Battle Scars

Chapter 11

There's multiple songs that I feel go with this chapter so I'm just going to give you guys lines from a few of them.

"When heaven seems so far away and dreams are just a memory, without the dark the light won't show. Remember that you're not alone."-Just Keep Breathing, We The Kings.

"I've spent 12 months fighting this illusion of me, stuck in the shadow of the person I'm supposed to be."-Warrior, Paradise Fears

"I'm bruised and scarred, save me from this broken heart. All my love will slowly fade and fall apart."-Bruised and Scarred, Mayday Parade

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Chapter 11

           

            The week dragged on. All my lectures felt like they lasted an eternity, a never ending loop of right triangles and psychological theory. By the time Friday came around I couldn’t tell who was feeling the stress more: Me or Emma. I hid my emotions behind forced smiles and faked laughs, though. It was something I had mastered during the rough times of my life and I broke out my skills for Emma’s sake. She was breaking, her anxiety was in overdrive at the thought of an actual date with Isaac. The least I could do was act like I was fine with this.

            That’s why when she was rushing around our room trying to figure out what she should wear I simply sat on my bed with my laptop and scrolled through Tumblr.

            “Is a skirt casual enough? Or should I wear shorts?” She laid out multiple options on her mattress, wrinkling her nose at aspects I probably wouldn’t see.

            I glanced at her wardrobe before turning back to my blog. “It’s a simple date. Dinner, carnival, beach. Wear whatever feels comfortable.”

            She pulled a black circle skirt out of her closet and held it up to her waist. “Is this okay?”

            “Emma.” I shut my laptop so I could focus all my attention on her. “Wear whatever your little heart desires. You’ll look beautiful in anything and I’m sure Isaac will think the same.”

            “You really think?”

            “Of course. But you need to hurry. I want your help fixing my hair before they pick us up.”

            Her eyes glowed at the suggestion and she bounced on her toes. “Really?”

            With a sigh, I nodded my head. I never allowed Emma to touch my hair for fear of how it would turn out in the end. I didn’t even let her help me dye it. She got too happy with curling irons and my hair was damaged enough as it. No need to burn it off in the process. But whatever made Em happy, right?

            She squealed and ran toward the bathroom, yelling something about needing hairspray. Immediate regret filled my stomach, but it was too late. I had thrown myself to the wolves and there was no way out.

            An array of curling wands and makeup awaited me when Emma called me into the bathroom. A timid smile tugged at her lips when I eyed the eye shadow pallet she laid on the sink. “I was hoping you’d let me do your makeup while we were at it.”

            I ran a hand across my face and huffed. “Guess you might as well.”

            She cheered and pushed me into the desk chair she had brought into the bathroom.