"Everything is fine until you come back." He mutters, kicking a rock.
"Some people never get to come back."
.
In which two lonely people find company in one another, even if they are opposites.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
I walked through the doors, Parker behind me, reading off random things we could do first.
He doesn't even have the list in his hand. He has photographic memory.
Of course he does. He was known for being a very multi-talented kind of guy, so why should I expect anything less?
"We could go camping tonight." He says. I glance at him, ignoring the curious/shocked expressions from the fellow nosey peers.
"Its a school night, Parker." I remind him. He snaps his fingers. I sit in my usual seat in the corner of the room, and he sits beside me.
"Hmm. Oh, I know!" He says, a smile growing over his features. "We coul-"
"Hey West! What are you doing?! Get over here, idiot!" One of his friends call out to him. He looks over. He looks back to me.
"Your one of those guys, aren't you? Yes, yes you are." I decide before even giving him a chance to reply.
"What?" He asks, his smile slowly fading.
"Your one of those guys that sit with the jocks and act like them for reputation, but you don't want it, do you? You don't care about the reputation, or the popularity. You just like the game, and with the game, comes the issue of those douchebags." I murmur quietly. His lips twitch.
"And you figured this out how?" He queries.
I lean forward slightly. "Because if you were one of them, you would look at that list, and you'd laugh at me. You'd say I have no life, and I never will have a life because guys like those ones are bullies. But here you are wanting to help me fulfill my list." I whisper. That heart-breaking, perfect smile finally breaks free, dimples showing.
"West!" His friend calls out to him. Parker sits back in his seat, smiling to himself as the teacher begins to speak. His friends size me up, glaring. I just giggle as I look at the teacher.
Maybe Parker West isn't as cliché as people make him out to be.
. . .
"What are we doing in a plant shop?" I ask curiously.
"Number 20 on the list: Raised Anything Whatsoever. It doesn't matter, right? So we're going to raise a plant." He says.
"We're? Wow. Its always been my dream to be the baby mama of the Parker West's child." I say, faking a dreamy look and tone. He laughs and tugs me into isles. "I like that one." I lie, pointing at some random plain green plant. He looks at me with a bored expression.
"We're getting you some flowers." He says. "Hmm. Flower. I like that nickname. It suits you. Come on, Flower." He says, testing it out. I shake my head as he pulls me into the flower section. Colors. A lot of them.
"Is this because my entire apartment is black and white?" I ask in monotone, not liking that he was mocking my bland style. He looks back, sending me a wicked smile that gave me all the information I needed. He picks up a red flower of some sort and tugs me by the wrist to the counter. The lady behind the counter looks down at it.
