The Girl With The Scar

Chapter Ten

Sawyer is sitting on my couch, my head and shoulders in his lap.

He runs his fingers through my hair and I trace the designs on his shirt with my fingers, feeling his muscles through his shirt. It's not that he has a six pack but he his strong and his muscles make me feel comfortable.

"Sawyer" I say, my fingers still on his shirt.

"Yeah baby?" He says

"my dad will be home soon" I say slowly, wishing it wasn't true. I could stay like this with him forever.

We have been dating over a month now and the rumors have died down at school. Sawyer and I hang out most of the time.

My dad doesn't know we are dating though. To him we are just friends.

"I know" Sawyer says, his fingers move from my hair to my scar. I love when he traces it and I don't know why but I do.

Then he lifts up my shirt and starts kissing my stomach. "Sawyer" I say giggling and swatting his face. "Sto-o-o-o-pp" I say laughing.

"Fine" he says smiling. He lays his hand on my stomach, my shirt still just above my belly button. He leans down and kisses my lips. I raise myself to my elbows and kiss him back.

Keys start jingling in the door and I swing myself around so I'm just sitting next to him.

Sawyer grabs the remote and clicks on the T.V. I grab my notebook and open it.

I hear the door open, "and that is how you divide a radical" I say, Sawyer tries not to laugh.

"oh that makes so much sense" he says as my dad enters the room.

"Hi dad" I say

"Hello Matilda, Hello Mr. Dawson" he says, I roll my eyes. My dad refuses to call me Tilly.

"Hi Mr. Savon" Sawyer responds.

"We are having someone over for dinner tonight and your sisters are coming" my dad says.

"can Sawyer stay too?" I ask.

"not tonight" my dad replies and then walks upstairs.

I look at Sawyer.

"You have sisters?" He says,

"yeah. They're older than me. Lindsay is twenty four and Brittany is twenty three" I say.

"and you got stuck with Matilda?" He asks

"yeah" I sulk.

"I like it" he says.

"no you don't" I insist.

"Matilda" he says testing it.

"it sounds like a grandma" I remark and he laughs.

"I better go" he says, kissing me on the forehead,

"yeah I have to change" I say.

I walk him to the door and we say goodbye, then I head upstairs to change.

I currently have on cutoff shorts and a sweatshirt, being we have two weeks of school left I don't care anymore. But this person could be formal, plus I have to look good in front of my sisters.

I put on black shorts and a purple top. I brush my hair and adjust my makeup, covering my scar the best I can. Looking in the mirror I decide I look good enough and head downstairs.

I see my dad standing in the hallway looking into one of the mirrors hanging on the wall. He is really dressed up, more so than I have seen him since mom died.