Page 1 of Scar

Chapter 1

Maeve's POV

Today is the first day of the fall semester, and of course, I'm not prepared. I woke up late, I lost a shoe somehow, and I missed the bus. Overall, I'm off to a great start. I don't know why they even call it fall in Texas when it's always so dang hot, I'm sweating half a block down from my apartment. If it wasn't the first day, I'd skip my first class today and catch a later bus. But I don't want to be known for the entire semester as the girl who skips the first day. So, that leads us here, to me running like an idiot down the Houston streets.

The college is two miles from my apartment. I thought that was close enough when I rented the place. Clearly, I was wrong. Maybe I should've asked one of my roommates to drive me to school. Carlie doesn't have her first class until noon, and Sean doesn't have his until ten. Either one of them would've been pissed that I'd woken them up, but they would've done it. Heck, Carlie probably would've just thrown her car keys at my face and told me to leave her alone. Yep, I definitely should've done that.

I make it to class with only a minute to spare. That gives me enough time to throw my bag in an empty seat and rush out into the hallway with a can of spray deodorant and the baby wipes I always keep in my bag.

I like to be prepared.

I quickly wipe the sweat off my arms and face, dousing myself in a hefty amount of deodorant and shake out my shirt so it's no longer stuck to my back. When I come back in, everyone is staring at me. Wonderful. So, instead of being the girl who skips the first day, I'm the girl who stinks. I think I rather would've been the one that skipped.

I take my seat, trying to give a friendly wave to everyone that stares at me, but I'm humiliated. I hope that means this was my bad for the day, leaving the rest of the day to actually go well.

"Now that we're all seated, welcome to Environmental Conservation 101." The professor announces. I pull my laptop out of my bag and open up to where I will be typing the class notes. I also have my phone set to record the lecture. I don't want to miss anything. I can't afford to retake a class.

The professor waits a minute until everyone's laptops are ready before beginning. I think I like this guy already. He seems considerate. This is going to be a great semester. "Normally, I would begin with the taboo topic, overpopulation. But I think this semester we will switch things up. We're going to start with discussing global warming and the ozone." He says. That's going to throw me off, I already studied up on this guy's opinion on overpopulation. I hadn't studied what he's announced his views are on global warming. Crap.

The professor starts the lecture on the effects of global warming, what is causing it, what we as humans would need to do to stop it, and how much longer it is predicted we have if we continue down the path we are on. Standard stuff, I'm typing away so fast that my fingers are cramping, but I can't stop. I don't even have time to fix my spelling mistakes, so I'm thankful that the lecture is being recorded in case something I type doesn't make sense.

But then the professor moves onto things that could be harming the ozone layer, simple things that we use every day. "That is why aerosoles, like Miss Henderson bathed herself in right outside my door, are killing this planet. Good job, Ms. Henderson." He announces, staring right at me.

I'm red as a tomato, I'm sure of it. As soon as this class is over, I'm throwing away every single item I own that comes in an aerosol. I hide my face behind my screen, praying that nobody is staring at me. But, of course, I hear some jerk in the front mutter something about me choosing beauty over having clean oxygen for his great grandkids to breathe in. Maybe this semester won't be as great as I thought it would. It's only the first day, and I'm already a loser and an outcast.

The rest of my day seems to go a little better. The cafeteria has plenty of options for every dietary need. It appears clean and well maintained this year, and everyone is giving each other space in line.

Last year was a mess, but I was told over the summer they fired the woman who managed the dining hall. This year seems a lot better organized, and I’m so grateful for that. I'm also glad it isn't too crowded right now, I don't talk to a lot of people, and Carlie will still be in her first class by now. Sean is out of class, but I am guessing he would leave campus for lunch. I have the meal card. There's no way I am wasting it by not eating here as often as I possibly can.

I grab a tray and head right for the gluten-free area of the cafeteria. I grab a bit of the sheet pan vegetables and a vegan, gluten-free sausage. I drizzle the whole thing in balsamic vinegar and head towards an empty table. I'm grateful that it seems like the dishes, the silverware, and all of the cooking utensils are separate for the gluten-free section of the cafeteria.

It feels like they've done enough research to make sure it is safe for someone with celiac disease, like me. It makes me much less fearful to eat this school year, I can’t afford to have to take time off due to eating contaminated food.

Ipeople watchwhile I eat, too shy to approach anyone, and probably too quiet to be approached. But that's fine, I have my select group of friends. We just don't seem to have lunch time that aligns this semester. No big deal. I'm sure we'll all end up occasionally meeting up for dinner like we have for the last two years. I usually skip out on their dinners off campus, but I always join in when everyone eats in the dining hall.

I'm staring out one of the windows when a girl comes and sits across from me. I whip my head around to stare at her, and dang. She is gorgeous. Long blonde hair in gorgeous beach waves, beautiful blue eyes, perfect makeup, and a country girl style outfit that belongs on a music video.

She's flawless, and she's smiling at me.

Crap, I've been staring for too long without saying anything. Say something. Anything. "Hey…" I say. I want to slap myself for being so dang awkward. But this girl just smiles at me and starts eating her food. "Hi, darling. I just needed a place to sit, maybe make a few friends. I'm new to Houston. Can I sit with you?" She asks.

I want to point out that she is already sitting with me, so telling her no would be rude. But I don't want her to leave, she seems so nice. "Of course, I'm Maeve."I introduce. This bombshell of a southern belle reaches across and shakes my hand. "Shelby. I'm a literature major. What's yours?" She asks sweetly. I didn't picture that, I don't know what I pictured, maybe modeling? That's not a major... I don't know, maybe nursing? She looks like she'd be absolutely gorgeous in scrubs. Every man within a hundred miles would smash his thumb with a hammer if she was the one patching them up. "Botany." I answer with a smile.

We sit in comfortable silence, she asks me the occasional question, I always reciprocate. I don't want to be rude, but I am not good at small talk. If she wants to debate about the evolution of man, or the existence of aliens or ghosts, or even talk about conspiracy theories. I could talk all day, no problem. But just creating topics out of thin air? No can do.

By the time our lunches are done, we've sat together for over an hour. We exchanged numbers, and I promised to text her the next time I felt like bull riding. Don't ask. She mentioned it. Said it's so much fun and that it really gets the boys going. There's no way I'm doing that, but I would gladly drive to whatever western bar she goes to and watch her do it.

"I've gotta run, I have a class across campus in ten minutes." Shelby says warmly. She even hugs me before sprinting off across the center of campus. I like Shelby, she seems sweet.

Hopefully, Carlie will like her.

Chapter 2

Leon's POV

I've been sitting in this room for twenty minutes, just staring at my patient in the chair across from me. He's telling me that his antipsychotics aren't working. He already admitted that he's not taking them because someone told him not to, that someone was made up.

We've been going in circles since he walked in, and honestly, I'm at a loss of what to say to him. Normally, in his condition, being a threat to himself and others, I wouldn't say anything. I would have him committed. But I know that being put on a psychiatric hold is a terrifying and traumatic experience. One that I wouldn't wish on anyone, I should know. So, I'm left trying to reason with this man before I make that decision. "Mr. Porter, I can assure you that the medication is safe, I have already double-checked every single pill in that bottle. None of them have been switched or tampered with." I reassure him.