Scarred Roses

Chapter 12 part 2-wrong feels right and right feels wrong

Doing my best to shrug off the comment, I led Nick away from the estate, back through the fancy, little draw-bridge, and along the gravelled roads that took us to the township. I didn’t expect him to be impressed with the bare-essentials we had in the way of stores, and he wasn’t exactly, but he was certainly surprised to find out this wasn’t the prehistoric village he thought Derby was when he got here. We had places to eat and drink, places to buy clothes, books groceries and yes, even town cinema. Derby would never be an advanced town, but we had everything we could possibly need here. And I think that alone, had swayed his first impression just a little.

“So, this is what The Square looks like during the daytime,” He remarked, taking in the colourful exterior of peppermint green and pink letters, the colour of candy-floss. “Kind of…surreal. Like a nineteen-fifties drug-store.”

“That’s the big idea,” I retorted, “Everything is nearly authentic; from the waitresses’ uniforms, to the working duke-box that lights up. Oh-but you’ve got to exchange money at the counter for some coins that work in it. Probably a little too authentic in that sense.”

“It’s no wonder people like coming here,” He said, as he held the door open for me. “I’ve been to places in London-those high-end kinds of cafes that charge a fortune for a cup of bad coffee and one of those tiny cakes they call cuisine.”

“A sugar-cube on a plate, dad calls it.” I said, “I get what you mean though; in a world that keeps on changing, there are places like The Square that’ll always stay the same.”

Lucky for us, the café wasn’t busy today. Ingrid, I knew for a fact, would be working on her English project, Leo never came to The Square unless at least two of us were going as well, and the others had made no, clear plans to come here on the weekend. So, it felt much easier as we found a booth near the back to slip into. With a thick, cardboard menu between us, I looked up at Nick and simply waited for the look of incredulity to etch upon his face. I meant it when I said that you could have literally anything in a milkshake here; there were so many options in the menu here it made a person spoilt for choice, really.

“You can have shrimp-paste in a milkshake?” He asked me, cringing at the offending word.

“I’ve only ever heard of two people ordering that; one of them had two heaps of the stuff-made him badly sick. The other, I think, was a tourist. Audrey mentioned it in passing.”

“As tempting as it is, I think I’ll stick to something traditional,” He said with a chuckle, “What’s your go-to?”

“Mint frosting and Maltesers.” I answered, “But you can order regular flavours if you want.”

“Hello Hazel!” Gertie appeared, smiling her usual, cheery beam. “And you, I think, must be that young man who helped straighten out that unfortunate incident at the open-mike night. I really must thank you for that; if didn’t step in and do something, I would’ve had to call the police on him.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” He said, “anyone would’ve done the same thing.”

“Not just anyone,” she replied, “Ever since I’d known that…that young man, he’s always had a way of throwing his weight around. That wasn’t the first time he’s made a scene in my café, and if his parents keep encouraging him to come back, I don’t think it’ll be the last.”

“Really though, you don’t need to thank me.” He stressed, some of that guilt still fresh in his eyes. “I was no saint.”

“So, what can I get you two?”

“I’ll have my usual milkshake with some of your specialty waffles,” I said, “And Nick will have…?”

“I’ll have the same thing,” he declared, with an impish grin. “I trust Hazel’s taste.”

“Alright, but I’m warning you, this girl has a sweet-tooth.” She chuckled, pointing her thumb to me as she tucked her little order-book under the strap of her apron. “I’ll be back soon with your shakes.”

I watched briefly as she strode back towards the kitchen door, disappearing then reappearing to take another order. As I sat, chin resting in my palm as I got lost in another daydream, I wasn’t aware that Nick was staring at me again. When I thought of him sometimes, I imagined how he could hold so many emotions behind that extraordinary face; like he kept a handful of them in his pocket, ready to pull one out at any and every occasion. I’ve just never met a person who could feel as freely as fully as he did. Not when so many considered an honest display of feelings as a weakness. He never did, though-that’s where he and I differed. For so long, I was just so used to hiding everything. My feelings, my pain, even my joy. And to look at him, just putting everything out there…I wished I could be like him.

“What are you thinking?” He asked me, pulling me away from my thoughts.

“Nothing,” I said, playing absent-mindedly with the sleeve of my cardigan. “Nothing and everything.”

“You spend so much time in there, I wonder what that world inside your head is like.” He jested, “I sometimes think you’ve got castles made from books and an entire room, dedicated to kodaks.”

“I wish,” I said, laughing a laugh that couldn’t reach my eyes. “It’s just a place I go sometimes when the thoughts I have are too big to say aloud.”

We talked like this for a little while before Gertie returned with the milkshakes. I took a lingering sip of mine; enjoying the harmony of the sugary peppermint and the chunks of chocolate-malt. The taste brought back nice memories-fond ones. When Ingrid took me here for the first time and declared that she would order me the best shake I’d ever tasted. She was right! I’d tried other combinations, other flavours, but none compared to my old favourite. And if I tried to order this at any other café, I doubt they would make the effort to put Maltesers in a so-called ‘gourmet iced-drink’ that probably cost an arm and a leg on its’ own.

“Your waffles,” Gertie came back, just several minutes later, holding two, large plates of steaming, hot, just-made waffles. The heavenly scent of melting, white-chocolate and warm maple-syrup practically calling out to my salivating mouth. Between our plates were two gravy-boats; one filled with syrup, the other with chocolate sauce, and a small bowl of freshly-chopped strawberries. It was the ultimate breakfast/dessert. I looked over to Nick to see his reaction, only to find his knife and fork already poised and ready. I should’ve known he’d be a fan of the waffles; I just hoped his eyes weren’t too big for his stomach.

“You’re kidding, right?” He whispered, gazing at the waffles as if he were afraid they’d disappear at any second. “This entire plate is for me?”

“Uh huh,” I took hold of the syrup-boat, practically drowning my share before slicing a neat, little triangle. “Don’t worry-you’ll find a way to eat it all. Everybody else has.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how they do it.” He confessed, “You could never get this back where I lived; not unless you wanted to waste your entire allowance.”

We ate, and as we ate, we talked some more. He told me about what his old school was like; the beautiful grounds tended to perfection, the very best resources for every department, and not to mention a drama department that would make Flora water at the mouth. He told me of the time him and his mates set off a fire-cracker in the teacher’s bathroom; and the four weeks detention he got as punishment. I listened, I laughed, and I asked him how he even managed to get near the teacher’s bathroom without getting caught.

“We had Andy do a scan of the hall before we all went in; he had the matches, Oliver was keeping watch, and I, very successfully I might add, had smuggled in the firecracker through a hockey-stick case.”

“Do you even play hockey?”

“No!” He scoffed, “It was Alice’s-I said I was taking it to her at lunch for her P.E class. Of course, she never had P.E that day, but they didn’t know that.”

“And the point in this prank was?”

“Revenge! They get so uptight about kids needing to use the bathrooms during class, I thought they ought to know how it feels not to use the loo when they need to.”

“So, you’re the spokesman for clenched bladders, are you?”

“A hero, within my own right.” He smirked, shoving a large forkful of syrup-drenched waffle into his mouth. “My slogan: Free your asses during classes.”

I didn’t pay any mind to the tinkling of the bell, indicating more customers, but I when I saw who it actually was, I wondered if it did matter after all. Everyone knew them; they’ve been in the community, long before we even moved to Derby, and until two years ago, they’d been so helpful to mum and dad. When they wanted to start a dairy-farm, but didn’t know the first thing about it, it was them who took my parents under their wing and taught them everything they knew. She taught mum how to run the books and handle everything with the distributors, and he taught dad everything he knew about dairy cows, their state of health, and how to get judge the quality of their milk. I told Nick about them yesterday; confessed just how guilty it made me feel after Trevor was convicted. I didn’t think I’d have to feel that familiar tinge just a day after that.

“What is it?” He asked me, his eyes landing in the same direction.

“Mr and Mrs Schruss,” I whispered, casting my stare downward. “Trevor’s parents.”

“Do they usually come here?”

“Sometimes; but only ever on a weekday. I didn’t think for a moment they’d be here today.”

I watched with caution as they found a table on the other side of the café. Maybe it’d be easier this way; they wouldn’t see us, we could forget about them, and perhaps for once, I could be in the same room with them and not feel guilt I knew they had no right to instil in me. I hoped it could end up this way. Just like I hoped that people would soon forget about what happened, and my delicate self-esteem would build itself back up like nothing happened.

“We’ll ignore them,” He said, reaching across the table to gather my hand in his own. “they’ve got no reason to approach you, and you’ve got just as much right to be here as anyone else.”

He was right-they had no reason to approach me. But Nick? That was a different story. They’d never met Nick, face-to-face before, but all they knew of this new boy in Derby was that, one: he lived with the Kazia’s. And two: he assaulted their son. It was enough for them, I surmised, to confront us. And that was exactly what Mr. Schruss seemed to be thinking as he stood from the table and stormed over towards us. His fists clenching, his eyes narrowing, and his lips setting into a thin, white line along his face. Like a scar, I thought, like the one I had on my chin. Seemed fitting, in a way. A scar for a scar.

“I hoped they wouldn’t be letting you back in here for what you’d done.” He said to Nick. “I’ve got half a mind to have you banned from this place for assault.”

“Too bad you don’t decide who gets banned here and who doesn’t.” Nick retorted, meeting his stare with a fiery resilience. “And I’m not going to apologise to him if that’s what you’re after.”

“You watch what you say to me, young man!” He barked, “You’re in no position to talk back to me after you assaulted my son!”

“Perhaps you should take a second and think about why I had to assault him in the first place!” Nick stood up, coming eye to eye with the increasingly angered man. “I used to thing we were alike, you know. But the one thing we had in common makes me wish I never let him anywhere near my friend to begin with. And frankly, I don’t know how you can keep defending that greasy, little scumbag when he’s done nothing to deserve it.”

Please stop, Nick! Don’t antagonize them. He didn’t need to have them as an enemy.

“Don’t you dare talk about our son like that!” Mrs Schruss snarled, “He is a good boy; he’s smart, he’s hardworking and he’s honest! He had plans for his future, until the day he was charged.”

“Well, he should’ve thought of those plans before he went about, assaulting little girls!” Forget about making this argument discrete. The entire café was listening now; ears keen to the blows, speculating at the boy who’d done nothing so far but cause fights, against a couple they all respected for their hard-earned merits. “Oh, wait-I do have something to apologize for. I’m sorry I ever associated myself with Trevor Schruss; I hurt somebody I really care about because of it, and for that, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Oh Nick…he’d apologized before about what had happened at the open-mike night, he’d even stood up for me twice afterwards. I couldn’t believe that he had the gall to say it to Trevor’s parents, though! To tell them, his biggest defenders, just how much he regretted having any part in it, was beyond brave. It was going above and beyond. But it couldn’t last; unless he wanted to be banned as well, this would have to stop soon.

“She and her family have you fooled, boy!” Mr Schruss roared, his face nearly scarlet with fury. “That little trollop ruined our son’s life, for attention! Anyone with half a mind knows that.”

“What. Did you. Call her?!”

“Trollop,” Mrs Schruss sneered, “Chit. Conniving, little slut!”

Nick lunged; what he intended to do, I wasn’t sure exactly. But before he could get close to them, I grabbed onto his arm and held it tight. I didn’t like that Mrs Schruss, a woman who was usually so stoic and composed, had called me a slut in front of an entire café, as well as the staff any more than Nick did, but if he gave in to her malice, it’d only end up worse for him.

“Nick, come on, let’s go.” I pleaded quietly, tugging him in the other direction. “They’re not worth it.”

It took him a few seconds to snap out of his rage, but when he did, it was a gradual transition. I tugged him towards the counter to pay the bill and slowly pried him away from the fuming couple at the café, and away from The Square altogether. I wanted to take him somewhere to cool down. Somewhere we could talk to take our minds off of this. Only one place, I thought, scanning the shops for that shortcut. One place they wouldn’t dare to follow us.

“Let’s go to Lilac Park,” I suggested, “We can just sit and talk.”

The further we grew from the township, the calmer he seemed to grow. Out of sight, out of mind, right? And I didn’t care if we had more right to be there than they did; I couldn’t stand spending another second under the scrutiny of Trevor’s parents. For so long, they believed that I was the liar, that I ruined an innocent boy’s life. They believed it for so long, I even started to think it myself. And trying to convince yourself that you were a liar in a matter that just too believable was a difficult, painful thing to try and conceive.

When we made it to our special spot, Nick finally felt comfortable enough to release the last bit of tension left in his shoulders. Mr and Mrs Schruss had crossed a line in that café today, but the strange thing was that it wasn’t his own verbal attack he was upset about. It was mine.

“Why do you let them talk to you like that?” He finally came out with, “They had no right to do what they did back there- “

“Didn’t they?” I asked him, “They’ve got some right to be angry at me, Nick. For almost all of his life, Trevor’s been the apple of their eye; he was everything a good son should be and more. And then, all of a sudden, he’s being dragged through the mud because some girl they barely know the existence of accuses him of the unthinkable. Their boy, their golden-child was arrested and slandered in a courtroom, they had their own fair-share of humiliation, and no matter how hard they fought, nothing could make him into the kind of child they knew him to be. I know how they feel Nick: I’ve had to watch my parents go through the same thing.”

“Jesus Christ,” He grunted, clenching his fists so tight, his knuckles turned white. “Why do you always blame yourself for all this s**t? These people hurt you, Hazel, I hurt you, and you somehow think it’s your fault? It’s not right. People like Trevor, people like his parents are just rotten to the core. No amount of apologies or guilt is going to make that any different. And if I can tell you that none of this was ever your fault, shouldn’t you believe it?”

“I want to,” I said, my voice on the verge of crumbling. “But my history outweighs that belief every time.”

“So, forget about your history.” He urged, “forget about what those people think. It’s our future that matters the most, so think about that instead.”

“You say it as if it’s so easy,” I chuckled, smiling a wistful kind-of smile. “Like I can just stop my way of feeling, at the drop of a hat, and just pick a new way. I wish I could, you know. It’d be as easy as changing my clothes.”

“I’d like to do that too,” He said, “Only, it’d be my personality. If my family really didn’t like the person I was, they could just buy me a new me; someone better, kinder.”

“Then where would your old personality go? Back to the store?”

“It’d be thrown away. Nobody wants a sad, angry kid with no future.”

“Well, Nick, that’s a shame.” I said, my eyes falling to avoid his gaze. As striking as his eyes were to look at, the emotion behind them was so intense sometimes. Blinding, almost. “I don’t think you’re a sad, angry kid with no future. I think you’re real; and that’s a rare quality in a person.”

“If I could be so bold, I don’t think that anything bad that happens to you is any of your fault. Sometimes, bad people just do bad things to good people, and they aren’t punished for it.”

“So, then. We’re at our favourite park, we’ve still got three hours until the day is over, so what do you want to do?”

“Ah, but this is your day, Hazel. I said I wanted to spend the day, in the life of Hazel Kazia, and the day isn’t over just yet. So, if we’re not going anywhere then, tell me a story. What was the best birthday you’ve ever had?”

“The best birthday I’ve ever had?” I laughed, this time it was a real one. “Well, let’s take a walk then, because it’s a bit of a story.”

We set off through the forestry, along the narrow path, past the thick clusters of oaks and birches that stood, tall and proud, but naked and bare without their leaves to clothe them. The dry leaves crunching beneath our shoes, the soft ones slippery beneath the soles. One of the falling leaves clung to my hair, something I hadn’t even noticed until Nick pulled it out. Sliding his fingertips between the strands, gently plucking the offensive object free, then letting it fall with the rest of its’ comrades. As his hand left my hair, I could’ve sworn I’d felt those fingers brush my cheek. Barely for a second, but they were there. I couldn’t say it out loud, not right now, but feeling that faint brush brought me back to last night. The attic. Lying, cradled in his arms, looking into his eyes, feeling everything, he felt, and more. Being with him, I felt safe, warm and happy. As if all the trauma never existed, as if the pain was never there. I wanted to act on it, to be the one who made the first move, but…he was waiting for a story. And I was going to give it to him.

“It was my fifteenth birthday,” I began my tale, swiftly kicking the oncoming leaves in my path. “After the incident, things had been shaky at the best of times. On a good day, I could make it through school without anybody noticing me, my parents wouldn’t feel the need to walk on eggshells around me, and Audrey wouldn’t feel obligated to guard me twenty-four-seven. So, about a week before my birthday came around, they asked me what I wanted to do for the day. I could either go to a local production in the nearby town, go bowling with a group of friends, or to the closest beach. I chose the beach. Dad would borrow a friend’s mini-bus and drive me, Audrey and my friends out to the beach, with a picnic hamper mum made for us, then back home for dinner and cake. They were spoiling me, really. I knew they wanted to help me feel normal again, and I appreciated it. But at the time, I just thought it was in vain. Like when you fall down as a child, and you’re offered a lollypop. You know it’s not going to make you feel any better, but it feels like you’re almost soothing the ache.

“So, we drove out to that beach. Audrey, Ingrid, Leo, Marlon, Flora, Bridget and me. On the long drive, we all joked around in the back. And when we got there, dad left us to our own devices while he went to visit one of my mother’s cousin’s who had an engine-belt for him to fix. I set up our picnic-spot with the blanket, the umbrella, and the towels, and Audrey stayed to guard it. Wearing a two-piece that left little to the imagination, I might add.”

“That sounds like her,” He chuckled, “So what did you guys do?”

“For the first half, we all took turns jumping off the edge off the rock-ledge with the rope-swing. The swing was there for years, and if mum ever knew, she’d have a fit, but for the time being, we didn’t really care. We were just having so much fun, I wasn’t worrying about my parents or anything else.

“After that, we just messed around. Played some volleyball with a group of tourists, had swimming races to the pier and back, and made a sea-sculpture out of poor Leo. By the time we were done with him, he had the head of a school-boy, and the body of a buxom siren.”

“And that is an image I’ll always try to forget.” He said, laughing.

“After we were done playing, Audrey called us over to eat lunch. Mum had really outdone herself with the feast she’d given us; party-pies, egg sandwiches-tasted much nicer than they smelt, caramel cakes, and everyone’s favourite-mini-Dutch pancakes. Compliments of The Square. We ate, we drank, and right after they gave me my birthday presents. A box of fudge from Marlon-this Cornish stuff I was addicted to after grandma sent me some from a trip to Cornwall. A charm bracelet from Flora; one charm for each year we’d known each other. A book on photographers throughout history; Leo’s gift, without a doubt. A pair of shoes from Bridget; she said if I was going to go my entire life without wearing heels, I might as well have a nice substitute. And one of my favourite things from Ingrid; my DVD of singin’ in the rain. I think she got sick of going to see it with me at the revival house, she just bought me the DVD to be done with it. Last, but not least, Audrey gave me her present. She’d been on sss for over a month, looking for it, but as it turned out, one of Thomas’s friends, who was living in London at the time, knew where to find them at a left-over stock store.”

“What was it?”

“A video camera,” I said, “One of those fifties models that you crank with a handle. I thought at that moment, I must have the best big sister in the world! Bridget had a big sister, Ingrid had two, but none of them would’ve gone to the trouble of getting them a vintage camera for their birthday. Once I got it out of the box, I started using it straight away. I got the entire group in the video; Flora doing her sand-dancing, Marlon trying to look like some body-builder on display, and Audrey, trying to look like some swimsuit model. We went back home later and had the birthday cake, but that little film was the highlight of the day. After dad took the video to be converted to a DVD, I kept it. And whenever I want to cheer myself up, I watch it.”

“That’s really cool,” He said, surprising me by not throwing in some silly joke. “I wish I had a birthday like that; nothing forbidden or any typical, teenage stuff. Just fun. Real fun.”

“I’m curious though, why do you want to hear so much about me?” I asked him, “I’m not used to talking so much, and surely you must be getting tired of it.”

“No, I’m really not.” He said, “I like learning about you. When I first met you, you barely said a word. It’s like you were putting everyone else’s social interests ahead of your own. I know you’re shy, but I also know that you’ve got a lot to share.”

“I’ve got no more to share than the average person.”

“But they don’t tell their stories like you do. You make me feel like I’m right there beside you; looking back on it all.”

We’d been walking for so long, I hadn’t even realised that we were back at the lake. Standing, leaning face-to-face against the thick, rough bark of the lone, chestnut tree. The only one near Lilac Lake, standing out from the rest with a majority of its’ leaves still attached. With the blood red, contrasting against the pale-brown branches, it was a beautiful clash of colours and texture. It was here, we suddenly fell silent. The roughness of the bark, clinging to my clothes, keeping me there as we continued to gaze at one another. It was another moment of unspoken feelings. Ones I didn’t think I could ignore this time around.

“Hazel?”

“Yes?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” The answer came so easily. So unbelievably easily.

“Then…can I try something?”

His hand was on my shoulder, warm and strong, caressing me through the soft fabric of my cardigan. My heart drummed a loud, wild metronome; not the controlled, choreographed beat I was used to. My stomach must’ve been doing backflips, making me giddy and light-headed with…well, I wasn’t sure what to call this feeling. It wasn’t normal, but it wasn’t bad either. It was…it was…

The first thing I thought of was how they felt. His lips, against mine. They were soft, plump, a little chapped and strong. Very, very strong. Being kissed by Nick Koster should’ve felt all sorts of wrong. I should’ve felt scared, angry, guilty just thinking about it. But that was the beauty in a kiss that felt this good, wasn’t it? For as long as it lasted, it tricked me. Made me think that this wasn’t wrong after all. If it was wrong, he would’ve felt like a cold fish, wouldn’t he? His hands would’ve felt grimy and rough on my shoulders. But it was nothing like that. It was nothing like I’d ever felt before.

At first, I didn’t know what I should’ve done. I was letting him kiss me, but I wasn’t kissing back. So I tried something I wasn’t sure of. I followed intuition. I touched his waist, just slightly, and copied what he was doing with his mouth. I was kissing back. It was enough reassurance for him; sliding his hands up to cradle my head as the pressure of his lips hardened. His kiss growing evermore passionate. I was glad he was holding on tighter though. His strength kept me from floating up, up, up in pure bliss.

At that moment, I decided that I was going to remember all of his. The bluntness of the bark beneath my clothed skin, the sun warming my exposed cheek, and the look in his eyes when we broke off from one another. Drunk on that same feeling that was coursing through me, pumping through my veins like a rush of adrenaline. I never thought that my first kiss was going to be this memorable-but then, is anyone’s? I’ve heard stories that a first kiss is never what it’s cracked up to be. The boy was always awkward and inexperienced; their tongues apparently feeling like a cold, slippery eel in their mouths. Nick wasn’t like that, he knew what he was doing. How it was supposed to make me feel.

“That was…”

“I know,” was all I could muster. “I know.”

“I…I think we ought to be getting back,” he said, “I think nature’s caught up with us.”

“Good idea,” I replied, “We didn’t get to finish our waffles, anyway. We can make something up at home.”

I didn’t even think he could guess that this trip to Lilac Park could change just about everything-and he seemed to know so much more than I did about romance. We both knew, deep down that we couldn’t keep dancing around our feelings forever, but today had pushed us over that fine line between romance and friendship. He kissed me; there was no other word for it. He kissed me, and I kissed him back. Now? Now I was forced to face the truth. That these feelings I had were romantic ones. I liked him, I wanted him, and he wanted me too.

Oh, this was all so crazy! The first guy I ever liked was the one guy I wasn’t supposed to have. Nick Koster was wild, unpredictable and passionate; I used to be scared of him, I should be scared of him. But instead of that old fear and resentment was something I wasn’t used to. A power I couldn’t control. And now…now I was questioning everything. Those promises I’d made to myself, never to let a boy make a fool of me, the way my sister and her friends used to talk about their futures with handsome, dark-haired husbands, and the way those conversations scared me away from a set future, all tied up a neat, little ribbon. I knew I kept on repeating it, but this was all so different. For so long, I dreamed of a future where I could be a carefree, respected photographer, travelling around the world. And then this happened and threw everything off-balance. My future was blurred, for the first time, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.