I never feel lonely if I got a book -they're like old friends. Even if you're not reading them over and over again, you know they're there. And they're part of your history. They sort of tell a story about the journey of your life.
-Emilia Fox

"Take it off." I growl at Asher for the hundred time.

He just grits his teeth and shakes his head leaning away from the both of us, as if what we were instructing would hurt him.

"No one will judge you for them man, just keep yourself safe." Link says, and I realize something.

That just like me I have never seen him without a long sleeve. Even when swimming we both had tops on that covered every thing.

And I'm guessing that just like me he has scars, that the one on his neck is the only one he can't cover.

"You know what," I grit out, surprising even myself. "You can wear my hoodie. It will fit you just fine, it used to be my brothers and you're all big dudes."

I curse Link for only wearing a tee to school.

T-shirts.

Tsk.

Still, he refuses, and I can see the holes the chemicals are burning into his jacket, the ones that will lead to his skin.

Mint green eyes dart around the classroom, nervous and I realize all eyes are on us and the chemical mishap we made.

"Everyone turn the fuck around, don't keep watching like some fucking creep enjoying a strip show." I growl loudly, making half the room flinch. "And if I catch you looking I'll make sure you don't have the opportunity to even fucking see again. Is that clear?"

Half the room answers a quick yes, but they all turn and look away.

They're afraid.

Even the teachers.

"That means you too, Weasley." I tell him, he only scoffs but does so anyway.

"You can't-"

"And I won't." I say, assuring Asher I won't look before he finishes speaking.

I silently turn to the side, eyes glaring at the back of student's heads so hard I see a few squirm.

Once I see his sweatshirt dropped at his feet I peel my own off, suddenly feeling naked.

This doesn't stop me from holding it out to him -aware he's probably starring at my arms.

My arms with the hundreds of circular scars from cigarettes.

My arms with lines from razors going up to my bicep -none of which I made myself.

My arms with tiny words carved into my skin raging from names to insults.

My left arm with a long, thick scar that shows where someone tried to kill me and my right arm where a knife drew a moon into my skin.

I always liked the name Wolf, and even someone tormenting me with it won't change that.

These arms that show I am strong, and I can survive.

Even scars can look like stars if you wear them well, and I've always burned bright.

I'm a fucking sun right now.

"I'm done." Asher mumbles quietly. I snap my eyes to him, seeing how tight the hoodie is doesn't make my heart pound fadt like it normally would, it just relieves me because now I know he's okay.

Even if I'm not.

I really should have taken my medicine last night -I can already feel a migraine forming behind my eyes.

"Go back to jerking off or whatever the fuck you were doing." I bark at the class, who instantly jump into conversation.

As more and more people look over to me, whispers break out.

I simply roll my eyes and sit down, flipping off one guy who won't stop staring and growling lowly at the girl who thinks it's a good idea to lean over from behind me and poke a scar.

"Why is it people have such a hard time minding their own god damn business?" I shout, rising back up again. Asher and Link are still frozen beside me but I could care less at the moment. "Its a body, if you're so interested go look in a fucking mirror but leave me out of the constate wall of stupidity you slam up as you somehow manage to think I don't notice you staring. All you assholes, fuck off."

This gets people to look away, but I know no matter what I do people will talk so I fish my own phone and ear buds out of my backpack, plug them in and turn it up so loud that I know people across the room can hear it.

I stay tense, now unable to relax with the two best friends staring at me.

"Asher sit down and close your fucking mouth Link, you look like a dying fish." I eventually snap, clutching onto the book I'm desperately trying to escape into.

I don't read.

At all.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Anxiety.

Tsk.

Then the bell rings, I practically shoot out of my seat and am the first one out of class and in the hall.

Fuck me for having lunch next, and for having it with the two people who I think I just gave strokes to.

Like usual I get their after them, sitting in my normal spot with no food -I think I'd throw up.

I begin to read like normal when I notice how they aren't talking and how two pairs of eyes are focused on my arms rather than my face.

"God both are you are acting like you've never seen arms before. Quit it." I say, rolling my eyes.

But I'm sure even a blind person could see hiw rigid, how uncomfortable I am right now.

They stay silent, just texting one another on their phones.

"Boo." I whisper causing them both to jump. "Weaklings."

"Aw, and here I was thinking you were the weak one." A snotty voice sneers from behind me making me tense completely.

Mason fucking Dallas.

"Just look at them arms," He slaps my right wrist where the moon is. I lazily shift my gaze up to meet him, appearance unaffect. "Not quite as...interesting as five years ago but I think the pale white looks quite nice against your skin."

I snort, turning to swing my legs over the back of the chair and rest my arms on the table. It seems like a lazy move to face him but its actually to get the scars out of reaching distance.

"I always thought blue looked best on me." I tsk, shaking my head in disbelief. "I've been lied to. Can you believe it! What a horrendous crime."

"You're such a freak, you have no fucking emotions. Are you retarded or do you just want to kill yourself again?" Mason spits.

"Yuck dude, say it don't spray it." I grimace, wiping my face. Then I'm back to smirking. "And I don't recall wanting to kill myself in the first place. Man, I learn something new every day."

"You're such a freak. Not to mention you hang out with a-"

"I'm stopping you there." I kick up, making the toe off my boots hit his chin hard enough to snap his jaw shut. "Now I really give zero shits what you say about me, but once you cross the line of the people I actually do care about there's no going back. I suggest you go back to circle jerking with all the other jocks before I do something we both regret learning a person could do to another."

"Freak." The idiot calls me one more time before turning on his heel and walking away like a pansy.

"Fucking coward, god damn. If he wants me dead so much why doesn't he learn to kill someone, like shit." I growl, swinging back around. My fists are clenched so tight I'm sure I just broke the skin on my palm. "Why-"

I cut myself off, realizing they're both staring at me like I just pulled a unicorn from my ass again.

Fuck this.

I might not be willing to treat anyone differently because of shit like this but they sure are.

Grabbing my book I toss my backpack onto a shoulder, storming straight out the doors and to my motorcycle.

And I'm not going home.

“I have something to show you guys.” I say, stepping beside where my mom and dad are at the stove.

“What is it?” Mom asks, glancing at me.

Dad leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, “Alright. Let’s see it. Tattoo or injury.”

I grin while my mom gasps, spinning to face us both.

My grin soon turns into a smirk as I wink at my dad, “Tattoo.”

He snorts, smirking down at my internally panicking mom as well. “Called that.”

“Where?” Mom exclaims, trying to take in the entirety of my body like the tattoo will suddenly start glowing.

Instead of saying anything I just pull down my sleeve, revealing the white pad over my wrist. I peel that back as well, holding it out to them.

My dad silently observes the moon I had covered in ink until it appeared real and then in the center, shadowed in black is golden letterd spelling 'Loved' in a simple font.

He nods, approving it with a real smile, then we both turn to Mom for her input only to make me say-

“She’s crying.” I observe, looking at my mom who tries to wave both me and my dad off as fat tears roll from her grey eyes.

This is where I got my silent cry from.

“What do I do?” Dad whispers.

“Comfort her?” I whisper back.

“How?”

“Start with a hug.”

“A what?” Dad asks, looking taken aback, as if he doesn't know what it is.

"A hug Dad, a hug." I deadpan. "You know where you wrap your arms around someone and squeeze but not too hard."

"Alright smart ass, I know what a hug is."

I motion to my still-crying Mom to proce my point. "Could have fooled me."

As if to prove my point Dad hugs my Mom, which completely hides her body from sight making me snicker...until I remember I'm shorter than her anyway.

"Also," I clearly my throat. "Asher got chemicals on him and they were dangerous but he wouldn't take his sweatshirt off. He didn't have anything on under. His arms look like mine, I think, or he has scars or something."

"What'd you do about that?" My dad asks, simply picking up my mom in the hug so he can face me.

She starts struggling to pull away, even glancing at me for help but we both act like we don't notice so she gives up.

"I gave him mine." I answer, looking away from them. "Nobody saw him."

"But everyone saw you." Mom says quietly.

I shrug, looking back up to keep steady eye contact with her.

This alone tells them my thoughts: It's worth it.

"Can I skip school tomorrow? I promise I'll go back Monday but I don't want to deal with it all." My voice is bored, but they both know better than to believe I'm okay. "Plus Xander's visiting tomorrow and since you're meeting with Uncle Julian someone should be here to welcome him back to hell."

"Only if you make me some brownies Queen."

"Deal." I say, smirking up to Dad. "Thanks."