emma’s phone.
“Who is?” I ask, trying to get a look at the phone.
Jenna flips the phone around, showing me an Instagram post of Scotty.
It’s a photo dump posted 20 minutes ago.
Of course, Jenna likes Scotty. I mean, who wouldn’t…
Me obviously. In the photo, he’s wearing a basketball jersey, his hair messy.
It already has fifty likes, of course cause everyone loves Scotty.
“Isn’t he so dreamy?” Jenna sighs, ogling the picture. They are both giggling as they swipe through the photos when Jenna’s thumb accidentally presses the like button on Emma’s phone.
“Jenna!” Emma gasps, quickly unliking it.
“I’m sorry, Ems.” Ems. That’s the nickname I call Emma. I have ever since we met.
Jenna can’t just take it from me.
“If Landon saw that I liked Scott’s post, I’d be so dead.” Landon has been Emma’s boyfriend for a year. He’s on the basketball team with Scotty. Landon and Emma have broken up a million times. They are so toxic.
“Lauren, aren’t your parents in debt right now?”
Jenna asks out of nowhere, and I feel my cheeks heat up, because yes, they are.
My mom only got a job to pay bills, but it doesn’t help that they keep throwing parties, and our mortgage payments went up.
My mom grew up in our house; it was way cheaper in the 70’s than it is now.
I should really get a job to help with the bills, but it’s hard when all I want is to become an author—not a fast-food worker.
I just need to finish my book, and we can get out of this hole of debt.
“No.” The lie slips out of my mouth. I can’t tell Jenna the truth. It’s not like she’d care. Her parents are well off.
“Do you like anyone, Lara?” Emma asks. I think for a moment about everyone in my life. The guy next door, Isaac, I liked for a while. He went off to college, though. I guess I don’t like anyone right now.
“No, I don’t,” I tell them. Emma’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Seriously? You literally always have a crush.” Emma states. It’s true. I’ve liked a lot of guys, but I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone before. Love is weird.