7
‘Bloom’
— The Paper Kites
Lara
“What happened today at school?” My dad asks me, he picked me up early.
I didn’t want to stay after that, especially because Scotty was the one that was comforting me.
At least it’s a step up from his just standing there as I cried my heart out due to bullies.
The bullies that are supposed to be my friends.
Well, maybe only Emma is supposed to be my friend; Jenna is just an asshole.
“Just a bad day,” I tell him. I don’t want him to give him the full truth because he’d make me report the bullying to the principal, and I want Emma to stay my friend. If I told one of the staff, she would hate me.
“Scott said you had a meltdown.” My head snaps over to him.
“When did you talk to Scotty?” I ask him, I don’t remember him talking to Scotty while we were at school.
When he picked me up, I was waiting in the office, sitting on the uncomfortable plastic chairs.
Scotty insisted on waiting with me for my dad instead of going back to his friends.
We sit there in silence, not saying a word to each other, until the class bell rang and he had to go back to class.
He and my dad didn’t even see each other when I got picked up.
“He texted me.” My dad replies.
“Since when do you and Scotty text?”
“All the time.” He shrugs, holding the wheel with one hand as he drives me home. He works as an accountant, but he’s at lunch right now, so he is just dropping me off at home.
**
I get out of the car, grabbing my backpack, he begins driving away as I walk up to the front porch. I glance over to my neighbor's house and see Isaac playing guitar on the front porch. I wave over at him, he looks up and smiles.
“You’re home early!” He shouts loud enough so I can hear.
“I had a rough day!” I shout back, my day isn’t as rough as his probably is, considering he has to deal with his mother mourning while he processes his dad's death himself.
He waves me over, I set my bag on the front porch, and walk across our yard into his. I step over the gardening my mom did on my side, the pretty pink tulips. I walk up the white steps on his porch and stand right in front of him.
“Hey,” he says, setting his guitar down. He pats the spot next to him on the white love seat. I sit down next to him awkwardly.
“Hey, Isaac,” I say.
“What was so rough about your day, Larva?” He asks me, giving me a soft smile. I bounce my leg, my anxiety coming back as I think about it. The first half was kind of fun, with Scotty and his friends, the second half not so much.
“Just my friend being mean.” I don’t give him the full story; it’s not as important as his problems.
“Doesn’t sound like a friend to me.”
“She just made friends with a different crowd. I don’t fit in her world anymore.” I tell him, he sighs, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Lara.”
I point to his guitar. “Can you play something?” I ask.
“Of course.” He picks up his guitar, strumming the strings for her, takes his guitar pick, and starts playing “Sparks by Coldplay”.
I listen to the music quietly. He’s good.
I close my eyes, letting the music fill my ears.
As the song ends, I open my eyes again, looking at the way his brown eyes look at the guitar, the way his long fingers move along the neck.
“That was good,” I tell him, and he nods in agreement.
“I should get going,” I tell him. I don’t want to spend any more time with him. I just have this uncomfortable feeling about being alone with Isaac, even though I have the biggest crush on him. Scotty hates his guts more than anything, which is odd because he’s such a sweetheart, right?
“Okay, it was nice seeing you, Larva.” He gives me one last smile before I head over to my house. I spend the rest of the night working on my book.
I’m sitting in my bed reading one of my books, it’s one I have already read, but I like rereading my books when nothing new sounds good.
I’m wearing pink silky pajamas, and a white sheet mask is on my face.
I feel so cozy in my attire. My phone lights up with a text, I reach over and grab it, looking at the message bubble.
It’s from an unknown number. Lara. Is all the text says, my heart drops.
Who is this??? I reply. Scott. Your best friend.
He sends a wink emoji, and I roll my eyes.
How do you have my number? I ask. I stay inside the chat waiting for his message as I fiddle with my fingers.
I’ve had it, I’ve just never used it before Butterfly.
Yup, that is definitely Scotty. I flip over onto my stomach as I wait for his next message.
I’m coming over for dinner tomorrow. He says, I groan softly to myself, another horrible day for me.
Scott
I smile while texting Lara, knowing she is raging over the phone.
I can’t wait to go to dinner tomorrow. I heard Isaac is also coming over, which makes me frown.
I hate Isaac, and I have good reasons. I know his dad used to beat him, but it doesn’t give him an excuse for what he did.
Or does. I hate you. I read the text, a smirk playing on my lips.
I hate you more, Butterfly. Now go to bed.
Dream about me. I sent another wink emoji; it’s probably my favorite emoji right now.
If you showed up in my dream, it would turn into a nightmare.
I laugh softly to myself. She’s so stubborn.
Goodnight. I go to my Instagram to check how many likes I have on my post now, 200, mostly people from our school.
I check my direct messages to see one from Jenna Presley.
“You're cute, let’s talk.” She said with a kissy face emoji.
I screenshot it, sending it in the group chat.
Ashton: Gross. #TeamLara
Danny: Yeah, me too. #TeamLara
Axel: I’m trying to sleep. Shut up.
I laugh, there he is. I really hope he is okay. He hasn’t spoken to any of us. Until now. I feel bad, but if he won’t talk to us, there's nothing we can do.
5 years later
‘Scott Street’
— Phoebe Bridgers
Lara
I texted Scott one week later, right after he posted his first Instagram post.
It was a picture of him with his basketball jersey on, his brown curly hair a sweaty mess on the top of his head.
He’s standing next to a little girl who looks about 4 or 5.
I’m guessing she’s Amara, Scott’s little sister.
Scott was never there when she was born.
He left right after high school, and from what I know, he cut contact with his whole family.
From what it looks like, he rekindled his relationship with his family after we spoke last week.
I don’t know if he really means what he said.
Before Ashon and Danny flew back to Washington, I had coffee with them.
Ashton had said, “Scott texts your old number before every game; he has texted you good morning and good night every day for two years.”
I had gotten a new phone a few years ago, a new number, and everything.
I guess I wanted a fresh start. I didn’t know he did that, though, even after he left.
Scott has always had an issue; he always runs away from his problems, and I guess in his mind, I was the problem.
Hi. Is the only thing I texted Scott. He replied almost immediately, just sending a plain old, Hey.
He responded so fast, I can’t help but think he was waiting on his phone, waiting for a message.
I knew he had a game yesterday, which they lost one point off, so he’s probably upset about that.
Aurora ghosted that Michael guy right after that date, which is something Aurora always does.
I always wonder when she will settle down with someone. Suddenly, my phone rings, it’s Scott.
“Hello?” I answer, clearing my throat, trying to get rid of the voice cracks. I'm exhausted after spending all day at the gym. I am not athletic at all. I prefer books over anything else. I also just made it to chapter 10 of my new book. Yay me.
“Hey.” I hear Scott’s breathing on the other side of the phone; his voice is deep and soothing, and I almost forgot about it. “I miss you.” He says quietly, it’s almost a whisper.
“I don’t.”
“Can we see each other?” I hear him toss in his bed over the line.
I am currently sitting on my couch with my feet propped up against the coffee table.
“I’m busy,” I answer coolly as if I’m not freaking out over talking to Scott.
I’ve waited for this moment for years, and now that I’m on the phone with him, it feels like I’ve been sucked dry of words.
I can’t seem to say anything. I hold the butterfly charm on my necklace, messing with it slightly.
He got it for me for Christmas. I still wear it a lot; it goes with a lot of outfits.
It’s not like I still love him; I’m mad at him, very mad.
He can’t make me love him again, but I still care for him as a friend.
“Doing what?” he asks.
“Writing my next book.”
“I read your book.” I nearly choke on air.
He actually read my book? No way he would do that.
It is possible though. I used to show him the ideas I had, he thought they were cool.
I think about how I used to like Isaac before I knew the truth; he never cared about my books, which is why I made the right choice when I dropped him.
He didn’t even care about the book I was reading, while Scott would buy me books just so I would read them, then tell him what happened in my own words.
“No way you did.”
“I did, they get together in the end after an angry love confession in the rain, classic.” He actually did, wow. “Let’s go get coffee, I have something to tell you.” I want to protest, but it sounds important, so I just say yes.
I put on some makeup, a jacket, and walk down the stairs of my apartment.
I reach the coffee shop and see Scott sitting at a table, in person again is just mindblowing.
I’m afraid I’ll wake up any second if I blink.
As I walk over to the table, he hands me a caramel frappe, then pulls the chair out for me.
I glare at him, not wanting him to do all this gentleman shit after he quite literally ghosted me.
“Hi,” he says softly. He takes a sip of his own coffee.
“Hey, Scott.”
“You don’t call me Scotty anymore.”
“I grew up.” The silence is loud, so loud I can feel it echoing in my ear, the chatter from other people consuming me. He pulls out an envelope from his back pocket then sets it on the table.
“An invitation to a masquerade ball.” He says, I tear open the envelope, pulling out a fancy card that says my name. ‘Lara Mae, you’re invited to the masquerade ball on October 29th, you may bring 1 plus one.’ I read it over and over again, then a wide grin spreads across my face.
“You can bring a date or whatever.” Tickets to these things are like 10,000 dollars. I’m guessing he made a lot of money from his contract. “I’ll be going too,” he adds.
“I’m bringing Aurora.” I watch him nod softly, a slight smile on his face. “Also, don’t think you can buy your way back into my life.”
“I just thought it’d be something you’d like to do. We can go together as friends, of course,” he suggests, his eyes filled with hope. I want to say yes so badly, but instead I shake my head no. I watch his face fall, his posture shifting slightly.
“I understand,” he says, his voice almost a whisper.
“Is this all you wanted to tell me?” he nods. “Then we are done here.” I grab my coffee and then leave him, just like he left me. I don’t feel happy about it; instead, I cry my whole walk home. I get weird looks from people passing me, but I don’t care. I just need to let the tears fall.