9 // A Rash of Good Luck

228K 11.8K 4.9K

MONDAY mornings were never a particular favourite of mine, a shocking revelation I knew was truly unique, but I felt that this was a especially terrible one. Easily one of the worst Mondays ever conceived, and that was a pretty high bar already.

But having my neck and face covered in red, ridiculously itchy blotches and pasty white calamine lotion, looking the pinnacle of all things high fashion I'm sure, all while trying my best not to claw off all my skin- well, that was, by any means, just a bad time.

A very panicked and horrified trip to the doctor's on Sunday brought the burning words of poison ivy along with the promise of a week or two more of this hell. Because this was, of course, my life. And having scrapes and bruises all over my body clearly was not bad enough for me.

Reese's presence really was on a path headed straight for death, and my body was deteriorating one day at a time. I was sure of it.

Heaving another sigh, I sat on the steps in front of my house, watching as Savannah's sleek, navy car pulled up into my driveway. She rolled down the window, poking out her blonde head of hair and wincing as soon as she caught side of the damage.

"It's not, uh, it's not that bad?"

Her face read a completely different story.

I shot her a dry look, throwing my backpack over my shoulder and stalked towards the car, unimpressed, to say the least. "Save your false words of comfort," I advised, "I am the unfortunate owner of a mirror and am painfully aware that it is very, if not every single type of bad."

Savannah shot me a sympathetic smile, those crystalline eyes drowning in pity. "Hey, didn't you say that in a week or two it'd all be cleared up? I still don't know why you were walking in that forest, but it'll be fine. Time will fly, trust me."

I fixed her with a skeptical look. "I trust nothing other than that hell's fire is occupying my face."

Savannah cracked a grin and rolled her eyes, peeling out of the driveway.

I'd recounted a watered down version to Savannah and Eva, where I was taking an innocent walk by myself in the forest and then catastrophe struck, purposely leaving out a few key characters due to the fact that I was now a horrible friend and a liar.

It was like my mom knew and that was why she was forcing me to go to school after I'd begged shamelessly for hours, which she was having none of. Now I was forced to endure my punishment.

Which was of the cruel and unusual temperament, as I slunk down the halls and tried to convince myself that everyone was totally not staring at me. That was a lie. Everyone was. I looked like a creature from the black lagoon.

When Eva saw me, she barely stifled a gasp from those cherry red lips. Her next immediate action was snatching a blanket-esque scarf from her purse and lunging, cocooning my face in the fabric. I watched her from the slit she allowed me, shooting Savannah a questioning look, but taking it nonetheless.

I knew better than to fight it.

"It's hot," I complained, voice muffled by layers of silky mauve.

"But you look so much better," Eva insisted, eyeing her work with approval. "No one can even tell, it's perfect!"

I blinked, feeling not very perfect at all. "I look like a mummy."

"Well it's either mummy or zombie, so pick your poison, Stella. Beggars can't be choosers.

Savannah rolled her eyes, but when we locked gazes I could see the small smile toying on her pale lips. "Maybe you should concentrate more on getting better and less about striding down the cat walk." Which was easy enough for her to say, with her effortless braid and loose white t-shirt she looked more like off-duty model than childhood nightmare.

Fraternizing with the EnemyWhere stories live. Discover now