Stealing Parker

“Oh.” I turn to find him furrowing his eyebrows. He’s so sweet.



“It’s nothing to do with you,” I say, even though it is.



He takes his cap off, stuffs it in his back pocket and steps toward me. “Do you really want to go with me?”



“Yes,” I whisper, and swallow. I find his eyes. He takes a step closer. I take a step closer.



“So let’s go together.”



I glance at his lips, he smiles down at me and goose bumps pop all over my arms, telling me this is right, but it’s wrong. The smell of apple wafts under my nose. His shampoo?



“I’m, uh,” he says. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better and…I want to try for something more.”



“With me?”



He nods. “I wasn’t sure at first, you know, if I wanted to pursue something serious with you.” He moves a step closer—so close his breath warms my cheek. “But I do.”



“You do?” I ask softly.



His hand slides onto my hip. “Yeah.”



It’s what I’ve wanted. A relationship with a guy I can trust. A good friend. An equal. He makes my heart slam against my chest. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone this much in my life. His other hand settles on my waist and I slide my fingers inside his loose sweatshirt sleeves, making him tremble. Our chests press together; I can feel his pulse.



Will leans in toward my lips, his hair flopping against my nose, and I want this to happen but it can’t. I step back, and he stumbles forward.



“I can’t do this until I talk to Drew.”



He rights himself, looking embarrassed, then confused. “Bates?”



“Yeah.”



He scratches his nose. “Whatever you need…but you’re not messing with me, right? I wouldn’t be a one-night thing?”



“No no no.” I shake my head and look him straight in the eye.



“I would’ve asked you out a long time ago, but I wanted to make sure we could have something real.” His voice stumbles.



“I want something real too, but I need to do some stuff first, okay? Trust me?”



Will slides a hand onto my shoulder. “I can wait.”



“Thanks.” I slip my hand on top of his and squeeze. He begins to lean his forehead toward mine when I hear a loud cough.



I jerk away from Will to find Brian standing in the doorway, pursing his lips. He secures his bat under an arm.



“You told me you weren’t interested in her, Whitfield,” Brian says. God, he looks so pissed.



“Nothing’s going on,” Will says quickly.



“Not sure I believe you, but anyway, I don’t think this is the time or place for this, okay?” He points from me to Will.



“Okay, Coach,” Will says.



“Coach Burns told Parker that she isn’t allowed to date players and still be a manager,” Brian replies. “You’re excused, Whitfield.”



“But—”



“You’re excused.”



Will glances at me, then walks out of the equipment shed. My heart pounds while Brian glares at me. He glances over his shoulder and shuts the shed door. “What’s going on, Park?” he whispers, setting his bat against the wall.



“Will asked me to prom.” I wring my hands and bite my lip.



“What did you say?” Brian asks softly, moving toward me.



“No. I said no. For now.”



“For now?”



“I said I’d think about it.”



He lets out a mean laugh and shakes his head. “God, I’m so stupid.”



“Why?”



“Getting involved with someone your age. I should’ve known you’d never be mature enough—”



“I’ve been trying to talk to you about what I want and what I need, and you never listen—”



“Because nothing’s at stake for you! My whole life is on the line here, Parker. For you! Because I like you—”



“If you really liked me, you’d listen—”



“If you really liked me, you wouldn’t be cheating on me in the equipment shed with a guy named Corndog and—”



“I didn’t even know we’re in a relationship. You said we can’t date for real, and I don’t know what we are—”



“We’re nothing.”



I bow my head and try to swallow the lump in my throat. Doesn’t work. I cough. I liked Brian. Things started off so well. He seems just as confused as I am.



“Nothing’s happened with Will.” I don’t even know why I’m telling Brian this. It’s none of his business. But I guess I want to show I can be a good person. A tear drips down my cheek. I wipe it away with the heel of my hand.



Brian gives me a look of sympathy and comes closer. He brushes my hair off my shoulder and leaves his hand there. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he whispers.



His mouth hovers next to my ear and I’m thinking he’ll kiss it, and I’m about to tell him that I don’t want this right now, that we rushed into this-whatever-it-is and we should get out while we can, before we both get hurt more or get in trouble or he really falls hard, like I’m falling hard for Will, when the shed door opens.



“Ohmigod!” Laura blurts, and slaps a hand over her mouth.



I step away from Brian. Try to get my breathing under control. I clutch my chest, staring my former best friend down. She turns and flies across the field.



Holy hell. What’s she gonna do?



I’m summoned to the principal’s office at 8:16 on Friday morning. I’m surprised it took that long.



Last night, Brian and I spoke briefly on the phone.



“Maybe you should call Laura,” he said. “Tell her that she misunderstood what she saw.”



I chipped all the soft pink polish off my nails. I couldn’t stop shaking. “She hates me, Brian.”



“So what are we gonna do then?”



“Pretend like nothing happened? If I call her up, it’s as good as admitting guilt.”



“But if Dr. Salter starts asking around, Bates might say something.”



“He won’t say anything. He’s my best friend.”



“And you’re sure Whitfield doesn’t know anything about me and you?”



“Do you really think he would’ve invited me to prom if he knew about you?”



Brian went silent for a minute. “I would’ve taken you to prom, if we had been in high school at the same time.”



“I probably would’ve said no.”



He laughed softly. “Why’s that?”



“You’re a perv! You chiseled through the concrete between the locker rooms and spied on girls!”



“I bet I could’ve gotten you to say yes.”



I smiled at my ceiling, liking that Brian and I were talking normally again. Everything got messed up the minute we started kissing. “Okay, maybe I would’ve said yes.”



“I bet you’d look really beautiful in a gown.”



“Thanks,” I whispered.



“Listen, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”



We hung up, and I curled under the covers. My phone buzzed. Mom texted: Good night. I love you.



Now I’m thinking of her as I walk to the principal’s office. When I was a little girl, I would tug on her skirts and dresses, to get her to smile down at me. I loved seeing her face. Friendly, tan, smooth, beautiful, loving. I wish I could see her now. I wish she had stayed with us. None of this ever would’ve happened if Mom were here. She would’ve noticed me sneaking out of the house late at night. She would’ve spotted the small bruise on my collarbone where Brian kissed me too hard. She would’ve noticed the condoms in my purse, the ones I bought just in case.



She’d know, plain and simple.



But she’s gone, and I need to face that. Just like I’m about to face the principal. His secretary doesn’t meet my eyes as she tells me to go on in, where I find my father and Dr. Salter chatting about graduation.



“Hey, Dad,” I say, accepting a kiss on the cheek before plopping down in the seat beside him. “What are you doing here?”



“Dr. Salter called and asked me to drop by before work. Is everything okay?” The circles under his eyes have gotten worse since he decided not to pursue Veena. Since Ryan went to the hospital.



“I hope so,” I reply, squeezing my knees.



Dad and I turn our attention to the principal, who stares me down. He studies my face and my hands start trembling, but I will them to stop. I can’t show any guilt. None.



“What’s going on?” Dad says.



Dr. Salter asks, “Parker, are you involved with Coach Hoffman?”



“What?” Dad exclaims, sitting up straight.



I lie, choosing my words carefully. “We talk sometimes, sure.”



“That’s what he said too,” Dr. Salter says. “But are you sure nothing ever happened with him? Romantically or otherwise?”



I let my mouth fall open. “No, sir.”



“What’s Dr. Salter talking about?” Dad asks, resting a hand on my back. “I thought you were dating that Corn Fritter fellow.”



“It’s Corndog, Dad. Not Corn Fritter.”



“You’re dating Will Whitfield?” Dr. Salter asks, picking up a glass paperweight. “I wasn’t aware.”



“Why would you be interested in that?” I ask.



The principal plays with the paperweight. “It’ll be a nice human interest addition to the piece I’m writing about our valedictorian and salutatorian for the Franklin Times. But Laura Martin’s allegations are quite serious. She claims she found you with Coach Hoffman in the equipment shed. She said he was kissing your ear.”



“No,” I blurt, shifting in my seat.



Dad’s eyes bulge. “That’s impossible.”



“Laura hates me,” I say. “She’ll lie about anything to make me feel bad—”



Dr. Salter holds up a hand. “I should have already turned this over to the school board for a proper investigation, but you’re such a good student, and you’ve never been in trouble. And I’d hate to ruin Coach Hoffman’s career before it even starts.” The principal coughs and averts his eyes, to concentrate on his inspirational calendar, which reads Confidence.



“There must be some mistake,” Dad says. “Laura couldn’t have seen my daughter with Coach Hoffman. Parker is a good Christian girl, and she’s dating a good Christian boy. He goes to Westwood, and we go to Forrest Sanctuary.” Dad’s face is red and his neck bulges.



I squeeze my hands between my knees and stare down. I can’t believe I did this. Dad’s lying for me, and he doesn’t even know it. And now he’s dragging poor Will into this. Please let this be enough for Dr. Salter. Please let it be enough. I promise you, Lord, I’ll never do anything wrong again if you can help me out of this.



I can’t ruin Brian’s life. I can’t.



“Call Corndog down here,” Dad insists. “He’ll tell you the truth.”



“Dad, don’t.”



“Why not?” Dr. Salter asks.

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