Author's note:
Hey guys,
As promised, here's the second chapter of the week. As always, feedback is appreciated and please don't forget to vote if you like it!
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Parker had never seen Heath's house so packed. It was in such a state that when he walked through the doors he wondered momentarily if he had wandered into someone else's home. Usually, it was rather pristine. His mother was always cooking something delicious, and his father was always reading the newspaper and smiled genuinely whenever anyone entered. It was the absolute dream of the perfect American home.
But at that moment, it looked as if the apocalypse had happened inside the four walls of the house within the span of one hour. Half the partygoers were guests of Heath's mom, meaning that there were more drunk middle-aged women then he had ever seen in his life. Parker's mother ran off to join her friends the moment they arrived, while his father went outside to smoke a cigar with Heath's father. Parker had a feeling he'd be the one driving them both home.
Heath spotted Parker before he could duck back outside. He was drunk, or high. Probably both. He was laughing at something that no one else seemed to find all that funny, with one arm over Jay, the other over Ron.
The moment his pale brown eyes met Parker's he broke out into a huge stupid grin.
"Park!" he said, "Park! Park!"
He sounded like a dog barking.
"Hey man, I'm glad you came," Ron said, looking genuinely relieved.
"Solid," Jay agreed.
Heath half hugged half hurled himself at Parker, slapping his back aggressively. "I knew you'd come," he slurred.
"Parker!" came a high pitched girl's voice. Suddenly Becca had flung herself on him as well, arms wrapped around his neck, cheek pressed against his face. He couldn't help note that the two people he'd rather not see for the rest of his life were both embracing him at once.
"Hi," he said. Heath stumbled back over to Ron, but Becca stayed next to him, smiling. "Where have you been all week?" she asked, placing a hand delicately on his arm. Normally such an action would have sent his mind racing, but somehow at that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.
"Just school, work, you know," he said.
She nodded understandingly. "Well I'm glad you came," she said, giving his arm a squeeze.
The five of them stood around in the corner drinking and reminiscing as the party got wilder around them. Parker couldn't help think that even though it was one of the biggest days of Heath and Becca's lives, they were basically doing the same thing they did every day in the basement.
An hour passed and Parker was beginning to think that Aggie wouldn't show.
"Why are you glancing at the door every minute?" Becca whispered to him.
"I'm not," he said.
"Holy shit is that..." Heath's voice trailed off and his eyes got wide.
Parker followed his gaze and laid eyes on a girl standing on the opposite side of the room. She was tall and thin, wearing a pale pink dress that hugged her body as if it was a second skin. Her long strawberry blonde hair swished as she looked every which way. It wasn't until he saw her startling green eyes locked on him, that he realized who she was.
The black makeup she usually wore was gone. Somehow without it, her eyes looked even bigger. She smiled at him, and dimples that he hadn't ever noticed before appeared around her mouth. She took a step towards him just as a boy next to her grabbed her arm.
Parker recognized him. They'd gone to school together. He had been popular and had hung around with Heath occasionally (most likely to buy weed). His name was Richard, or Roger, or something else that sounded like the name of a white middle-aged Banker.
He pulled Aggie into the kitchen with him and Parker's heart sank.
"She's with the same guy her sister hung around with," Ron said, "Typical."
"She might be even hotter than her sister was," Heath said, more to himself than to anyone else.
Becca smacked his arm.
"What?" he said.
"It's our engagement party, Heath."
"I'm just being honest."
Parker considered going into the kitchen to talk to her. Sure, Richard the Banker was the typical charming, popular type that girls like Aggie usually hung out with. But Parker and Aggie had been talking to each other every day for nearly two weeks now. That had to count for something, didn't it?
The other day, she had been sitting on the edge of the deck, dangling her legs through the bars, playing with her hair while wearing a rather grim expression; the one she always wore when she was thinking of her sister.
When he witnessed any of his friends upset, his natural instinct was to leave them alone. But that wasn't how he felt with Aggie. He felt as if it was his responsibility to distract her.
He had sat down next to her carefully, keeping his gaze on the cement beneath him.
"Pick something for me to focus on," he had said, "I want to give it another try."
"The water," she said dryly.
"We both know that won't work."
"The nest then."
"Nest?"
She pointed to that same jagged cliff poking out of the water. He followed her finger hesitantly, searching it until he saw what she was talking about. There, underneath a little ledge was a bit of dry brown grass with four little eggs perched on top of it. A seagull was hovering around it, adjusting the nest she had built.
"When do you think they'll hatch?" he asked.
She shrugged, "They won't all make it."
"What?"
"The seagulls. At least one of the eggs won't hatch. Two will most likely die of natural causes. Sickness, starvation, predators. The mother will be lucky if one lives."
He didn't have to look at her to know that she was getting that far off look in her eye. That one in which she wondered what her life would have been like if the other egg in her nest had lived.
"Okay, now tell me about that book. The dumb looking one you're always reading," he said.
"It's not dumb."
"Tell me why then."
He couldn't be sure, but he thought she was smiling-or close to it.
"Come on Aggie," he said, "You've got to tell me about the book before I remember how high off the ground I am and puke all over you and your hipster leather jacket."
"I am not a hipster," she said, sounding far more appalled by that comment than at the threat of him vomiting on her.
In the end, she had recited the whole book to him by memory. He didn't know why he assumed Anna Karenina would be girly and light-hearted. The entire thing sounded rather grim. It was about brutal Russian High Society and a woman's desperate desire to fit into it while participating in a widely public affair. All the while her jealousy corrupted her into insanity. It ended just as bleakly as it began, and Parker had a difficult time understanding why she liked.
He'd told her just as much, and she had laughed, forgetting her terrible mood minutes before.
It wasn't nothing. Their conversations didn't mean nothing. He was sure of it.
He was psyching himself up to go into the kitchen when he noticed all of his friend's eyes shift to something on his left.
"Hi," came Aggie's voice, uncharacteristically quiet.
Her heels made her about four inches taller and she could almost meet his eye-line. He felt a smile spread over his face the second he saw her.
"I'm glad you're here," she said, "I don't know anyone."
"These are my friends, Ron, Jay," he said, gesturing around the circle, "Becca, and-"
"Heath!", she said, looking directly at Heath in recognition. For a moment, Parker thought the two had met before. But then she turned to him and said, "He looks just like he does in your drawing."
Parker remembered the sketch that she had so adamantly looked at about a week back. He was impressed she was able to recognize who Heath was just from his drawing.
Heath looked at her questionably, "Drawing?"
"That sketch I did of you in the basement a few months ago, remember?" Parker said.
Heath shook his head. Parker rolled his eyes. Heath had posed for a good thirty minutes.
"You were high," Parker explained.
"Ah, that solves it!" Heath said.
"Drawing? Parker can't draw," came Becca's voice with a slight giggle. Parker looked at her in utter shock. She cocked her head, "Can you?" she asked. Not only had she been at multiple art shows at Parker's Community College, but he'd shown her sketches before in the basement. How could she not remember?
"I've seen him draw," said Ron, "Once or twice."
"I was in art class with him in High School," Heath said with a shrug, "He's all right."
"Parker can draw, and he's very good at it," Aggie said next to him. She sounded downright vicious, similar to the tone she'd had when they had first met and she'd called him a fucking idiot. He looked down at her and saw that she was scowling at each and every one of his friends who were exchanging glances at one another nervously. She looked terrifying. He couldn't help a warm feeling spreading through his heart.
"So you two...know each other?" Heath said, eyes moving between the two of them. He looked both surprised and amused.
"Yeah, we're..." Parker began, but his voice trailed off. He wasn't entirely sure what to call her. Somehow the word, 'friend,' didn't sound quite right.
"I like to throw his bucket over the railing of the Lighthouse while he's working," Aggie finished for him.
The three boys laughed, and Parker's face broke out in a wide smile. The statement wasn't untrue.
His eyes met Aggie's. She was staring up at him through long dark lashes that he hadn't noticed before, and her strawberry blonde hair was cascading over her bare freckled shoulders. "Do you want to take a walk-"
"Park, can I talk to you for a second?" Heath slurred before Parker could finish. Parker had hoped he could get through this party without having a heart-to-heart with Heath, but it didn't look as though that was going to be possible.
"Sure, Heath," he said, shooting Aggie an apologetic look. He hoped she wouldn't go back to talking with The Banker.
Heath led them to the backyard where his old golden retriever, Yowler, was sitting out the party. His tail began wagging tiredly the second he set eyes on Parker, whom he'd known since he was a puppy.
Parker patted the dog on the head fondly, "Congratulations, Heath," he said in the most genuine tone he could muster.
Heath leaned against his picket fence and waved Parker's words away. "Look, man," he said, annunciating his words with a great deal of effort, "I don't want to fight anymore."
Parker dug the heel of his Converse into the soft soil beneath him. He wasn't entirely sure if he was ready to stop fighting.
"Thing is," Heath said, taking a deep breath, "I knew you liked Becca. All along."
Parker searched his face for his usual arrogant smile. But it was absent. He was dead serious. "Really?" he asked.
Heath nodded, "Yeah. I know it's shitty." He pulled a joint from his pocket and lit it before inhaling deeply. He offered it to Parker who took it reluctantly. Part of his brain cursed him for it-he'd been feeling so much better being off the stuff. But he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to get through this conversation sober.
"The truth is," Heath said, "When she and I first started going out, I was sure you were going to steal her from me."
Parker stared at him. "What?"
"Yeah," Heath said with an awkward laugh, "And I mean, I wouldn't have blamed you. Not then, at least. We weren't serious. I didn't treat her very well. And you were always there for her any time she and I were fighting. And you're my best friend. So I thought, maybe that would be okay. Maybe it would be okay if you took her from me."
"That...you weren't..." Parker wasn't sure how to respond. He felt as if he was seeing hell freeze over with his very own eyes.
"It's how I felt," Heath said quietly, "I kept thinking that one of those days you'd come up to me and tell me that you were into her. Or that Becca would stop by my house to tell me that you two were having some secret affair. I kept waiting for it. But then...nothing happened. You never did anything. And then things got more serious with Becca and I. And now I love her. I need her. Probably more than I've ever let on. And now...here we are."
Parker just stood there, gaping. He knew Heath was smart, but he had always thought of him as very aloof to what was going on around him. When he found his voice he choked, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Heath's eyes narrowed, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because she didn't want me!" Parker snapped. He couldn't believe he was even having this conversation.
"But what about what you want?" Heath asked.
Parker threw his hands up in the air, "It doesn't matter!"
"It DOES matter!" Heath said, his voice going even louder. Parker began to worry the other party goers might hear. "It. Does. Matter." he said, hitting one hand against the other with each word.
Both of them were staring at each other, breathing hard. For a moment, Parker thought Heath might lunge at him. But instead, he ran his hands through his neatly combed chestnut hair, causing it to become the sort of trendy disheveled mess that it was most days. "Honestly Parker, sometimes you make me so fucking mad," he said, his eyes shining. "You should have tried. You should have tried to take her from me. Then we would have beat the shit out of each other three years ago, and it would have been resolved. And at least we'd have closure right now. You can't just give up without trying, Park. You can't choose to put everyone else before yourself and then use it as an excuse to hate them.
You put my needs before yours, Becca's needs before yours, you do everything for your mom, you give your dad all your money. When the fuck are you going to realize that nobody is going to show up out of thin air and give you everything you want? You have to fight as hard as you possibly can. You might lose. But you've got to try." Parker had never seen Heath this angry or this serious before.
"I try," Parker said, but he could hear in his own voice that it wasn't true.
"Like hell you do," Heath said, shaking his head. He stared at him, eyes squinted. As if Parker was the most disappointing thing he had ever seen in his entire life. "You're better than this, Park."
Parker was at a loss for words. Half because he had never seen Heath so animated or passionate about anything in his life. But the other half was because he had a point.
Why hadn't he tried to tell Becca how he felt all those years ago? Fear? Embarrassment? Self-loathing? He had thought that keeping all his thoughts to himself was helping everyone, but it wasn't true. Parker deserved to try. He owed it to himself. Even if he fell, crashing and burning, he deserved to take the plunge.
So why hadn't he ever done it?
"I love you like a brother, Park," said Heath, "So I'm only going to ask you this once. Do you want Becca?"
Parker stared at him in utter disbelief. "Are you kidding me?"
"Just answer the question."
"You're a fucking prick," he said, "This is exactly why we fought a week ago. You can't just go around acting like you can hand your girlfriend over to me like a...a...like a sandwich or something."
Heath's face contorted into a strange, sad smile. "Sandwich?" he asked, "That's where your mind goes?"
Parker shrugged, "Well, you never finish your sandwiches."
"Look," said Heath, "Just forget I'm a prick for a minute and forget about the situation. Answer me. Do you want Becca?"
Parker thought about the question. He remembered Becca's smile, Becca's laugh, Becca's sweet personality-all the things that had attracted him to her in the first place.
And then he remembered her words, ten minutes earlier. "Parker doesn't draw," she'd said, laughing as if her statement was the most obvious thing she'd ever said. As if she didn't know that he loved drawing more than anything else in the world.
Because she didn't know. Because she didn't know him. Not really.
Because he had spent so much time pining after her, envious of her relationship with Heath that he had never really thought about the quality of the conversations they had. Had they ever spoken about anything that wasn't related to Heath? He couldn't remember a single talk they'd had that was particularly significant.
Her eyes had looked empty and hollow moments earlier. They didn't make his heart beat faster. And when he thought of them now, they only morphed into two wide green orbs glowing against black smoke.
"No," he said finally.
Heath nodded, a fond smile on his lips. "That's what I thought."
Parker realized he was still holding the joint, and handed it back to Heath.
"I don't think you're a pussy, Park," Heath said, inhaling deeply, "I think you just don't know what you want."
Parker opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped himself, biting his tongue until it hurt. "You might be right," he said.
"But Park, you know that I do want her, right?" Heath said, he was looking at him seriously, and Parker thought he heard his voice crack on that last word, "I'm not good at showing it. And I know I've fucked up. But I know I want her. And I'll be better. I'll get a good job. I'll pay more attention to her. I'll...I'll..." He was on the verge of tears. Parker hadn't seen him cry since they were thirteen and someone stole his skateboard.
"It's okay, Heath," Parker said, patting him on the shoulder awkwardly, "I believe you."
Heath nodded, pressing his lips together. A short silence passed between the two of them as Heath passed the joint to Parker.
"Becca wants to have the wedding in August," Heath said, "Her Grandmother isn't doing too well and she wants her to be there when she gets married."
Now that all the anger and years of complicated emotional baggage had been lifted from them, it suddenly dawned on Parker that his best friend was going to have an actual wedding. It seemed like it was only yesterday that they were standing outside the Liquor Store at fourteen trying to convince every random asshole who walked by to buy them beer.
"So, in four months," Parker said, "You're going to be...
"Married," Heath said with a sheepish smile, "Fucking weird right?"
Parker laughed, "Yes."
"You want to...you'll..." Heath cleared his throat looking uncomfortable, "You'll be my best man, right?" His eyes flickered to Parker's, and for a moment he was sure he was staring at ten-year-old Heath. Shy, ten-year-old Heath trying to look confident as he asked if he could sit down at Parker's lunch table.
"Yeah," Parker said, "Of course I will."
The two stayed there until they finished the joint, Heath catching him up on what dumb conversations they had been having in the basement all week. Afterward, they began to walk around the side of the house, towards the front porch.
"How's the new job?" Heath asked.
It might have been the biggest question Heath could have asked him at that moment. The job was boring and mundane, of course. Until exactly 3pm. Then it became the most interesting and terrifying two hours of his entire day.
"It's all right," Parker said finally.
"Uh huh," Heath said smiling, "And how's that going?" He nodded towards the front porch where Aggie stood, talking to Becca and to Parker's horror, The Banker. He felt his left hand ball into a fist and tried to control his facial muscles to keep from glaring.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"What do I mean?" Heath laughed, "Aggie-fucking-Caulborn is what I mean."
"What about her?"
"Come on man, I'm not blind," Heath said, nudging him slightly, "What's happening between the two of you?"
Parker wasn't even sure how to answer the question. Their relationship felt a lot more complicated than it should for two people who had met only a few weeks ago.
"She stops by the Lighthouse," he said with a shrug, cleverly skipping the parts where she had nearly fallen to her death and he had helped her pry open the creepy diary of her dead sister. "Sometimes we talk," he said.
"Does she run with the same crowd her sister did?" Heath asked, glancing towards The Banker.
Parker shook his head. "She's never with anyone. I think..." he watched her lean against the railing swishing her wine around in her plastic cup in that way that only people with money seemed to know how to do naturally. She stared at the deep burgundy liquid as it moved around in the cup, looking stoic and far off. "I think she's lonely," he finished finally.
Heath was watching him with an expression that was something between curiosity and amusement.
"Well," he said, reaching for another joint in his pocket, "Maybe you should change that."
Parker's gaze shifted to Richard, who was watching Aggie with a look in his eye that he didn't like at all. He felt a pang of jealousy go through his heart and quickly reminded himself that it was undeserved. After all, she wasn't his. "She's got the Banker," he muttered miserably.
Heath looked confused for a moment until he realized who he was referring to. A wide smile spread over his whole face. "He does look like a Banker, doesn't he?" he said, "Hey Richard!"
All three of them looked in Heath's direction. Parker felt his heartbeat quicken slightly as Aggie's green eyes met his own.
"What?" Richard called back.
"You're a Banker!"
"Fuck you, Heath!"
Heath laughed loudly, clutching his stomach until Parker worried he might fall over. He'd forgotten how intoxicated he was.
Aggie was watching the whole display in awe before shifting her gaze to Parker with a small smile on her face.
He felt a hand on his back, pushing him forward. It was Heath, who was starting to recover from his laughing fit. "Go," he urged, pushing him once more.
Parker made his way to the porch where the three of them stood. Aggie smiled at him as he stood next to her. He tried to ignore Richard the Banker, who was shooting daggers at him.
"Want to get a drink?" he asked.
"She's got a drink," Richard said.
"I need a different one," Aggie snapped, pouring her wine into the flowers.
Parker tried to hold back his laughter.
"Aggie!" came a voice from behind them. They turned to see a man who looked to be in his early forties wearing a clean gray suit. He had a neat mustache and a pair of trendy looking glasses perched upon his nose. Next to him was a tall blond woman with a bob haircut whose mouth looked as though it was set in a permanent frown.
"Who is that?" Parker asked.
"My Dad," Aggie said, rolling her eyes, "Looks like it's time to go."
Richard had stalked off somewhere and Becca had wandered inside, looking a bit perturbed for some reason Parker didn't know of. Only the two of them were left on the porch as the sun disappeared behind redwood trees in the distance.
"Aggie!" her father called again.
She smiled apologetically at Parker before picking up her purse, preparing to leave.
"Aggie?" Parker said quietly.
She turned to him, her pale eyes shining in the darkness. He'd seen them a hundred times by now but sometimes their intensity still startled him.
"Are you coming to the Lighthouse tomorrow?" he asked
"Tomorrow?"
"Yeah," he said. She was watching him with an unreadable expression. He took a deep breath, Heath's words ringing in his ears, "We could do something afterward. Tomorrow, after I'm done working, I mean. We could get something to eat...or-"
"I've got plans tomorrow," she said.
"Oh," he said, "Right." He cursed himself for being so stupid. She'd been hanging out with him out of convenience and boredom. Of course, she didn't want to spend actual time with him.
She turned around to leave but then paused, standing on the steps, back turned to him. She spun around, eyeing him with a strange look on her face. "Do you want to call in sick tomorrow?"
He stared at her. "What?"
"To work. Do you want to call in sick to work and come with me?"
"Wha...where are you going?"
"On a road trip"
"Road trip?" he asked, looking dumbfounded.
She laughed. "Well, I guess it's not a real road trip. It's to a town down south. An hour and a half there and an hour and a half back. There's a place I need to visit."
Parker was both too stunned and excited by the proposition to say anything immediately. "Aggie!" called her father again, sounding irritated.
"Coming!" she called. She turned back to Parker expectantly, waiting for an answer.
He didn't let himself think about it. He'd never called in sick to work in his life, and he had no idea what town they were going to, nor what they were doing once they got there. Knowing Aggie, it could be anything. But at that moment, he didn't care.
"Yeah," he said, "I'll come."
Before he knew it, she had taken his phone from his hands and was punching her number into it.
"Text me when you wake up," she said, handing it back to him.
Before he could reply, she was trotting off towards her father's car.
He stood there watching her go with a huge grin on his face. A hand appeared on his shoulder and he didn't have to look to know who it was.
"Did that actually just happen?" Heath said. He sounded almost as excited as Parker felt. He had to love him a little for that.
"I think so," he said.
Heath patted his shoulder. "Don't fuck it up," he said before walking back inside. Parker stood there, watching until the car was completely out of view.