This chapter was edited 08/01/16.
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At first, a few of Parker's friends - senior boys sporting leather jackets and plaid flannel shirts - were the only guests at the house. They lingered in the living room, standing beside the high end stereo, tinkering around with CDs and whose playlist on whose phone to blast. But as soon as Richel made a couple more phone calls, a flood of people began to pull into their driveway. A majority of them crowded the hallways, or laid on the sofas with their feet propped up on the glass table. No one was using a coaster for their drinks. A Passion Pit song was blaring and a huddle of girls were singing along, their red cups lifted in the air. But what was most startling were the compliments I kept receiving from strangers walking up to me and greeting me as if we were long lost friends.
"Hey Nina!"
"Congratulations Nina!"
"Awesome party, Nina!"
I was living in a different world, one that I had never entered into before. It was a mix of MTV, cheesy reality shows and those romantic comedy movies. I leaned against the staircase, dumbfounded as to how I had gotten myself here in the first place.
After enduring about twenty minutes of Parker's reckless driving, we'd arrived to their house, which led to Richel marching me up the stairs to her bedroom. She'd returned to me my usual loose gray T-shirt, but begged me to at least wear a leather black skirt and studded biker boots with it.
"You'll look hot, trust me," she'd insisted while racking through her closet.
"I just don't get why I have to change," I'd muttered. "Or why we have to have this party..."
"Because, Nina, even though Parker and I don't get along, he's right about celebrating. This day deserves to be remembered. Imagine: by tomorrow, you're going to be a beauty pageant contestant."
"How do you know that? There were sixty seven girls that auditioned. Only twenty will be accepted. Those girls have been pretty their whole lives."
"And you haven't?" she'd shot back, placing her hands on her hips. "Believe that if you want. But if you haven't noticed, you're pretty now."
"Am I?" I'd asked, falling back onto her pillow. I'd held the black leather skirt in my hands, noting how short the length was. "Am I pretty yet?"
"I would think so since Harrison is obviously slowly becoming into you."
"He's still with Leslie, also known as your cousin, in case you've forgotten and bonked your head underneath a coconut tree."
She wrinkled her nose at me in distaste. "FYI, I haven't forgotten. And BTW, I know how a boy acts when he starts liking a girl. Hello? I live with one. Just watch." She'd shrugged her shoulders. "Sooner or later, he'll be breaking up with Leslie."
"That's horrible, don't say that," I'd snapped, irritated.
And now, in a skirt that wasn't mine wearing shoes that felt odd on my feet surrounded by this sea of people who were all looking at me and talking to me, I felt out of place. Yet strangely... I felt alive.
Parker stood by a cooler stocked with a few bottles of Corona beneath Diet Coke cans, which I assumed had just been placed there for show. Richel was nowhere to be found; last time I had seen her, she'd been talking to one of Parker's friends, batting her eyelashes. I swirled the Diet Coke around in the red cup my fingers were gripping onto, watching the bubbles fizz. A different song began blaring from the stereo in the living room, and girls were grinding on boys. The bathroom door had been locked for about an hour now, which was never a good sign. I was surprised the cops hadn't shown up yet to file a noise complaint. I wished Faith was here, but she was being force fed by her perky PTA mother at a family dinner downtown. Harrison was probably somewhere on a date with Leslie, having the time of his life. I was far from his mind; I didn't believe a word Richel said. I squeezed my eyes shut, frowning.
Someone knocked into me, spilling their drink all over my shoes. I gasped, my eyes opening quickly. In front of me stood Parker. A very drunk looking Parker. His smile seemed a bit lopsided, and his eyes were a dull green, not as bright. He swayed in his step, leaning his hand against the kitchen counter. His eyes honed in on me.
"Nina," he slurred, laughing and swinging an arm around my neck. "Nina, Nina, Nina. You're the only girl I know named Nina, Nina."
I stumbled backwards against his weight, grimacing as I attempted to stand him upright. "I believe you. I also believe that you're so drunk right now, you won't remember saying my name six times in one sitting."
"I'm not sitting. I'm standing," he corrected, moving his palm up and down to point out his stance. I smiled, shaking my head in amusement at him.
"Of course you are. I stand corrected."
"I'm sorry about your shoes," he mumbled, clicking his tongue.
"They're Richel's," I said, causing him to laugh loudly in return.
He tapped my nose with his index finger, then started giggling like a ten year old boy. A drunk Parker sure was an interesting sight.
"Let's go outside," he laughed, already leading the both of us to the back kitchen door. We entered the backyard and walked towards a rusty looking swing set. His palm felt hot against my own. The yard was practically empty, a telltale sign that they had just moved in and that Mrs. DeAngelis was not a green thumb in any shape or form. I always felt a bit hollow inside, seeing a yard without any blooming flowers rooted in the ground. I felt an itch to race back to the flower shop, grab a dozen packets of seeds, and shower them along the soil.
Parker stumbled towards the swing and plopped down onto the seat. The chains groaned against his weight, and I wondered if the family before had left it behind when they moved out.
"Push me!" he exclaimed, his grin goofy and wide, like a child walking through a Disneyland park.
"Alright, alright," I said, quickly moving behind him and hoping he would at least hold onto the steel chains to prevent himself from sailing right off the seat. I pressed my hands into his back, pushing him forward with a huff. He yelled random nonsense, kicking his feet up into the air.
"I'm flying!" he whooped, letting go of the chains and extending his arms outwards, pretending to be an airplane or perhaps a bird. "I'm Peter Pan!"
"Peter Pan, not Peter Parker?" I mused. He chuckled, looking back at me. A sliver of the moon hung right above his head as he came sailing back down to me. I pushed him again.
"Funny," he grumbled. "That should be your talent for the beauty pageant. You could tell jokes."
"Peter Pan versus Peter Parker jokes? Something tells me the audience might not catch onto it as quickly as you did. And you're drunk."
"I'm not that drunk," he argued, frowning back at me. He wagged his finger at me. "I've been drunker."
"That's not a shocker," I sighed, my arms beginning to hurt. Parker was a lot heavier than I'd imagined, but I figured it was all muscle since he didn't have an ounce of additional fat on his body. My phone suddenly vibrated in my back pocket. I scrambled to pull it out and look at the caller ID.
Mom. Shit. My thumb hovered over the Answer icon.
"I only get drunk when they argue. They're so loud when they argue, Nina."
I stopped pushing him, watching him fly upwards as he kicked his feet hard into the air. I blinked, appalled. "When who argues?"
"My parents."
The swing nearly knocked into me as he propelled backwards, his back knocking into my chest. I stumbled backwards a bit before steadying the swing, gripping onto the chains to stop him from swiveling. I stared at him. He stared back at me, his hardened green eyes against my softened brown eyes.
"They used to argue all the time back where we lived." His voice sounded low now, so low I had to lean in to catch his words. "Once, my mom even threw a knife into the table. It stuck straight into the wood, and Richel started crying. She hates it most of all when they fight. I'm just sort of numb to it."
My throat felt dry. Richel, who was constantly bossing me around and telling me what to wear and how to act, was a crier. It dawned on me that you never really knew a person, even if you spent nearly everyday with them. You didn't know their past or the obstacles they'd had to face. The first time you met a person, they were a clean slate, and you filled in the gaps using your own judgment.
"We moved here because they're getting divorced. Our dad is still back home because he said he needed space, but I think my mom knows that space means permanent separation." He leaned the side of his head against the steel chain and his knuckles, closing his eyes. "I overheard them talking on the phone a couple of months ago."
"Parker..." I said quietly, swallowing the knot that had formed in my throat. "I'm sorry."
His eyes shot open and he pressed a hand against my mouth. "Shh! Don't tell Richel! She doesn't know yet," he whispered. He removed his hand from my mouth, letting it slip to my cheek. His eyes moved down to my lips, and before I could even blink he started to lean in, tilting his chin carefully towards my mouth. I blinked, startled, and put my hands up against his chest.
"Parker, you're drunk."
A sleepy smile formed on his lips. "I'm not that drunk," he murmured, letting go of the steel chains and taking my hands into his. I could feel his heart beating, steady and unnerving. He was telling the truth.
When someone is about to kiss you, you can't not know. They're leaning towards you and you kind of feel like those girls on TV, the ones who finally snag the boy of their dreams, like the football player or the popular golden boy. Only this wasn't that moment, I wasn't that girl, and Parker wasn't that boy. Not for me.
"Nina!" a voice yelled, making my shoulders jump in surprise.
I quickly yanked my hands out of Parker's grip and squinted my eyes at the outline of the figure approaching us in the dark. A frowning Harrison was marching past the glass door into the backyard, and a few people were poking their heads out the window from inside the house, their curious eyes peering through the slits of open space in between the blinds. The first thing that registered for me was that Harrison was not in date attire, but rather in a navy blue Marvel T-shirt I had gotten him in the Eighth Grade for his birthday. His hair seemed a bit damp, and on his feet were a pair of worn out Converse. Everything about him seemed out of order and rushed.
"Your mom called me. She's been worried out of her mind about not knowing where you are! Be glad I live within walking distance from here."
"How did you even know where I was?" I asked. He stumbled to form a sentence as his eyes flickered towards Parker, who was still sitting on the swing.
"Why the hell are you here?" he snapped.
"I live here," Parker replied, smirking. "Nina and I were in the middle of something, so can you come back later?"
"Parker," I hissed in warning, glaring at him.
"No, I can't come back later," Harrison said through gritted teeth. He turned to me. "Come on, Nina, let's go home."
"Harrison..."
"What are you, her brother?" Parker snorted, standing up from the swing. He didn't sway on his feet at all, not a single bit.
"Her best friend. Just sit back down and continue playing."
Harrison grabbed my hand and I felt a spark shoot through my heart strings, like an electric current. I looked down at our hands, then back up at him with wide eyes.
"Nina, stay. We were talking, remember?" Parker pleaded, pouting. He stepped forward, taking my other hand and wrapping his fingers around it.
"Nina, I am not going to let you stay here with this dick wad-"
Parker threw the first punch, bringing his arm back and swinging it at Harrison's face. I screamed, and everyone inside the house came rushing into the backyard, holding cellphones and shining them at us. I blinked against the harsh lights, rushing over to Harrison, but he was already getting back up, swiping at his bloody lip. Before I could pull him back, he punched Parker back just as hard, and I heard a crack.
"Stop it!" I screamed, pulling Harrison back. He staggered into my chest, looking down at me. His eyes were wild and his breathing ragged. I squeezed his arm. "Stop. Let's go home."
His lip was starting to swell up, leaking more blood. Parker was on the ground, coughing and spitting. He flashed Harrison a dirty look. My face fell as I spotted Richel shoving her way past a group of people. She came running to my side, her eyes growing wider by the minute.
"What in the hell happened here?" she asked, whirling around to look at Parker sitting on the grass, head in between his knees. She took me by the arm, pulling me towards her. "What happened?"
I swallowed. "I'm sorry."
She ran her fingers through her hair, looking down and frowning before turning back to me. "I'll text you, alright?" she said, then took a look at Harrison. "Put some ice on that, stat."
I nodded, dragging Harrison past a few people who were still recording with their cellphones, and I ducked my head down. Harrison held his hand against his lip, groaning.
"I guess I should be calling you Punches now," I deadpanned, looping my arm through his as we weaved our way through a cluster of cars in the driveway. He groaned, spitting out more blood onto the pavement. Great. I was sure Richel's mother would love to see a dried up splat of blood on their driveway the following morning.
. . . .
Mr. and Mrs. Clarence jumped up from their seats on the couch as soon as Harrison and I walked through the front door. Mr. Clarence let out a whistle, and Mrs. Clarence's hands flew to her face. She started weeping, heaving hiccup sobs before running towards Harrison, wrapping him into a hug. I stepped aside, my arms hanging awkwardly by my sides.
"Harrison, my poor baby," Mrs. Clarence sniffled, pulling away to cup his face into her hands. "Who did this to you?"
"A senior," he grumbled, folding his arms.
"Did you hit him back?" Mr. Clarence asked. Mrs. Clarence shot him a murderous look. He threw his hands up innocently into the air. "What?"
I smiled, biting back a laugh.
"I did," Harrison proudly replied, then stopped smiling when his mom also shot him a death glare. She turned to me, sighing.
"Nina, get an ice pack from the kitchen, will you? I'll call your mom. Harrison, sit down at the counter. Wesley, you're grounded."
"Me?" Mr. Clarence gasped, whipping a hand to his chest. "Whatever for?"
Despite the tension in the air, Mrs. Clarence slapped his arm, shaking her head. He sent me a shoulder shrug before following her into the living room, probably to calm down my mother through the phone, who surely would need some calming down from more than just Mrs. Clarence. If anyone was grounded here, it was going to be me.
I followed Harrison to the kitchen, walking over to the refrigerator to get an ice pack. I smiled fondly at a picture inside an apple shaped magnetic frame. A grinning Harrison, with braces on his teeth, had an arm slung around my shoulder as I held a fist up to his face, growling at the camera. I had a sports cap backwards on my head. It had been his, but he'd let me borrow it for the day. It was the first time I had ever come over to this house, and Mrs. Clarence had been in her picture taking phase, insisting that every moment be captured by a click and a flash.
"I didn't know you guys still had this," I laughed, opening the freezer and digging past a pack of frozen chicken thighs until my hand settled on an ice pack. I shut the freezer door, turning back around to face him. His eyes moved past my face and settled on the picture. He smiled, then winced, and I rushed over with the ice.
"Does it hurt?"
He grimaced. "It just feels like it's throbbing."
Hesitantly, I pressed the ice pack against his lip. He sucked in a breath.
"Sorry," I rushed, pulling it away, but his fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling my hand back to his lip. I smiled.
"So, Punches..." I trailed off teasingly, and he rolled his eyes.
"Make fun all you want, but I call it self defense."
"Really? I call it letting your anger get the best of you."
"He threw the first punch!"
"So you're obligated to throw the second one?"
He blinked, his brows furrowing together. "Says the person who punched me."
I squinted my eyes at him, pressing the ice pack harder against his lip. He winced, pushing my hand away roughly.
"Are you seriously taking Parker's side?"
"I'm not on anyone's side!"
"It sure sounds like it. You almost let him kiss you, for God's sake."
I felt my face heat up. I hadn't even known he'd seen that part.
"That's not what it was. Parker was just telling me..."
I sealed my lips, knowing I couldn't go any further. If I couldn't tell Richel that her parents were getting divorced, then I obviously couldn't tell anyone else. This was the only unwritten rule I was actually good at following.
"Telling you that he likes you?" Harrison finished, his eyes narrowing.
"No."
"Then what?"
I stayed silent. The ice pack was starting to numb my palm. He got up from his seat, taking a step towards me. Despite my brain telling me otherwise, my feet stayed put.
"Now it really sounds like you're taking his side."
My face felt hot. Furious, I slammed the ice pack onto the counter.
"Ice yourself then and don't listen to a word I say."
I was halfway to the living room when his hand was on my wrist again. I yanked it out of his grip, annoyed.
"What?" I barked.
"Why are you pissed?"
"I'm not."
"Nina..."
"God, Harrison, I've always listened to you and taken your side for every situation in the past four years. Is it alright if, just for once, I take my own side? Not Parker's, and not yours, but mine."
His eyes softened, and his grip on my wrist loosened but his fingers remained where they were.
"I'm sorry." The words fell from his lips in a hurry. I folded my arms, waiting. He sighed, letting go of my hand and shoving his own into his jean pocket. "I guess I'm just adjusting."
"Adjusting to what?" I asked in disbelief, throwing my hands into the air.
"To you."
My cheeks grew warm, and my heart hummed. "To me?"
He laughed, and even with a cut up lip I still wanted to kiss him. "I can't explain it. I don't know when it happened, or how. But you're different now." He took a breath, and I felt my heart on the edge of bursting, longing to reveal all its long hidden secrets. "You're brighter."
Right then, I wanted to tell him. It would be so easy, to just open my mouth and blurt out that I was in love with him. I was in love with him because he didn't just state things in a simple manner, he used words like "brighter." As if I was flashlight and someone had finally found double A batteries, placed them inside me, and flipped the switch.
"Nina," Mr. Clarence called from the living room. "Your mom is on the phone." She rushed over to us, and in an instant the moment was gone. I ripped my gaze away from Harrison, and he did the same with me. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
Mr. Clarence handed me the phone, covering the speaker. "Be ready for an earful, kid."
"That bad?" I grimaced. He nodded. I took a deep breath, placing the speaker to my ear. "Hello?"
"Nina," she said, and she sounded out of breath. The guilt came crashing down on me. "Where have you been?"
"I-"
"Is your phone on you?"
"Yes."
"Then why did you not answer it when I called you? I thought you said you only had your school activity until three o'clock today. You've been gone for much longer than three o'clock!" she exclaimed, sounding lost and forlorn. I felt tears pricking at the corner of my eyes and swiped away at them with the back of my hand.
"I know, Mom, I'm sorry. I just..." I just got caught up in a celebration party at my friend's house for completing my interview for the Melway Beauty Pageant. Oh, by the way, I'm joining the Melway Beauty Pageant. "...was helping a friend."
"Honey, I know Harrison got punched in the face at a party," she said. "But that doesn't mean you always have to be rescuing him."
"He was rescuing me."
A silence followed, and I squeezed my eyes shut, biting my thumb nail.
"So you were at the party, too?" she slowly said, her voice growing stronger and angrier. "Nina, you told me you were attending a school activity."
"The party was part of the school activity," I insisted, but the tremors in my voice betrayed me. I could hear her sighing and drumming her fingernails against her desk table. She was debating whether or not she should trust me or ground me. "Mom."
"Come home and we'll discuss your punishment then. Tell Harrison's mom I say thank you for letting me know the whereabouts of my daughter."
Then she hung up. I groaned in misery, looking down at the phone and the resonating dial tone. I walked into the living room, flopping down on a couch cushion beside Harrison. His lip didn't seem as swollen anymore, but the cut was definitely still just as prominent and visible, and very, very red.
"You're dead?" he asked.
"Not dead, just on probation," I replied, setting the phone back in its holder on the small coffee table with a satisfying click. "I still don't know my release date."
"Remember me when you get out of your cell."
He patted my knee. When he pulled his palm away, it felt like my knee was on fire.
"I have to get going," I said. "Where did your parents go?"
"Probably to their room to make out," he answered honestly, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust, then laughed.
"Well, when they're done making out, let them know that I left and said goodbye so that they don't think I'm rude."
"You, rude? Never."
I stuck a tongue out at him and crossed my eyes. "Also, tell your mom my mom says thank you. She'll know for what."
"You just don't want to say the reason out loud, do you?"
"Good night, Punches," I called out from their entryway, and I could hear him snort in reply. I was tying my shoelaces nearby the foyer when he called out my name. I craned my neck so that my head was sticking out from behind the wall. I could see him sitting there on the couch, the ice pack in his hand. He was hunched forward.
"You should listen to your mom about not saving me so much. Let me save you more often from now on."
I opened my mouth, then closed it, realizing a simple smile would suffice. Speechless, I rushed out the door, letting it shut behind me before leaning against it and falling to my knees in a crouch, burying my face into my hands. He really needed to stop saying stuff like that. I didn't want to start breaking out into maniacal grins in front of him every time he said something like that to me. It made me want more. It made me want him.
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a/n: Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello! (Because I totally am rubbing off on Parker and like to say things six times... even though I'm not drunk right now.) So this chapter was rather long but I did enjoy writing it and I did spend a lot of time editing it to make sure it turned out the way I imagined it would in my head. Thank you so much for reading all of it and taking time out of your day to do that, I greatly appreciate it. Feel free to leave a COMMENT on who you think technically "won" the fight, despite Parker and Harrison both getting banged up; how you felt about Parker's dirty little family secret; and about Harrison and Nina's seemingly growing chemistry. Love you guys just as much as In-n-Out (which is saying something because I am an In-n-Out fanatic. COMMENT or VOTE if you're one too.)!
Love always.
P.S. How did Harrison know where Nina was? We'll find that out later ;)