MONDAY
DAY EIGHT
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PARKER
At this point, it'd be amazing if I had any fingerprints left. Over the weekend, I knocked out a couple of the ensemble costumes, which were just refurbished gowns from last year's spring production of Phantom of the Opera and an older production of Othello. This morning, I took what I had completed to the drama room so I could do fittings with the cast later. Ian helped me grab the stuff from my dad's car.
I could've asked Lizzie.
But I didn't want to ask her for anything while she was miserable. Something about manual labor usually made me feel worse. I had taken all weekend trying to come up with a bit of encouragement or even a solution to Lizzie's problem. I just couldn't think of anything good enough to soothe the ache or the kind of words that would lay like the band-aid over her wound. By now in my typical relationship, I would've frozen, and ghosted my girlfriend, but this wasn't any girlfriend. This was Lizzie. Lizzie was unlike any girl or boy I had ever dated in the past.
This time it was going to take a little more than iced coffee to make things better.
Camille might know what I should do.
Or I should just ask Lizzie. This was the point of the trial, after all. How could I improve myself the next time I needed to console my girlfriend...? More than anything, I really didn't want Lizzie to be upset with me. I should've been there and taken the blame from Lizzie. It was my idea to begin with and I'm the one that egged her on. Hell, I'm the one who held the pair of scissors. What was wrong with me?
"Are you quitting the trial?" Camille asked me at lunch, staring at me with her thick black eyeliner rimmed eyes. I nearly choked on my milk. She didn't flinch. "Because don't forget, if you forfeit, you'll have to t-ping your house-"
"I'm not quitting," I said in between coughing up a lung. "I was just busy this weekend."
"You mean," Camille leaned in closer, "things got a little too real for you and you well, choked." She motioned to my current state while I beat the middle of my chest. "Not every conversation is an easy one, Parker."
"I know," I grumbled, despite the queasy feeling in my stomach.
Camille's eyes could really see right through me. My mom and I haven't spoken about the separation, not the reason or why. Nothing. I avoided talking to my dad about most things by hiding away in my room. If he dared to enter my room, his eye always drifted to my last, unpacked suitcase in my closet and we never talked about that either.
When he asked about the costumes, I didn't tell him anything more than "It's just a school project." If I told him about the play, he wouldn't get it. Just like when I was a kid. Whenever I had any theater-related things to do, he always pawned it off on someone else. He never took it seriously.
"Is this leading up to something?" I asked as Camille looked behind her shoulder for the hundredth time. "Is Lizzie coming or something?" My face reddened, my heart stretching before it started running a million miles per hour. "I thought she had lunch next period-"
Camille rolled her eyes. "You know there are other people in my life than you and Lizzie."
"Yeah, you've got Billy Bob. Are you still dating? You haven't talked about him-"
"Other friends, which I hung out with all weekend because you and Lizzie wouldn't let me in on your hair salon day-"
"You wanted to come?" I blinked. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"It's fine." She shrugged, obviously a little miffed. "I hung out with- oh! Hey! Over here!"
She stood up slightly, waving her arm. I followed her look to see Norah Brady walking through the cafeteria. I leaned almost completely off my chair, to see who in the world Camille could be calling out to behind Norah Brady because there was no way she would be looking for Norah Brady, my sworn enemy...
Camille turned around and spoke quickly, "Okay, so I know you and Norah haven't gotten along in the past, but she's really cool and I think you should give her another chance."
"Another chance?" My jaw dropped. My eyes nearly popped out of my head into my mac and cheese. Suddenly, it was like sitting on a raft at the mercy of violent rapid. If I looked forward, I could see the oncoming edge, where I would fall down a waterfall to my untimely death. "Is she coming to sit with us? She can't sit with us."
Camille rolled her eyes. "Okay, Regina George. Well, I already told her she could, so you better be nice."
"I'm nice-" I started to say, when I noticed Camille's unimpressed glower. My face went hot. I insisted, "I'll pretend to be nice."
"Great." Camille smiled and stood up. She gushed over Norah when she arrived, pulling her into a big hug like they were old friends. Their energies bounced off each other and got in my eyes. I internally groaned, glancing around the faces in the cafeteria for a friend and a different place to sit. Norah eyed me and I fastened the biggest grin to my face.
"Hey, Parker," she said in that annoying fake nice way.
"Hey," I said.
A lull went by and I grabbed my phone just out of awkwardness. I pretended to text, pressing random numbers into my calculator. Norah took the opportunity to just talk to Camille. I smiled and nodded along because they always said if you couldn't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all.
The back of my neck burned as my jaw set. Most of the time, I didn't know what Norah and Camille were talking about. Then, Camille asked Norah about track and I totally spaced out, their words turning into white noise. It was painful to be sitting right there, but not mattering at all. If I never came to this school in the first place, this would be Camille's daily life.
Unchanged. I didn't even leave a blemish on her life.
"Oh, Parker!" Hearing my name nearly scared my bones out of place. Norah's focus was totally and completely on me. "I saw Lizzie's haircut. It looked awesome, are you taking clients?"
"Why?" I peered at her and braced myself for the punchline. I decided to say it first before she could smack me in the face with it. "Because you want me to quit the play?"
"What?" Norah blinked. She eyed Camille awkwardly and shrunk away. "No. I just thought she looked good."
"Oh, thanks," I mumbled and picked up my phone again, deciding that if I couldn't look at how awkward this situation was, then it wasn't awkward. That's how life worked right? If I closed my eyes, then nothing could happen.
"It's a cute thing to do," she kept going, trying to revive this already long dead conversation. "I mean, you guys are like pretend dating or whatever, but I still think it's really sweet."
At first, no thought crossed my mind. I just watched Norah's full lips move as that little monkey with the symbols took over my brain's thoughts, rattling my skull. Looking over at Camille, she refused to meet my eyes, but her hands were red.
"You told her?" I finally remembered how to speak.
"Were we keeping it a secret?" Camille said, but she flushed, obviously guilty.
"Uh, it kind of defeats the purpose of this thing, if everyone thinks it's fake. It's supposed to feel real, Camille." The anger bubbling inside my stomach was real. This conversation or argument or whatever felt real. Too real.
"I won't tell anyone," Norah spoke up, her hands raised in surrender. She seemed genuine enough, worried enough that I could believe her.
"Alright," I said, pointing a dangerous finger between Norah's eyes. I warned her, "Don't say anything to Lizzie. My girlfriend will implode if you tell her you know. She wouldn't recover."
Norah's anxious look melted like icicles disappearing as spring arrived. "You two really are cute though. Have you thought about...?" She studied me, debating if she should ask me this question. "Have you thought about actually dating? For real? After this whole bet is over?"
A part of me never wanted the bet to end. It took the pressure off things, still gave me room to be my total fuck-up-self and still get to have Lizzie at my side. If it were real, she'd be something I could really lose. The stakes would be higher than having to t-ping my dad's house.
"No way," Camille spoke before I could. "I'm an expert on Parker. She's going to crawl right back to Emily when this is all done."
"No, I won't." My brows narrowed.
Emily's face popped into my head and the guilt bloomed in my stomach. The last time I saw her was at that party, where I got her hopes up, dashed those hopes and ruined her night. I owed Emily an apology. I owed Emily a lot of things.
"Emily was asking about you at practice the other day," Camille said.
"Why?"
"She was just asking." Camille shrugged.
"Hmm..."
I knew Emily.
Emily didn't ask questions for no reason. There was always an undercurrent, something she really meant to ask while saying something else.
I picked up my tray, noticing the time and stood from the table. I dumped my tray and got in line to add it to the stack of fellow dirty plates. Glancing around, I watched Camille and Norah carry on. They picked back up easily. A pang echoed in the corners of my chest. In a crowd of thousands, I still felt incredibly alone.
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Author's Note
Oh shiz! Norah knows! Do you think that will end good or bad? And what's with Camille 3rd degree? And she mentioned Emily? What the heck? Do you think Parker is going to be left behind? Did Parker just lose her best friend to Norah?
I hope you liked the update! Don't forget to vote on the chapter and leave a comment with what you think!
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