THE HOUSE FEELS emptier.
Even though on most days, I actively avoided him, Parker's absence is loud in the hallways. Audrey hasn't been coping well. She told me he didn't give her much of a reason for the breakup, but that he insisted she could find someone far better than him, before gathering up his things and moving out. She's been a wreck ever since.
I can't ignore the fact that this is my fault. That she's suffering because of me. Even if it's for the best. Parker doesn't love her, and she deserves someone who does. But that doesn't keep me from feeling the urge to vomit every time I pass by her bedroom, and hear the muted sounds of her sadness.
Parker did the right thing. But there's a part of me that feels hurt because he didn't tell me he was leaving. He told me he was here for me, then left without a word.
Between his departure, Audrey's nearly catatonic state, and my own breakup with Dylan, I feel as though I've effectively been cut off from everyone I know.
The tension at school has gotten even worse. Dylan is playing the part of the pitiful ex-boyfriend, sending me forlorn gazes as he limps through the halls on his crutches, turning himself into a brooding mess. I've taken to avoiding all three of them, arriving late to school so I won't have to walk with Zoe to English, and eating lunch outside by myself instead of sitting with them in the cafeteria. I figure space is the best thing for Dylan right now, and he can't have that if I'm spending time with his friends.
But the isolation is lonely. The sleepless nights and haunting nightmares weigh heavily on my brain, and I don't know how much longer I can keep it up.
So, going against my better judgement and giving in to my selfish desires, I go to see the one person I've felt even remotely comfortable around during all of this.
Sticking my hands into the pockets of my raincoat, I take in a shaky breath between my parted lips, feeling nervous as my feet pad along the damp pavement. The rain has finally let up after falling for the majority of the day, and Antonio's is a beacon against the grey sky, calling me to it, but also making me want to turn around and run in the other direction. I pause across the street from the building, chewing the inside of my lip and feeling a wave of guilt.
Maybe he's not even here. It would be better if he isn't. I'll take it as a sign from God that I'm supposed to have zero contact with Parker White, no matter how platonic my intentions are. With this thought, I cross the street, arriving at the front door, and pulling it open.
It's warm inside, a stark contrast to the chilling air I just escaped, and there's a low murmur of chatter mingling with the tinkling of silverware and wine glasses. A man croons a love ballad in Italian, and a cozy feeling seeps into my chest, my shoulders relaxing in comfort.
Stepping out of the way of a couple that has just entered, I take a moment to close my eyes and collect my thoughts. After a hostess whisks the two away, I head to the desk, plastering a tentative smile on my face.
"Hi," I greet the young blonde woman in front of me, and she looks up from her computer screen in surprise.
"Good evening," she says pleasantly, before her eyes narrow in recognition. "Wait a second..." she trails off, and I feel my stomach clench. "You're Audrey's little sister, aren't you?"
My smile falters slightly, but I do my best to keep it in place. "That's me."
"She hasn't come in to work all week," she murmurs, eyebrows furrowing. "Is everything okay?"
Swallowing, I nod again, pressing my lips together. "Yeah, she's just come down with a bad cold," I lie. "She hasn't left her bed the past few days."
"That's terrible," she laments, looking as though she genuinely means it. "I hope she feels better soon."
"Me too," I agree, before clearing my throat and shifting my weight between my feet.
It takes her a moment, before she blinks, snapping back to attention, and looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she says, her hand fluttering up to her forehead. "You're waiting for me to seat you. Table for one?"
"Actually, no," I reply, sticking my hands into my pockets once more. "I'm looking for Parker. Is he here?"
"Oh, yeah. I'll go get him," she says, before giving me another small smile. "But don't steal him for too long, he's kind of important."
"I won't," I promise, returning her smile weakly, and she leaves her post to head back into the kitchen. I've already stolen him long enough.
Biting my lip, I do a scan of the room, tapping my foot anxiously. It hits me out of the blue how fucked up this truly is. My sister is at home, drowning in her heartbreak, and I'm about to speak with her boyfriend. The pressing feeling of guilt creeps into my chest, into my lungs, threatening to suffocate me.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath.
What am I doing?
The question hits me with the force of a freight train as I open my eyes again, feeling a rush of impending tears. How much more selfish could I possibly be? I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea to speak to him at all, no matter how alone I may feel right now. Parker is the last person I should be trying to contact.
Shaking my head as if to chastise myself, I turn on my heel, preparing to leave. But I only make it a few steps before a hand encircles around my arm, and I freeze.
"Allie, wait," I hear behind me, and I swallow, instantly recognizing the voice.
Turning around, I find Parker in his white uniform, brown eyes wide as he stares down at me, his expression desperate. I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry, and he releases me. We're silent for a few moments before I look down, my eyebrows furrowing.
"I shouldn't have come," I murmur, my voice low. "I'm sorry."
I make to walk away, but his voice comes in again, his footsteps following suit. "Just wait," he begs, the hopeless tone of his timbre causing me to halt again. He simply gazes at me for a few moments, as if he can't believe I'm standing before him. "Stay. Please."
Remaining rooted in place, I shake my head. "I can't," I say firmly.
His eyes are far away, as if he didn't hear me. "It's good to see you," he says, the words nearly getting lost in the surrounding bustle of the restaurant. His statement reinforces that being here is a bad idea, and my legs twitch, urging me to flee.
"Parker," a new voice sounds, the same girl from before emerging from the kitchen, giving him a meaningful look, "we need you back here!"
He reluctantly tears his gaze away from mine, and I use the opportunity to take an inconspicuous step back. "I'll be right there."
She nods, pressing her lips together, giving me a look before leaving us alone again. Parker faces me again, taking note of the way I'm subtly retreating toward the door. He frowns, checking the watch on his wrist, and glancing in the direction of the kitchen.
"My shift ends soon," he explains. "Can you wait? And then we can talk."
Shifting my weight between my feet, I chew on the inside of my lip. "That sounds like a bad idea."
"Allie," he says, giving me a flat look. "You're the one who showed up here."
I look out of the window stubbornly.
"I'll even make something for you," he bribes, and my stare flickers back to him, not missing the triumphant twitch of his lips. "Only if you stay."
I regard him warily for a few moments, before sighing and reaching up to run a hand through my hair. "Fine," I relent, narrowing my eyes. "That was a dirty move."
He grins, looking relieved. "I'll make your favourite. Erin will seat you." He looks around for the girl in question, waving her over, before looking back at me, serious once more. "I'll see you soon, okay?" he presses, making sure I won't leave in the meantime.
I nod, pressing my lips together. "Yeah."
Fidgeting with my fingers, I wait for Erin to direct me to a table. Taking a seat uncomfortably, I gaze up at the painting of the vineyard, trying to distract myself, but my knee still bounces, and my breathing is a bit shaky. Sighing, I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table and sliding my fingers into my hair as I squeeze my eyes shut.
I don't know how long I remain this way, but it must be a while because I hear footsteps come to halt at the side of the table, knowing my meal has arrived. I look up quickly, meeting the waiter's concerned eyes. He carries a plate of steaming risotto in his hands, and the smell is tantalizing to my senses.
"Is everything alright, ma'am?" he asks, voice low and inconspicuous, not wanting to be heard by the other customers.
I nod quickly, giving him a smile. "I'm fine." He seems to doubt my answer, but he doesn't press the issue, knowing the boundaries between server and customer, thankfully.
He places the dish in front of me, returning my smile. "I'm told this is on the house tonight," he explains, a knowing look in his eyes. He winks. "Enjoy your meal."
Heat rushes to my face, but before I can say anything more, he moves on to a different table.
Parker returns a while after I've finished my meal, his uniform traded for his regular clothes, and I feel the need to stand as I see him approach my table, my palms beginning to sweat. The look of relief on his face at the sight of me is clear. He most likely still thought I would bolt. I probably should have.
"You're here," he says when he reaches me, his voice soft, standing a bit closer than usual.
"I am," I remark, and his lips curve upward slightly. "Thanks for the meal."
"Anytime," he replies, before his gaze jumps to the door. "Can we go for a walk? I want to get out of here."
"Sure." I nod, following him out of the building, keeping my eyes down, feeling as though I'm doing something dirty.
The evening has darkened considerably since I was last outside, the air even cooler than before. I shiver, noticing the way Parker inches closer on the sidewalk as we walk side by side, his arm brushing mine slightly. He seems more forward than usual, and I wonder if I've given him the wrong impression by showing up here.
He speaks after we round the corner, leaving the restaurant behind as we pass under street lamps. "Am I an asshole if I ask how she's doing, or if I don't?"
The mention of my sister tugs on my heart. "I'm pretty sure you're an asshole either way."
He laughs, the sound short and bitter. "Very true."
"It's okay," I say, "I'm an asshole too."
He shoots me a close-lipped smile, though it's not happy, instead it's self-deprecating and riddled with guilt. I somber up my own expression.
"She's devastated," I say quietly, dropping my eyes to my feet.
"Shit," he murmurs, before sighing. "I'm not sure what I was expecting to hear."
We're silent for a beat, and I press my lips together, staring at my shoes as I walk.
Parker glances down at me. "So," he says slowly. "What brings you here?"
"I don't know..." I trail off.
"Allie." He gives me a flat look. "Yes you do."
I take a moment to collect my thoughts as a car drives past, splashing water onto the sidewalk. "You did the right thing by leaving. Honestly. But you also said you'd be there for me, and then you left without a word," I confess, working to keep my voice even.
"I.." he begins, before pausing. "Yeah, I did, didn't I? I'm sorry. I couldn't be in that house anymore. I didn't want to keep stringing her along. You understand that." He looks at me again, lips curling into a tiny, sincere smile. "But I'm still here."
I kick at a stray rock, blinking rapidly. Even if he says he's here, I still can't tell him about everything. I don't feel like I can tell anyone.
Clearing my throat, I change the subject. "Where are you staying?"
"With my brother," he explains, "He lives in Robson, it's about twenty minutes away."
"What's he like? Why didn't you stay with him before?"
"We have a complicated relationship," he says, the words collectively sounding like a sigh. "He has a hard time staying out of trouble. We just recently reconnected. I don't plan to stay there long, though. I can't stand his friends. Nothing good happens when they're around."
"Hm," I hum. "So, you're the good kid, then?"
"I was," he says, his lips quirking up into an uncharacteristic smirk once he meets my eyes, "until I met you."
That statement alone reaffirms that I've given him the wrong idea. "Parker," I say, my voice firm, "I think we should—"
I'm cut off abruptly as I walk straight into a parking meter, and the jab is a direct blow to the wound on my side. A sharp puff of air leaves my mouth, as a blinding pain takes over my body. I see Parker stop short a few paces ahead of me, staring at me with confusion painted on his face.
I expect to recover in a few moments, as I always do, but this time the pain seems to worsen, and I gasp again, pressing my hands to it in a feeble attempt to stop it from spreading.
"Allie?" Parker calls, worried now.
I pull a hand away when I realize it feels warm, and it comes back stained with red, even through my jacket, causing my heart to collapse into my stomach. I thought I was taking care of it. My knees threaten to buckle, my vision swimming as the burning sensation intensifies. I double over, falling to my knees, the sidewalk rough through the thin material of my jeans.
"What's going on?" he demands, crouching down to meet me. "Talk to me."
My cheek is seconds away from hitting the pavement before Parker catches me, his face pale and panicked.
"I'm taking you to the hospital," he says shakily, his voice urgent.
I can only manage a nod, and he collects me in his arms, careful not to disturb my stomach. He races back to the restaurant parking lot and straight to his vehicle, unlocking it with trembling fingers, becoming more desperate each time he hears me cry out.
He gingerly lays me down in the backseat, buckling me in, and I feel my head lolling around, my vision dancing with stars, my hands still pressed flush to my side.
"Just hang on," he urges. "Stay with me. Everything's going to be okay."
As he peels away from the building, the only thing I'm able to see is a dark forest, a shadow looming over me, and a blade glinting in the moonlight.
✘✘✘
"Tell me again what happened to you."
The air in the room is thick with tension, and I feel the gazes of the doctor, nurse, and Parker trained on my face. His eyes haven't left mine since we arrived, and I know he can tell I've been lying about how I got injured.
I sigh, preparing to repeat myself yet again. They've given me something for the pain, and it's numbed both the burning feeling and my emotions substantially. "I was riding my bike through the woods, and got caught on a root. I flew off the bike and landed on a jagged stump."
"And when was this? It's not on our records," the doctor says skeptically as he thoroughly examines it, and I feel his fingers gently prodding my skin. I know it's not the most believable excuse, but it's the best I've been able to come up with on the spot.
"A few weeks ago. I, um, wasn't here when it happened," I supply feebly. "I went to a different hospital."
Parker's eyes narrow marginally.
"Well, Alina," the doctor continues, "if that's the truth, the doctor who stitched you up must've been drunk. Which I find highly unlikely."
I frown, and he gives me a pointed look.
"You don't need to lie. But attempting to stitch it on your own with no medical training was not a good idea, to say the least."
A numb fear makes my body feel cold.
If it wasn't a doctor that did the stitches, who did?
I feel my face pale. The doctor watches me with wary eyes, and I know he's expecting a response. "I don't know what I was thinking," I say breathily, flashing an apologetic smile, struggling to summon the actress inside of me in my horrified state. "I didn't want anyone to know I got hurt, my mom is such a worrier. I guess it got a bit out of hand."
"It's infected now," he says dubiously. No wonder it isn't healing. "We'll have to take out the stitches, clean the wound, and then redo them properly."
"Okay," I say meekly, nodding, folding my hands together to hide their shaking. I ignore Parker's burning gaze on the side of my face.
"Don't go playing doctor again," the man warns.
"I won't," I promise, giving him another feeble smile. "By the way... is Dr. Meyer in today? I'd like to speak with him, if that's alright."
He's about to answer before the nurse pipes up, stepping forward. "He's not here, I'm sorry."
Her eagerness is suspicious, but I simply nod. "I'll have to catch him another time." There's a brief silence that settles over the room, and I feel my heart in my throat. So I clear it, pushing my hair out of my face, feeling a sheen of sweat on my forehead. "Well, what are you waiting for? Fix me up, doctor."
✘✘✘
A while later, after I've been put back together properly, Parker trails behind me through the parking lot. My movement feels a lot more restricted with freshly sewn stitches, but I still try to walk quickly. I can feel the obnoxious, panicked thrumming of my pulse in my neck. My mouth feels dry, and I don't think I've stopped shaking.
"What the hell was that?" Parker asks finally, his voice both incredulous, and full of anger.
I don't answer, just trying to focus on making it to his car, but then a particular license plate catches my eye. The vehicle it belongs to is parked right outside of the building, MEYER displayed proudly in dark blue letters. My eyes narrow. The nurse lied.
"You need to tell me what really happened," he continues, distracting me, his voice low and shaky. "Did someone do that to you? Did you do it to yourself?"
His car is several paces away, and I know once I reach it, I'll most likely break down, but I just want to get away from the hospital. My vision becomes blurred with tears, terror seizing my chest the more I think about what just happened. I reach out for the door handle of the passenger side, though before I can make contact, Parker's hand encloses around my wrist, and I look up at him.
"Allie," he says tightly. "Answer me."
I swallow, my heart trembling violently as I prepare to say the next words. "I think someone tried to kill me."