Parker Stevens, I Can Hold a Grudge

Parker Stevens; Chapter Eighteen

                "Was he worth it?" I asked her.

                "Some days, no. But most days, a very big yes. He laughed at me while I screamed bloody murder while giving birth to your lovely face but he did cry when you were born though.  That may be that only moment I'll ever see your father cry." She smiled dreamily, her eyes glazing over as she rehashed old memories. 

                "You met dad in high school?" I questioned her. "You never told me that."

                "You never asked," She shrugged simply before standing up. Her hands pushed the speech across the table towards me. "You can finish reading if you want. I'm going to go call your father." 

                "Okay, I will." I lied. She smiled at me before kissing me on the cheek and heading out of the kitchen. My eyes rolled on their own as I thought about my mom's failed speech. The only thing that reassured her that I had it under control was me lying to her face. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as much as it used to, lying to her. I used to feel extreme guilt whenever I lied to my mom. But now...? Not even a spec to be found. Well, maybe a small sliver deep down in the pits of my heart. 

                My mother’s laugh echoed through the house as she talked to my dad. I slid out of the stool and grabbed my bag out of the front hallway before walking to my room, her laughter drifting all the way to my room. I shut the door with my hip; dropping my bag on my bed before going over to my desk and flipping open my laptop. The machine whirred to life and the screen brightened with the login screen. I quickly typing in my password and waited as the computer loaded itself up. Finally, after a few moments of waiting, it stopped the small hourglass from turning and allowed me to do whatever I wanted. I stuck in the USB and pulled open the files, knowing exactly what I was going to do.

                Ah, internet, how I love you!

                My hands ran over the keyboard and typed in the website known as ‘Facebook.’

                As soon as I got there, I made sure my chat was offline so no one could spot me. I went over to create a group, and clicked it. I titled the group Parker’s Poetry, and then made sure it was on private. I put up a few of the amateur poems from 2009 as wall posts then began inviting. I invited every person that I had on facebook from our school, except for Parker and Teagan of course. Soon people had taken interest, and they started liking the poetry I had posted. I began posting more of them, taking my time and knowing perfectly well that he would be a laughing stock by tomorrow.

                Before I pushed away from my computer, I posted one last poem, knowing I would post more in a few hours. I knew people were going to question of the poetry was real or not so I made sure to say the dates of all the poetry. Hopefully people being as gullible as they are will see past the holes and just believe that he wrote them.

                Now, I needed to go out and buy the same lock as Parker to complete the next stage in my plan. Also, I needed to find a place that sold spiders. Real or fake. Either would do.

                My mind floated back to earlier, and I winced. The words Greg had said hurt, and I couldn’t help but be utterly surprised that he liked me. Well, he had liked the old Grace, but not so much this one. I should have said something to him; he was the only one that actually cared what happened to me after the incident last Friday, something to make him understand that I didn’t want to hurt him. But I did. That last look he gave me said it all.

                It hurt to think that I had just lost one of my best friends. I mean, really, he was that. He drove me around a lot, hung out with me even when his friends weren’t around, he even helped me out with my chemistry homework because he was a science genius and I unfortunately was not.