“Too much time on my hands!” We sang together, our loud monotone voices clashing against each other. “Too much time on my hands!”
Wyn jumped off the boxes, hair and arms flying, to land on the plush carpet in an air guitar solo. Her arms swung and wiggled in an attempt to play the nonexistent instrument she held in her hands. Her short, auburn hair flipped around her face as she swung her head in an attempt to “rock out”.
The guitar solo ended. Wyn jumped up again and grabbed my hands to push me into her crazy dancing. We jumped around the floor like clowns, pulling out dance moves that our parents must have done, in our rambunctious attempt at dancing.
“Please tell me you’ve been to a Styx concert,” Wyn yelled between verses.
“Do they still have concerts?” I asked, jumping around alongside her.
“Yes!” Wyn grabbed my hands and began to spin me around as she continued to yell verses and choruses full blast. And, quick as it had come, the song ended and we both collapsed on the floor, laughing at ourselves.
“So,” Wyn sighed after a moment. “You gonna show me your scar?”
Her question was so innocent, but my reaction was anything but. Time seemed to stop. My heart stopped. My breathing stopped. The only thing that didn’t stop was my stomach, which flipped as my head screamed at me to run.
“What scar?” Maybe if I played dumb, I could deter her. I had already checked that my hair covered the right side of my head, and the dreaded mark. It didn’t. I was always so careful; I don’t know how I didn’t notice.
“Oh, come on,” Wyn sighed as she sat up beside me, draping her arm over me and hindering my escape. “That one, right there below your ear. It almost looks like a dragon. That is very cool.” She leaned forward and looked at it. “I’m kind of jealous.”
“A dragon?”
“Yeah, here’s his tail and his head.” She traced a shape through the darker portions of the brand, her fingertip tickling the skin that never got touched.
I jumped up from under her arm and ran to the mirror that hung above her dresser. My hair naturally fell over the mark, so I pulled it back to get a better look. I had never really looked at it, but Wyn was right—the dark lines that moved through the raised skin did look like a dragon.
“How’d you get it?” Wyn asked, coming up behind me and leaning on the dresser. “Accidental maiming, fell off a stage, helicopter rescue gone wrong?”
I hesitated. I didn’t know how much I trusted her. I just continued to stare at it in the mirror, part of me wanting to touch it; the other part continuing to scream at me to run.
“Nothing as cool as that,” I managed, making it clear I wasn’t going to elaborate.
“Have you shown it to Ryland? Boys love scars; I bet he would love this one.” Her voice had taken on a strange quality that made me a bit uncomfortable.
I spun away from the mirror to face her. Her eyes were wide and eager.
“No! I would never show Ryland! You’re the first person to see it, besides my mom.” And my dad, but I wasn’t going to get into that.
“Really? Wow, now I feel special.” She slugged me playfully in the shoulder. “But you should totally not hide that away, that thing is awesome!” She bounced back over to the bed, landing in the center, springs creaking.
“Not to me,” I mumbled.
Wyn continued to look at me, as if she expected something. I wasn’t going to give her the benefit of an answer, not today anyway. Besides, what could I say that was believable? My life could be considered normal until it came to that mark and then it was full of mysterious illnesses and disappearing fathers.
The way this evening had turned out had become very confusing and complicated. Why did the past few days have to be so… weird? I just wanted to hide and forget that Wyn had ever caught a glimpse of the ugly thing, forget that odd men were watching me, forget that I could throw girls into ceilings, forget that Ry kept trying to kiss me.
“I gotta go.” I was sure the disappointment in my voice was not missed. I grabbed my bag and started heading toward the door.
“Hey, Jos.” Wyn caught up with me, catching me before I disappeared through the door. Her inadvertent use of Ryland’s nickname for me sent a shiver up my spine. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I didn’t know it was a taboo thing. I’ll pretend I never saw it.” She smiled at me, her voice sincere.
“Thanks, Wyn, It’s just—” I hesitated; I had to tell her something. “It’s just that, that… thing… has kind of ruined my life.”
“Don’t let it anymore, ’kay?”
I nodded and her face brightened.
“So, don’t go. I won’t mention it again, and we still have a stupid movie to watch.”
“Thanks, Wyn, but I do have to go. I actually do have homework to do.” I tried to sound indifferent, but I wasn’t sure it worked.
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
I just nodded in agreement, shutting the door to her apartment behind me.