The Scars Within [boyxboy]

The Scars Within {15}

                                                                                ***EJ’s POV***

                “His fingers are sewn on, man! He got them chopped off. I wonder if he got them cut off in a fight,” I said, still amazed at Lionel’s fingers. How the hell had it happened? I wanted to know so, so freaking bad. I had never been raging with so much curiosity in my life. How the hell do you get 4 of your fingers cut off like that? By where the scars were, I’d say they were cut clean off. Maybe an accident with power tools? Or a fight. With Lionel’s big mouth and big ego, it had to have been a fight.

                “Did he tell you how it happened? Or, like, hint at it?” Brewer asked and I shook my head, too curious to be pissed with his stupidity. “No. But I want to know! He wouldn’t have told Brad or Melissa. I doubt if he’s told anyone in this town. That Andy Cali kid probably knows, but like we’d ever get the chance to ask him.”

                 Brewer shrugged. “I don’t know, EJ,” he said. His face was badly bruised from his dad. His dad had always abused him. He never talked about it, though. He was embarrassed by it.

                “I want to know,” I said with a frustrated sigh. He would tell me if I told him why I wore the bandana, but that wasn’t even an option. But maybe…maybe I could tell him a little lie about that. I gently brought my hand up to make sure the bandana still covered my eye.

                “What are you thinking, EJ?” Brewer asked cautiously. “I’m going to go to his place and find out what happened to his fingers,” I said with an affirmative nod. I jumped up and shoved my phone in my pocket.

                I glanced at Brewer and he stood up. “Got it, man. I have to head home anyways. My dad’s making me mow the lawn today. I also have to clean the house before he gets home from work. I better go home and get started on that shit,” he said with a shrug.

                We left my bedroom and my mom glanced at me curiously. “Where are you boys going?” she asked. “Out,” I responded and slid my shoes on. Brewer and I left the house and walked together for a little before it came to his street. He gave a slight wave and turned down his street.

                Putting on my iPod, I walked down to Lionel’s house and rang his doorbell. His mom opened the door as she had this morning and gave me another shocked look. “I need to talk to Lionel,” I said casually, trying to show her that I didn’t have any plans on killing her son at the current moment. Maybe later. Right now, I was too curious to care.

                “He’s in his room,” she said nervously and let me into the house. Lionel’s house was huge, from the outside and the inside. It made my house look like a fucking cardboard box.

                I walked through his kitchen and his dining room, which was bigger than my bedroom, for the record, before reaching the stairs. I climbed up them, trying not to stare at the chandelier hanging fancily from the ceiling.

                I reached the top of the stairs and walked down the short hallway to Lionel’s room. I knocked on the door and a moment later, Lionel opened it. He raised an eyebrow. “You like my house or something, EJ? Cause you keep coming here today,” he said but stepped aside and let me in.

                Andy Cali stood up with clothes in his hands. He glared at me. “Lion, I’m going to shower. This kid gives you any trouble, I’ll fuck him up proper,” he snarled before shoving by me and shutting Lionel’s door.

                Lionel laughed and shrugged. “Gotta love that kid,” he said and sat down on his bed, looking at me with knowing eyes. “So what are you doing here, EJ?” He didn’t have to ask me that and he knew it. I glared at him and sat down on the air mattress, looking up at him.

                “I wear a bandana because that eye is weaker than my other one,” I said. “I can hardly see out of it.” That was a lie. But Lionel didn’t need to know that.

                He smirked, his eyes shining. “You’re lying, but I’ll let you off the hook if you tell me the honest truth about what fucked up your eye. Then I’ll tell you the honest truth about my fingers in return,” he said, his smirk growing wider.

                I glared and then my face dropped. I hadn’t talk about the accident in years, but suddenly, I wanted to. I wanted to tell Lionel what had happened to me.

                “I was in a car accident. The windshield was partially shattered,” I mumbled, not meeting his eyes anymore. “Are the glass caught your eye?” he asked and I nodded. “And that’s why your face is scarred?” Another nod. He was carefully examining the grotesque scar that down my face. The glass had really messed my face up.

                Lionel smirked again. “Okay. You’re being honest. I’ll be nice and won’t even asked how the accident happened.” I bit my lip. If he had asked, I probably would’ve just died. I wasn’t ready to talk about that, not even with my mom.

                “Now what happened to your fingers?” I asked, almost shaking with excitement to know. I had held up my end of the deal and now it was time for Lionel to hold up his end. His smirk faltered but then held steady on his face again.

                He met me with eyes that held no regret and no fear. Whatever had happened to his fingers, he had gotten over it a long time ago. I had never gotten over the car accident that had messed my face and my eye up. How could I? Every time I looked in the mirror, it flashed back in my mind. The agony, the screaming. The cause of it. It all flashed back in my mind. It hurt me more on the inside than it did on the outside.

                “You sure you want to know?” he asked and I nodded, positive. The curiosity of it was killing me. How the hell did something like that happen? Lionel shrugged and smirked widely. “My dad cut them off,” he said simply.