Beware of the Parker Boys *UNDER EDITING*

Chapter Five

This chapter has been re-written and events have changed.

Things were quiet the next day when we all woke up around noon. The house was a mess, and the night slightly a blur. Everyone moved slowly, not wanting to stir the alcohol that still slushed around our upset stomachs.

Each of us held a trash bag, going around and gathering cups and bottles, anything that splayed about the house that wasn't meant to be there. Several cars still remained parked, the owners being too intoxicated to drive home, resulting in them phoning for an Uber.

I kept my distance, embarrassed of being part of such a big scene the night before.

Stay away from him.

His words drift through my pounding head, as I throw the last of the trash from the living room into my full trash bag. I tie the top, heading for the front door that we had open wide, the trashcan just down the steps.

"Hey, I think that's the last of it." Dalton says, bringing me relief while I remove the rubber gloves from my hands, throwing them in the trash can as well.

"I didn't think we would see the day."

Glancing at the clock, I find that it has reached three in the afternoon. I yawn, smoothing my hands over my hair that was tied into a very messy, high ponytail.

"I'm sorry things went down like that last night, especially with that being your first party." He tells me reluctantly, making me shake my head.

"No, I'm sorry. I hate that Rodger had to jump in the middle of something like that."

"It's not the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last." He shrugs in his attempts to comfort me.

I hear his stomach growls and he gives it a slight pat, his eyes meeting mine and his left eyebrow raises.

"Let's get something to eat."

He announces the plan to the rest of the house, all of us splitting to take showers and change. Walking down the hall, I find the door of Rodger's room open, quickening my heart rate as I peak in slowly.

Standing with his back to me, he pulls a white t-shirt over his head, pulling it to rest over the waistband of his dark jeans. His dark hair was wet and messy from his shower, the smell of men's body wash hanging in the air.

I knock gently, leaning my shoulder gently against the door frame.

"Hey," My voice is softer than I expected and I clear my throat. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did last night."

Knotting my fingers into a jumbled mess, he turns to face me, making my breath hitch when his eyes meet mine. There was something so sharp about them, the crystal blue color so clear, they looked like glass.

"You're going to dinner?" He asks me, his eyes looking away from mine while he slides his white Vans onto his feet.

"Yeah, going to get ready now." His back straightens, nodding his head and moving in my direction. He stands close, his minty breath hitting my cheeks gently, my eyes move from his chin, up to meet his eyes once more.

The bedroom light is turned off and he reaches for the doorknob, breaking me away from him.

"Better hurry then." He smirks, shutting the door and moving in a swift jog down the stairs to the first floor.

*

By the time we got home, our stomachs achingly full, and bodies exhausted from the night before, we are all ready to settle in for the night. I change from my jeans and simple v-neck, into a pair of grey Adidas sweatpants, and a back tank top.