Chapter Eleven
Some people have a curious nature. Up until a few days ago I would have said that I fell under that description. Now I wasn't so sure. There was a line between having an inquisitive mind and becoming borderline stalker in order to retrieve the information you sought.
Prying into other people's social affairs had never been something that interested me, that had always been Skylar's expertise. Who would have thought that it would only take the hushed whispered words of "party" and "Parker" to change my mind.
Though Parker had driven me home on the night of the catastrophic date failure where we'd left things on a relatively upbeat note, something had changed between us. It had first started after the forced kiss in his car; a lingering sort of awkward tension. It seemed to have worsened considerably since then.
Every time I looked at him the scenario would play on repeat inside my head. His hand bunching up my blouse, the other grasping the back of my neck whilst his lips crashed against my own. Either that or how jealous he had looked when dragging me away from Beckett.
I hated it.
Whether this was happening to him as well, I couldn't tell. I presumed that it was only me seeing as I was the one acting odd around him. Parker was just acting like his usual self.
Or so I had thought.
The first mention of a party had been two days ago during my math class. Seeing as I never understood what was happening with that subject, getting distracted with other things was easy. Especially other classmates' conversations. I guess that's why twenty minutes into the lesson I had accidentally tuned into the excited babbling from the girls in front of me.
"He's never hosted a party before. I wonder what his house looks like?" Victoria Saunders gushed.
The first seed of interest had been successfully planted into the soil that was my brain. Those that were likely to host a party already had. Who could it have been?
"Well I know what it looks like already. I've slept with him." The girl next to Victoria replied smugly.
She was fairly new to town, if I recalled correctly her name was Quinn. Lots of boys were fawning over her as if she was a shiny new toy to play with - there were never many new people that moved to Oakton, there was wasn't much to see in our relatively small town so many people became obsessed with newcomers. Quinn was well aware of the attention she got and each day her skirt moved up a few inches. Soon she'd be strutting about in her underwear.
Victoria let out a dreamy sigh. "I still can't believe you slept with Parker Heywood last week."
It was two days later and I still couldn't fully believe it. Firstly, Parker hadn't hosted a party before. For someone who was known to enjoy a party or two (that was until he seemed to make a full time occupation staying by my side and irritating me of course) I found it hard to believe he'd never held one in his own house.
Secondly, Parker had slept with Quinn. I didn't know why I was so surprised. Parker liked girls and he was notorious for fooling around with them. I'd always known that he stripped them of their clothes, dignity and self esteem (I'd even told him so) yet somewhere during the few months I'd spent with him it seemed to have slipped my mind.
Quinn turned around after a few moments as if she had sensed my lingering stare. She smirked at me, a rather prominent look of self-satisfaction glistening in her eyes, before turning back around whilst chuckling under her breath. She wanted me to be annoyed and annoyed I was. The rest of math class my brain was preoccupied with thinking of ways to discreetly impale the back of her fiery red head with my pencil.
Dare I say it, I was feeling betrayed. Betrayed and irritated. There I was, letting Parker know things about me that I didn't even tell Skylar and afterwards he was going back home to spend nights with girls he didn't even talk to. I hadn't seen Parker and Quinn together once. Not before they apparently slept together, nor after. Was this just a late hour meet up kind of thing?
I wasn't sure what aggravated me more. The fact that I'd accidentally let myself open up to him more than I had anyone else or that I'd actually let myself believe he was a better person than I'd first assumed, that he'd finally put an end to his messing around after becoming so... interested in me. Entertained was probably the better word.
The shrill sound of my phone broke me from my reverie.
"I'm parked outside. You better be wearing something house party acceptable."
I paused, looking down at my jeans that had my knobbly knees poking out of the torn black fabric. "Just what exactly is the definition of that?"
"Well what are you wearing?"
I hesitated. "Clothes?"
Skylar hung up on me and a few minutes later she was barging through the door of my room and rifling through my wardrobe. She tossed things behind her until a small mountain of crumpled clothes lay in a heap by my feet.
"You're hanging and folding all of that later." I stated, annoyed.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She'd never do it. "Does everything you own have a hole in it?"
"I like holes." I huffed before I let out a reluctant snort of amusement, mumbling, "That's what he said."
"You've been hanging out with Parker far too much," She groaned, throwing the tights that had the ladder running down the leg at me along with a black skater skirt and white crop tank top. The back of it was covered with cute white lace. The outfit itself would look nice but it wasn't something I wore at all. Call me old fashioned, but exposing my pale abdomen didn't bring me any joy. "Speaking of him, tell me again why we're going to his party?"
"You were invited by Joe," I shrugged, mentioning her latest admirer and sliding by the fact that I was going in order to see just what Parker was like when he wasn't constantly by my side. Was he was back to (or rather, continuing) his old, jerk ways? "I'm accompanying you."
"Please," She snorted, ushering me into the bathroom with wild hand gestures. "I've been trying to corrupt you for years. You're telling me that there's no reason for your sudden change of heart? That you're willing to wriggle out of your jeans and venture into a claustrophobic area filled with drunken teenagers just for the hell of it?"
"What's wrong with that?" I shouted from behind the bathroom door as she lingered outside it for me to get changed. I glanced in the mirror and grimaced at the skirt. I opened the door slightly to throw it back at Skylar. I didn't wear skirts or dresses, I always felt too... exposed. The only reason I still owned any was due to the insistent girl waiting on me. "Give me my shorts."
"Look, I know you don't like very girly things but-"
"I'm wearing the horrendously cute cropped tank you got me for my birthday am I not? And you know I had no intention of ever wearing that. Now give me my shorts."
She grumbled something but a few moments later a bundle of denim was thrown into the bathroom. I immediately felt more comfortable with the outfit but I still didn't particularly approve of the tank. However, if I crashed Parker's party with virtually every inch of my skin concealed (which was how I liked it) I'd probably stick out like a sore thumb. I needed to blend in if I was going to channel my inner detective.
We practically ran to Skylar's car which was stalling outside. She claimed that we'd sailed past the point of being fashionably late, we had simply missed the first half of the party.
I sent my mum a quick text (she was working late tonight) to tell her I was staying at Skylar's. She'd have a meltdown if I told her I was going to a party, never mind it being Parker Heywood's. A pang of guilt coursed through me as I hit the send button. I wasn't fond of lying to my mother though it seemed be a common occurrence these days.
By the time we arrived, the party was well underway with many people already drunk; those who weren't in a heavy make-out session pressed against trees and the wall of the house were huddled in circles sharing cigarettes or vomiting in the beautifully trimmed rose bush. We could hear the thumping bass line of the music coming from within the house before we'd even stepped foot over the threshold.
"Ready for your first party then, newbie?" Skylar asked as we reached Parker's door. It was kept ajar by a human doorstop who appeared to be overly intoxicated.
"No," I stated truthfully, already regretting my oh-so-fabulous sleuthing plan. "Look, I've got a confession to make. I'm not here to party, I'm here to find ou-"
A smash came from within the house and a shirtless guy ran out, blood dripping from his lip and a scowl causing his eyebrows to crash into one another.
"What were you saying?" Skylar asked though I could see she was only half paying attention, eyes focused on the now visible interior of the house which was bustling with people.
I was going to have to solo this mission just as I had originally planned.
"Nothing, never mind." I glanced at the human doorstep and I couldn't help but laugh a little as I put the face to a name. "You just go on in, I'll catch up with you."
"You sure?" She frowned.
After much persuasion, she sauntered off inside as I crouched down next to a very drunk Matthew. His blond hair was even messier than usual and his bloodshot eyes were having trouble focusing on anything. He rolled onto his back and sent me a lazy smile.
"Are you on drugs?"
"The only drug I'm on is love." He sang as he tried to stand up. After a few minutes of clawing up the wall, he was upright and leaning heavily against the doorframe to support him. "What about you touchy touchy girl?"
"I'll take that as a yes," I couldn't be sure if he was just drunk or not. Matthew seemed to be rather quirky and childish at the best of times so I had no idea what he was on right now. I decided to cut to the chase and ignore his question, knowing that the chance of Matthew remembering this conversation was slim to none. "Have you seen Parker?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Here!" He clutched his heart dramatically, choking on giggles.
"What about with your eyes? Have your eyes saw him tonight?"
He looked puzzled. "Why would I look for someone with my eyes?"
I simply stared at him before deciding to venture into the party without further conversation.
I immediately wished I hadn't forced Skylar to leave me. One, I could have used her as a human body shield in order to push past the mass of sweaty bodies that blocked the hallway; two, I was completely out of my depth and had no idea where I should situate myself; and three, I wasn't actually invited. It was fine crashing the party with Skylar by my side, she was expected to come here and I could have said I was her wingwoman and whatnot. Now I was standing like an idiot at the doorway having absolutely no idea what the social norm was.
The heat was already getting to me so I decided that the best thing to do was search for the kitchen to get some water before I began my mission.
Hydration is important for a clear and focused mind, I told myself in order to justify my stalling.
With my back pressed against the wall, I managed to manoeuvre my way through the crowd and find the kitchen with minimal touching involved. To say I was proud would be an understatement.
It was when I was searching the cupboards for a mug that a voice from very close behind me whispered in my ear, "Can I pinch your bum?"
Creep alert.
"Can I pinch your wallet?" I deadpanned as I whirled around, hands already tightening in case I had to throw a punch to escape. I made sure to keep my thumb on the outside of my fist just as Parker had once advised me. Since when had I become so violent?
"Holy shit, man!" Axel exclaimed, leaping about a metre away from me as if I had suddenly contracted leprosy. I hadn't expected the odd provocative question to come from him but then again, he was most probably at least a little tipsy by now. "I swear I didn't know it was you- I- you had a nice ass and- you can't tell Parker. He'd de-ball me."
I snorted. "I honestly hope that isn't the kind of pick up lines you dish out to girls."
"I dish out a shit load more than pick up lines." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. He was back to acting how he was in the car when I'd first properly talked to him - playful and without boundaries. I had to admit that I preferred it when he channeled his parental figure when his other friends were about.
"What happened to papa Cambridge?" I replied, addressing him by his last name.
"I don't understand," He frowned. "Are you trying to initiate kinky talk? I mean, I'm all for it but we'll need to keep this away from Parker's ears bec-"
"My god, no." I huffed. I could feel my face turning pink both from the intense heat in the house and from the awkward misunderstanding. "I meant it as in, why aren't you being the dad of your group? Why aren't you supervising your children? Matthew is basically dead on the floor."
"Papa Cambridge is taking time off to have fun just now." He shrugged, his pale pianist fingers wrapped around the thin neck of a brown bottle. "I didn't think Parker wanted you here..." Ouch. "Did he invite you?"
"Nope," I tried to keep my voice devoid of emotion but even I could detect the frosty edge it had developed. "Didn't even mention it to me. I'm here with my friend Skylar as her wingwoman."
"Are you now? You're doing a great job so far. Where is she?" He asked with a laugh.
"She didn't need my- my assistance. She's in the other room doing whatever is... happening in the other room."
"Right," He chuckled, his bright blue eyes scrutinising my face. "You know, for someone who's completely uninterested in Parker, you're doing a convincing job of proving otherwise. You're here to spy on him, right?"
I felt my cheeks flame. I was spying. I was totally spying. "I am not spying-"
"He didn't want you here for a reason." He tipped his head back, the mouth of the bottle pressed to his lips as he let the last of his alcoholic beverage slide down his throat.
"What, because he's messing about with Quinn again?"
He put his empty beer bottle down and his face contorted into a grimace. "How did you know about that?"
I decided to fixate my gaze on the bottle, feeling uncomfortable talking about such a subject with Parker's virtually sober friend. I couldn't let him know that this was actually bothering me seeing as the chances of him reporting my answer back to Parker were high.
Following my line of sight, he apologised. "Sorry, did you want me to get you something to drink?"
"When you drink, the alcohol in your body is converted into a toxic chemical called acetaldehyde. This can damage your DNA and stop your cells from repairing that damage, which can lead to cancer. Liver cancer, breast cancer, mouth can-"
"Would you like something or not?"
"I don't drink." I replied, putting the mug I'd taken from the cupboard under the faucet. I turned back around with a mug full of water to see that more people were beginning to stumble into the kitchen for refills from the beer keg situated next to me. Clouds of grey smoke hovered around their heads, pluming from the cigarettes held within their grasps.
My aim for the night was to catch Parker doing something terrible without him knowing of my presence. It would give me the shove I needed to cut him out of my life for good, no matter how much it might sting now that I'd become accustomed to his company. That was my goal and I wasn't leaving this house without having at least tried.
With that thought in mind, I left the kitchen and ignored Axel's calls behind me, steering clear of as much touching as possible in the busy house.
Parker's home was roughly as I had imagined. An average size, nothing too excessive with basic furnishings and plain walls. Whether that was because he was hosting a party and he didn't want things to get damaged, I didn't know, though I reckoned it was normally just as simple. He didn't seem like someone who was overly fond of the unnecessary (like a strategically placed painting or vase of flowers), more so practicality.
The memory of Parker throwing all of the cushions from my upholstered sofa to the floor sprang to mind. Five cushions were a bit much for a sofa that held two people but they were more for decorative purposes. Parker called it useless.
No sooner had the memory finished did I feel a cold liquid dribble down the back of neck and soak through my tank. It was slow, purposeful. I didn't need to turn around to know it hadn't been a drink spillage, that someone was deliberately pouring their stinking alcoholic beverage down my back.
"Flora!" Quinn squealed. Her pitch made me wince and I swivelled around to face her with the most pissed off look I could muster whilst sticky alcohol coated the entirety of my back. "I am so sorry."
"Don't worry about it," I said through gritted teeth. "Not like it was on purpose or anything, am I right?"
"Flora?" A voice called from behind and I froze.
And the grand title of World's Worst Spy was officially awarded to Flora Montgomery.
Quinn's eyes widened as she stared between myself and the small empty bottle of vodka she held in her slender fingers. Her arms flailed about without purpose by her sides like a baby bird that didn't know quite how to fly before she settled on hiding the bottle behind her back. The only positive thing about the situation was watching the smug smirk get wiped from her face.
"Flora?" He repeated as he came into my view, standing next to Quinn opposite me. I didn't miss how she moved closer to him, sides-pressed-against-one-another kind of close. Parker stayed stationary, unfazed by her overly friendly actions. "What are you doing here? And what's on your back?"
"I'm here with Skylar as a wingwoman. As for my back," I paused, deciding that I wouldn't sink to Quinn's level. I had no idea why she didn't like me. If she thought I was in some immature rivalry with her, competing for Parker's affections, then the girl needed a wake up call. I didn't like him like that. In fact, I shouldn't like him at all. The fact that this was upsetting me was ridiculous and confusing. "That was your girlfriend's fault but it was an accident."
"Girlfriend? I don't-" His eyes widened in realisation before he shoved Quinn away from him. "We're not- this isn't-"
"I don't see the big deal here," I said evenly as I ignored the odd spasms my stomach was doing with each word that escaped my lips. My voice had come out surprisingly confident for someone who couldn't lie to save their life. "There's no need to deny it. Somebody literally just confirmed that you'd slept together and-"
"Who confirmed that?" He spat as he stepped forward. A pang of sympathy shot through me for Quinn whom had been so blatantly rejected but it was short lived when I found her shooting me vicious daggers.
I was shocked to find that Parker's breath smelled strongly of pineapple juice, not alcohol. I momentarily thought of distracting him from the topic at hand ("I drink pineapple juice. You- also drink pineapple juice.") but I thought better of it.
I brought my mug of water up to my lips. "Axel." I mumbled quietly.
"Who?" He frowned, clearly not hearing my muffled voice from the mug. "Wait- are you drinking?" His face turned thunderous as he snatched my drink from my grasp and inspected its contents.
"Excuse me, I'm having tap water. Hence why it's in a mug, not a can, bottle or silly red cup. Calm yourself down!" I snatched it back and half of the water sloshed over the rim, drenching my tank even more than it already was. "If you'd move out of my way, I need to find Skylar."
"Oh no you don't." He said quickly, snagging the sleeve of my tank and dragging me to the bottom of the stairs. He tried to take the first step but I put my foot down, yanking my sleeve back.
"What do you want?" I snapped.
"Answers." He tugged at the roots of his hair like he always did when he got agitated or frustrated. His eyes surveyed the area around us as if he were looking for someone. Maybe even hiding from them. For some reason I didn't think it was Quinn.
"Would you mind elaborating? Answers to what? Personally I'd like you to answer my question. Why the heck are you dragging me upstairs? Even people that live their life under a rock know that dragging a girl upstairs means that the guy wants to eat her tongue meat."
"That was extremely vivid. Thank you," There was the ghost of a smile on his face but his eyes were still darting about nervously. "But can you please just trust me for once and come upstairs?"
I sighed but agreed, mounting the stairs and awkwardly dodging the couples that were mauling one another's face's off. I was surprised when Parker shouted at them all to "Get the fuck down the stairs!" and yell,"This area is off limits!". If he was just trying to get them out of our way quicker then I had to hand it to him, it worked well.
Parker ushered me into a room and hurriedly locked the door behind us. He leant his back against it afterward with a sigh. I let him collect his thoughts and calm down from whatever little episode he was having as I looked around the room we were in.
It was much like the rest of the house, white walls, laminate flooring, though this had been personalised a little more with a few posters tacked to the walls. A single bed was flush against the wall to the right with a few articles of clothing strewn over it (dirty washing I presumed) and a small bedside table sat next to it. On the other side of the room was a closet with sliding doors and a large chest of drawers.
I walked up to the Nirvana poster on the far wall, noticing how unlike the other two, this was framed. At first I might have thought it because whoever owned this room had a big thing for Nirvana, but upon closer inspection I felt my mouth drop open. It felt as thought I'd turned into a cartoon, eyes bulging from their sockets and jaw hitting the floor.
My fingers ran over the golden frame in disbelief. "Is this a print out or is this-" I swallowed, unable to finish my sentence.
"Signed by Kurt Cobain?" Parker had walked up behind me without me having realised. If I didn't have an intense hatred of touching then this would have been the point where I grabbed his hand to steady myself from collapsing to the ground. Luckily my knees hadn't buckled just yet. "Yeah."
I let out a noise that sounded like it was somewhere between a gurgle and a strangled moan.
Parker laughed as I backed up, sitting down on the bed. It dipped down next to me when he sat by my side. "So I've finally impressed you, have I?"
"Wait-" My mind was still reeling. "This is your room? That sacred gem is your poster?"
"Sure is," He grinned proudly. It was one of his genuine smiles, not forced or teasing. "It was my dad's. He worked in a music store and found this covered in dust under some boxes in the stockroom. He'd been best friends with the manager. Guess he let him keep it." He shrugged.
It was rare for Parker to shed light on anything from his past, anything personal. I wondered if he'd ever told anybody else this, if he'd told Quinn when he had taken her up here to sleep with him last week. "And your dad gave it to you?"
Parker paused, his eyes shifting to his hands. "Something like that."
We sat for a few moments in silence. I didn't know what I had said to trigger his sudden mood change but I had a strong feeling it had something to do with his father. Part of me wanted to push him for more answers but I knew it would have been wrong. For once, the more logical side of my brain won the internal argument with myself. I kept my mouth shut.
"So why are you here? Who told you I was having a party?" Parker eventually asked.
"I told you, I'm here as Skylar's wingwoman. She asked me to come and I-"
"You always complain about Skylar trying to take you places and you've never once relented. You're one of the most annoyingly stubborn people I know. You can't honestly be trying to say-"
"When a friend is in need of a wingwoman, the responsibility lies with the friend to carry out that duty or else they aren't worthy of the title. Therefore, as the good and loyal friend I am, I had to put her wishes before my own in order to-"
"This the biggest slice of bullshit I've ever heard."
"Well we aren't going to get anywhere if we keep interrupting each other." I grimaced when my arm brushed against my soaked tank. Not only was it uncomfortable, but I was stinking of alcohol.
Parker noticed and walked to his chest of drawers, pulling out an article of clothing before wordlessly throwing it at me. It landed on my lap and I frowned at it.
"You can't keep that tank on. You'll catch a cold." He explained, gesturing to his shirt in my lap that looked big enough to drown me.
I was about to decline but thought better of it. He was right and spending anymore time in my damp, chilly tank didn't particularly fill my heart with joy. "Well can you at least turn around?" I asked reluctantly.
He rolled his eyes but complied, turning his back to me and leaning onto his chest of drawers with his elbows. "I would have invited you."
"What?" I hurriedly peeled off my tank before throwing on his large shirt. It immediately enveloped me into warmth, dryness and the smell of spearmint. There was another scent with it, one that was undeniably Parker yet undescribable. It was just very him. The shirt was navy with some vague sport logo on it. It seemed to have something to do with lacrosse. I wasn't interested in the print, more so the fact that it virtually touched my knees. My shorts were concealed and it looked like I was trying to be ahead of some odd fashion curve, an over sized sports shirt (that in no way flattered my figure seeing as it hung from my body as if it were a potato sack) with sheer tights. I felt tiny and it was mortifying.
"To the party. I would have invited you to it but things are... complicated. I don't really want it anyway. I don't like people being in my house which is why I've never had one before, I just like going to other people's. This was..." He paused, searching for a word. "This was necessary."
"Necessary? Just seems like a bit of a dumb idea to invite half of the school into your front lawn and living room to me."
"Can I turn around now? It doesn't take this long for girls to switch shirts, does it?" He not so discreetly changed the topic of conversation.
"Yeah turn around but don't laugh."
To my surprise he didn't. A faint smile lingered on his lips and he nodded to himself.
"What?" I frowned, feeling self-conscious.
He walked over to me and absently picked up a lock of my hair, twirling it around his fingers with a slight shrug. "Nothing. I just like you in my shirt."
It was a small gesture, but one that didn't go unmissed. He knew I didn't like touching though I didn't particularly mind him playing with my hair. He'd remembered and hadn't bothered to force me into something that might cause me discomfort like he so often liked to do. There was something that I found oddly touching about the gesture and it was that something that acted as my wake up call, bringing me back to the present and breaking our moment.
"Why are we up here? What answers were you talking about?"
He heaved a sigh, letting my hair fall back to my shoulder as he loosely clasped his hands around the back of his neck and began pacing the room. His strides were quick and long; he'd reach the wall within less than two seconds before abruptly turning around and pacing back again.
"Well," I said after a few minutes of watching him. "This conversation has been truly riveting."
He scowled. "I'm not in the mood for your cute sarcasm right now. You aren't supposed to be here. You weren't meant to find out."
"It's not my fault Quinn talks so loudly in math." I matched his irritated tone. Arguments could escalate so quickly with him and I could already sense one approaching.
"I take it that's where you heard about Quinn and I? Don't listen to her. She talks shit. She probably just wants attention-"
"Are you honestly trying to deny this?" I gripped the edges of his bed, trying to keep myself composed. "She was all up in your grill downstairs and you didn't even blink an eye. Anyway, Axel didn't exactly deny it either."
"It was one time, alright? And we- I- oh for fuck sake why am I even trying to explain myself! Why are you interrogating me? This is supposed to be the other way around! Why are you here? We both know you don't want to be. Someone who has a fear of touching doesn't exactly call a party like this fun-"
"Someone who spends so much time with one girl and follows her everywhere, forcefully kissing her in his car and giving her the wrong impression of what he thinks about her doesn't usually sleep with girls called Quinn at the same time!" I retaliated, immediately regretting the words as they finished tumbling from my lips.
His frantic pacing came to a halt and his jaw tensed. "Well someone who gets rejected after kissing the girl they're chasing after needs to have some sort of stress release!"
"You slept with her the same night you kissed me?" I was standing too now. My heart was hammering about violently from within my ribcage. I felt as though I'd been cheated on which was absolutely absurd. Nevertheless, it was how I felt.
"You rejected me!" He fired back as though it justified his point.
"If this has been bothering you so much then why haven't you told me? I didn't even say anything after you kissed me! Do share with me what your definition of rejection is because I believe you were the one that opened the door of your car, basically telling me to get the hell out before I'd even had time to respond. If anybody has been rejected here, it's me. I was the one left alone, crying in my house because of how confused I was when you were off frickle frackling with our year's new slut."
He opened his mouth before snapping it shut again. I'd clearly thrown him off. He waited a moment, his voice quieter as he asked, "You cried?"
"Like you care," I hissed. "Thank Quinn for purposefully spilling her drink down my back the next time you see her. I'm sure it'll be pretty soon. Maybe tonight if you're lucky."
My breathing was erratic and my fists were clenched tightly as I stalked out of the room and down the stairs. I wasn't sure whether I was relieved or upset that I didn't hear his footsteps padding behind me with some fabricated reason to explain his actions.
If Parker had indeed let me respond to his kiss, I probably would have rejected him. In fact, I was sure of it. Even if I'd had time to think it over, nothing could ever happen between us so the only path to go down would be rejection. I was Frigid Flora after all. Yet the point still stood that I hadn't been given any time to voice my thoughts and tell him this. For Parker to get so mad over something that hadn't even happened was ridiculous.
My vision was blurring and I was just glad that Parker had previously shouted at people on the top floor. It meant that the staircase was virtually empty and there was a clear path to the front door which was just beyond the bottom step.
I got weird looks as I ran through the front lawn. Probably not so much to do with my running, more so my attire.
This was the very reason why I never involved myself in such social activities or paid attention to gossip. Everything always ended up badly for people like me, for people who were different.
Maybe I was too absorbed in my thoughts of trying to work out why Parker, out of all of the people there could have been, was having this effect on me, or perhaps I was just too caught up in trying to contain my tears. Whatever the reason, I certainly didn't notice the shadowed figure following me on my brisk walk home.
// Sorry for the late (and massive) update but hopefully you guys enjoyed this. If you did, I'd love it if you voted/commented. It means a lot! Thanks for reading! Picture of Skylar above (AKA Katherine McNamara). Are any of you interested in TMI? What do you think about her being cast for Clary in the TV show? I'm interested to see just how much the storyline is going to be changed from the books. I'm all for adaption but I'm worried it'll be too much. Anyway, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to gemthegemini bc not only is her story amazing, but she's started to read mine. You should definitely check out her story 'I Won't Say I'm In Love'.//