Behind Our Scars

II

ANDRÈS

"I didn't mean to fight him."

My hands are cuffed in front of me and I sit in the station, talking to one of the cops. The dude is old, a thick mustache covering his upper lip, and stubble on his chin. The cop frowns, leaning forward on the desk to bring his face closer to mine.

Coffee breath. I already smell it before the man even decides to open his mouth or find the words to say to me. "How the hell do you accidentally fight somebody?"

I roll my eyes. This isn't my first time being arrested, just my first time being arrested for fighting. My shoulders move up in response to that question. The cop exhales in frustration. "Well you're lucky he didn't press charges."

I'm not lucky, he is. The kid was fucking irritating, I told him to shut up and he punched me. Twice. The asshole knew he started it, and if they check the cameras? For once I wouldn't be in as much trouble.

"I shouldn't even let your troubled ass out." The cop picks up his keys, picking one out to unlock the cuffs. The man looks at me before unlocking them with a shake to his head. "You shouldn't." I say in response.

And it's true. Nothing will change unless everyone else that exists on this earth learns to stop trying me. The cop nods. "Noted," Once my wrists are released from the slightly tight cuffs I can't help but rub them.

"Later." I dismiss him, walking out of the police station casually. As I'm exiting to the porch of the station, a cop outside is smoking a cigarette. "Hey kid," I stop walking, not bothering to turn around. "Try to stay out of trouble?" He stops speaking and I watch him take a puff from the horrible smelling thing. "Get a girlfriend or something, to balance you out."

I frown. What? I don't do the whole relationship thing. It's stupid. "Make sure she's good, you know?"

I nod.

I can't help my mind wandering back to that girl. Her dark brown thick curls, almond chocolatey eyes, skin a warm brown color and bushy eyebrows that look kind of cute when she frowns.

She's a fucking creep.

And of course she was there when I was fighting that kid, Elijah. And I'm pretty sure she was there when I was trying to be at peace, smoking my blunt and ignoring the entire world around me. I was just too high to pay attention to her. She's always there, I honestly don't even know how. Maybe it's constant coincidences or maybe she's actually a fucking stalker. Although I know I remember her name, I just can't think of it right now.

I head into the building next to the station to collect my belongings. The lady at the window gives me a sympathetic smile, handing me my bookbag, my skateboard, wallet, and my phone. I place the wallet and phone in my bag, trading it out for bluetooth headphones. It was a worthy investment, now I can skate without having to worry about the wire.

I flip the skateboard down, placing my left foot on the back, and my right to push the board forward, down the hill and back towards the school. The station wasn't built far from VPGU, probably because of all the parties that go on down here. The noise complaints, reports of people getting seriously injured, fights, my fights and more stupid shit these donut eating people just seem to have all the time for.

I press a button on the side of my headphones and Meddle About by Chase Atlanitc resumes in my ears. The song I was playing before all hell broke loose earlier.

✥✥✥

I toss my board on the grass in front of Noah. His legs are crossed and his black and red board sits on his lap, flipped over and a screwdriver beside him. "My wheel came loose." He mumbles, picking up the screwdriver with his ringed fingers and twisting it within the socket of the wheel.

"How bad was your fall?" I snicker, the skin on his knee is rough, ashy and slightly bloody and on his forearm it's the exact same. Noah shrugs, lifting up his arm. "I was alright until I realized your stalker was watching."

My jaw clenches and my eyes move almost immediately to the spot she's always in. Up the hill, behind the short fence and under the huge Oak tree, and there she is. Except she isn't looking at us, but at the other people in the park. Her wired headphones are plugged in her ears, an ipad on her lap and she sits on top of a pink bird blanket.

Yesterday I sat there for a while, trying to understand why she likes to watch from the shadows. But I don't understand anything past her being a creep. "What's her name again?"

Noah looks at the girl, and it's almost as if I can see his gears turning. "Capital of a country," He mumbles, looking back down at his skateboard. Now, I take a seat beside him, placing my board on my lap. I pull out the chalk from my bookbag along with the paint markers.

"London." I glance at him, confusion growing on my face. "London, that's her name." The brown skinned boy flips his skateboard over, rolling it back and forth, testing the wheels. "But with a 'y' instead of an 'o'" I nod in response, my eyes finding the girl again.

This time, she's looking directly at us. I narrow my eyes. This is why she has the name "Creep." All she does is sit on that hill and stare at everyone. I mean, some people think that she's sweet, but I just find her weird. Londyn is never anywhere but her dorm, the photography studio and that stupid bookstore where she works. The only reason that information is engraved in my head is because of Jordan.

He's in the photography sector of VGPU with Londyn and all he talks about is her talent. "Where is Jordan anyway?" I ask, checking the time on my phone. It reads three fifteen in bold letters. Noah shrugs. "Probably with that girl, Emilia." The boy beside me glances back at the hill, and my eyes follow his.

"She isn't watching anymore." Noah stands, picking up his board. "We can go skate."