Kill me now.
Sunlight poured in through the wrap round windows of my front room come makeshift bedroom in the trailer.
My head felt like it was being held in a vice of pressure. It throbbed with a pulse of its own. My mouth and throat were sandpaper dry with a foul taste that stretched down into my esophagus. I felt burning acid in my chest, leading down into the bubbly, sloshing, tumbling mess that was my stomach.
My phone buzzed and jangled against the plastic Formica cover of the fold down dining table.
It's skittered across the surface in what almost looked like death throes as it threatened to fall off the edge. It was trying to commit phone suicide. I knew how it felt, yet I managed to propel myself forward and catch it just in time. The momentum made me giddy. It was no easy feat in my state, but any self congratulations were short lived as Francesca shrilled down the phone.
"I've texted you twice this morning Jay, don't make me come down there, where the bloody hell have you been?" She was not a happy camper.
Where had I been? Images of last night played back like a mental movie. Obviously a horror title as it reached its climax. I winced inwardly. Francesca continued.
"Charles has a birthday party at that dreadful indoor play place at 10 o'clock this morning. Lord knows how they cram them into that place every hour on the hour all day Saturday. It's not the most hygienic of places so remember the anti-bac." She hung up.
The indoor play place, hmmm, just what I needed with my very first hangover.
Screaming kids competing with gossiping parents and piped in pop music. Something else? I tried to concentrate but it made everything hurt.
Of course. Just peachy. The play centre was in the fairground complex. Who freaking ray.
I would have jumped at the opportunity to have an excuse to be at the fair yesterday. Yet today, it was the last place on earth I want to go.
At least it was early. There was every chance Parker wouldn't be there. Parker. He had a name. Sure it was a surname, but it was more than I had before.
What was it with the English schools and the use of surnames? I felt a sharp pain and I blew out a deep breath. I considered the possibility I might never discover his first name. Ever.
I closed my eyes and despite wanting to dig out the pain in my head with a dull spoon, images of Parker played through my mind.
His closely shaven head. His chiseled delicate features. His deep chocolate brown eyes framed in long eyelashes. Masculine, dark but delicate all at the same time.
Even in that moment, when I felt so rough, he made me feel perhaps having a body was still worth it after all. If only for the slimmest of hopes that he may one-day touch it.
Then everything Loaf had told me flooded back in. I was even more certain Parker was innocent. He had certainly gone above and beyond to get me home safely. He hadn't taken any sort of advantage.
I caught myself in the mirror. My hair was a bird nest and I had dried spittle on my chin. How attractive. Maybe he just didn't like me? I bet Karenina woke up beautiful every damn day.
Thoughts of Karenina lead back to Taylor. All at once I felt overwhelmed with shame. I had practically thrown myself him and been rejected, all whilst carrying an Olympic size torch for his best mate.
Last night was a train wreck. Even with a complete do-over I still managed to screw up.
I never wanted to step foot outside of this caravan ever again.
YOU ARE READING
FlipFlops & ParkerRomance
18 year old American Jay is stuck on an English coastal island. Riddled with anxiety, she can’t find who she is or what to do in her self help books. The only thing she knows she wants is Parker, a fairground guy, surrounded by danger, who doesn’t d...