“Okay, so maybe I was a little self-absorbed during high school, but, Ma, you aren’t winning any neighborhood awards here,” I mutter, chuckling.
“Oh, shoo with you. I love you, my boy, so I’m not going to disillusion your hopes that you were only self-absorbed in high school,” she tells me, laughing and flicking the tea towel at my head.
Rather than be pissed, I can’t help but wink at her and dodge her pathetic attack. Okay, so before Parker I think I might have been in danger of letting all the fanfare go to my head. Girls throwing themselves at me, teachers willing to email me my assignments and Herons supporters always volunteering to let me skip any line. Thankfully, I won’t have to worry about turning into a giant prick now that I have Stars to level me out. Every Friday, if we have a chance before class, she likes to sit us in the shade hidden beneath overgrown branches. Each time we go out to dinner, she ensures we avoid the groupies or the places usually filled with avid supporters so I finally noticed the things I had started taking for granted.
“Okay, so when I see the nerdy girl, I’ll say hi,” I tell my ma, giving her a sly grin before letting her know, “But when you meet my girlfriend, you’re going to feel guilty that you wanted anyone else for me.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she walks on water.” She sighs. “Then you’ll never visit me.”
Even though she’s teasing, I can’t help but take a step forward and wrap my arms around her back as she puts the cauliflower in the fridge. “Ma you couldn’t keep me away.”
*****
Later that night, as we sit on the couch in front of the television, Ma wrapped in a thick woolen throw to ward off the cold and my legs propped up on the coffee table, I decide I should probably let her know about Nathan. Hell, if Parker’s going to be in my life, I was slowly realizing he might end up in it as well. I was trying really hard not to be amused by that stubborn streak of hers.
“I’ve seen Nathan around Penmore,” I tell her casually, keeping my eyes locked on the screen currently playing an old Christmas movie with Bing Crosby.
“Really? And how is Nate?” she asks, turning her head toward me, smiling.
“Nate?” I ask. Her completely cheerful tone is flipping me out. Where’s the anger? Where’s the anxiety I was anticipating?
“Isn’t that what everyone calls him?”
“Well, people who don’t think he fucking shouldn’t have been born might, but I’m pretty solid with Nathan. Shit name for a shithead,” I tell her, completely forgetting my original intention of slowly introducing the idea of him entering our lives, instead reminding her why we should hate him.
This, however, causes my mom to pause the movie and rebuke my comment by asking, “Grayson Waters, what the hell are you spouting off about?”
“Ma, you can’t honestly like the fact that he’s alive, a symbol of Dad’s cheating and leaving you for that woman, let alone skirting along the edges of our lives.”
“I’ll have you know that Tahnee and I came to an agreement long ago not to blame each other for the lies of one man.”
“You spoke with her? The mistress?”
“Kiddo, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry, but about seven years ago your father got mixed up with some very shady characters. Your father, like in all of his business plans, was unable to pay his partners. Unfortunately, even though he had left Tahnee and Nate about a year after he left us, she was attacked by some of the debt collectors. She had three broken ribs and was in the hospital for a month recovering. I offered to care for Nate, but she insisted on keeping him close. Apparently, Nate enjoyed himself, imitating each of the different nurses and doctors to entertain her while she was recovering. He sounded a lot like you once were, up to a lot of mischief and charming every female in sight.”
“You didn’t think to tell me that you might have been at risk of getting attacked,” I demand. Furious and fearful of what could have happened. Shit, I’ve let her live alone for nearly a year and half. Anything could have happened.
“Baby boy, we were lucky; by that time, your father hadn’t been around in years. None of his acquaintances knew about our existence. It was part of the reason Tahnee and I started to mend fences. She insisted on warning me to stay far away in order to protect us.”
“So, you guys still talk?” I ask, shocked at the sincerity and warmth in Ma’s tone each time she mentioned the woman’s name.
“Occasionally. We have the same problems, you know. A terrible ex-husband we both were fooled into loving and a dangerously good-looking son who is bound to have girls chasing him and stirring up trouble.”
As stunned as I was, it was suddenly dawning on me that if this was Ma’s opinion—and I knew Parker was all for reconciliation—it looked like I might be getting a big brother when I get back to Penmore. Thank fuck we’re too old for bunk beds.
PARKER
Dinner at Grandma’s was an unexpected delight. Mimi’s penchant to over-decorate her small cottage during the holiday season with enough ornaments and figurines to fill a mansion was surprisingly comforting. Acorns, pumpkins and pilgrims seemed to follow me in every room, distracting me from my internal monologue of self-loathing. The guilt had been eating at me every time my phone alerted me of an incoming message from Gray, but little smiling pumpkins seemed to momentarily charm me. When we finally sat down to eat, I consumed my weight in Mimi’s special-recipe fried chicken and mashed potato. Partially because I had missed her cooking, but it might also have been a result of the many occasions I found myself inexplicably stuffing my mouth with food, which made me ruefully unable to answer any questions about how school was going.
No one seemed to realize that by the time we were making our farewells, I hadn’t told anyone a single thing about my life at Penmore besides briefly describing Keeley and mentioning that I bought some new clothes.
When we were in the car driving home, I pulled out my phone to read the latest message I received from Grayson.
Hey, Stars, totally wish you were here. Ma’s really planning a big lunch tomorrow. I’ll probably return to you with a gut. Prepared to stick around if there’s a little more of me to love?
It was really a sweet message.
It let me know he was thinking of me and reminded me that he was coming back to me.
I loved both those things.
I still wish he hadn’t sent me anything.
Because with each new message meant writing a new reply.
It meant lying.
And each lie or omission seemed to hurt more than the last.
Wish I were with you too. It will be over soon. And if you return to me looking completely different I won’t care a bit. Just return to me.
When Dad turned the car onto our street, I sunk lowly in my seat. I wasn’t able to hide myself completely without raising suspicion, but I thought if I could just keep an eye out I could drop my phone at my feet and need to reach down, hiding my entire body from the window, to pick it up. I had done it in high school a few times—Avoidance Tactics 101—and while I haven’t needed to avoid Grayson in a while, it was like riding a bike.
A bike I hated.
A rusted bike I desperately wanted to drop off at the local Goodwill collection bin before I caught an infection. Or worse, crashed it.
Thankfully, the coast appears clear when we pull into the driveway and Dad parks the car. I’m about to make a mad dash for the front door when he asks me to grab the extra cake Mimi made for my homecoming from the backseat.
I should have made an excuse.
I needed to go to the bathroom.
I desperately needed a drink of water.
Something.
Anything.
Except, I didn’t. I was too distracted by the idea of thick icing and edible roses.
I got out of the passenger seat, opened the back door of Dad’s old Ford Expedition and picked up the stunning red velvet cake. I was already imagining eating half of it with a fork straight from the tray. Until I tu
rned around and, due to force of habit, lifted my head and looked toward Grayson’s house.
And into Grayson’s stunning blue eyes. Crash.
“Stars?”
GRAYSON
“Hi,” she chokes out.
Thank Christ.
For a second there, I was worried I had gone crazy with missing her and my imagination was wreaking havoc with my sight. It had only been a few days, but I missed smelling her strawberry shampoo, seeing those big amber eyes cloud with need and feeling her soft body melt into mine as we drifted to sleep.
Fortunately, with that one short word, I knew that my Stars was truly standing before me. Her long brown hair flowing over her shoulders in loose curls, her skin-tight jeans and firm tank top showcasing her incredible body.
I was in love with her. Actually, I have known it for a while; I accepted that she would be it for me. No more easy pussy, just big, beautiful honey eyes.
I thought about telling her on Christmas or New Year’s, however, staring at her like a man dying of thirst I was ready to let her know exactly how I felt. No more waiting. I wouldn’t be planning something big or ridiculously lavish. After I let her know that her gesture of travelling here to meet me was a ludicrous expense—even if I had possibly left my address on twelve different pieces of paper around hers and my apartment—I was going to tell her how I felt. Right here. Right now.
“God, you’re gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re really in front of my house. Fuck, I’ve missed you. Is this my Christmas present? Because I really don’t want to hear that you’ve spent all your savings on flights to come visit and have also bought me something for later. This is all I really wanted anyway. You here. Within touching distance. Hell, I sound like that stupid Christmas song,” I tell her as I drop the mail I had come out to collect and step toward her. “I really hope this didn’t set you back. But seeing as you’re here, let me show you my childhood bedroom and, more importantly, my childhood be—”
“Gray, um… No, that’s not why I’m here. Umm, I’m back because – ”
Before she finishes, Dr. Elliot, my next-door neighbor, walks over. He places a hand on Stars’ shoulder and greets me, “Hey, Gray welcome back. Fantastic season you’re having! I was just going to ask my girl here if she’d seen you since she started at Penmore, but I guess with you two chatting I don’t have to. Had I known she was considering applying to Penmore, I probably would have asked you to keep an eye out last school break. Don’t suppose I need to now. Can’t imagine a man like yourself not being a gentleman to all the girls on campus.”
“No sir,” I tell him.
“Anyway, sweetie, I’ll grab the rest of your stuff. I don’t know about you, but I need a nap after eating all of Grandma Mimi’s food. It was nice to see you again, Gray.”
“You too, Dr. Elliot.” Calm. Quiet. Devoid of emotion.
He walks away whistling, unaware of the grenade he just threw into our conversation. My ears ring and my heart stops. There’s just the silence after the explosion. The blossoming pain and death that follows complete destruction.
“Gray, I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you—” she starts to explain.
I just cut her off with the first thing she should have ever told me. “So, you’ve lived next door to me.”
I say it quietly. I space each word out to ensure that I don’t miss a single flinch. Even as I struggle to keep the disgust from my face, I manage to tightly leash my shock and the blooming anger inside of me.
“Ye-yes.”
“And you’ve always known this? This isn’t a huge surprise for you right now?” I ask coolly.
The fury inside of me is twisting and growing like ivy.
Burrowing into my veins and muscles.
Until it conceals and smothers my heart.
“Gray, I was going to—”
“Don’t,” I stress sharply. I will not listen to her excuses. I cannot handle hearing her justifications without losing the thin control I had over my emotions.
“Did you follow me? To Penmore?” I question. “Are you the Elliot girl my mom told me about yesterday? The one who’s been in love with me for years?”
My words, as sharp and cold as metal, cut away all the bullshit she has erected before me.
“Gray—”
“You’ve watched me?”
“I never meant—”
“Just answer the damn question!” I’m losing it. My grip on my anger. My tightly covered pain. My questions are getting louder. Crueler. More volatile.
“Ye-yes.”
“Is this a disease? Some sick disorder you need to be hospitalized over?” I spit. “Do you even fucking care about me, or have we been playing out some weird fucked-up fantasy you’ve built up in your head? Or is this some bet? A weird game you’re playing? Fuck, is this entire thing a con? Had I told you I loved you today, would you have won some fucking prize?”
“No, Gray. That’s not what this is at all. I love you. And not just because I watched you as a kid,” she tells me with tears streaming down her face.
“Just fucking stop,” I tell her. “I’m done. I don’t want to know anymore. I’ve pretty much got it figured out. Hell, my old man could take cues from you. You’re a fantastic actress. Fuck, you avoided saying your last name for weeks and I never even noticed. It’s a fucking joke. Not once did I doubt a single thing you told me. Well done,” I say before turning back to my house. To a house that’s been less than three damn feet from her own this whole time.
“Gray, please—,” she cries, touching my shoulder, trying to pull me back toward her. Except I’m numb. Too numb to feel her sorrow or fear.
I turn and face her.
To make myself very fucking clear.
“This is beyond anything I’ve ever had to deal with from a fan before, but I’m sure Coach knows how to get a restraining order. I won’t get one unless you force my hand. Do not touch me. Do not look at me. I want you to stay as far away from me as you can get. Do not follow me. I mean it. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear you. This, right here, right now? This is it for us.”
I see her tears.
I see her pain.
I just don’t believe any of it.
Not anymore.
PARKER
“My Body is a Cage” by Arcade Fire is quietly playing from my bedroom speakers. My entire room is a pit of depression. The blue walls, dark drapes and music all help me sink into my sorrow.
I was on a hamster wheel in my mind, going over my terrible choices again and again.
I wish I could escape into my vivid imagination. However, sitting on my bed, where I used to come up with fictitious youthful daydreams about a future I would share with a Grayson who noticed me, made it impossible. The knowledge that I managed to grasp my make-believe then destroy it in a matter of months keeps me trapped in a prison of my own emotion.
I was meant to visit Millie yesterday. She hasn’t returned any of my calls since she came to visit me. And I was going to settle in, visit with Mimi then demand Millie talks to me.
But I couldn’t face anyone anymore. I could barely handle the pity and concern reflected in my father’s gaze as he watched me return yesterday afternoon from my discussion with Gray, put the cake in the fridge like a zombie and barricade myself in my bedroom.
It’s been two days and I’ve only left my room to stoically eat Thanksgiving lunch.
I didn’t want to leave my bed again. I could barely stomach eating anymore anyway. I was numb on the outside. On the inside, if I wasn’t replaying my choices, I was reliving the shock and horror that distorted Gray’s handsome face when he discovered who I really was. I wasn’t the cute girl he met at school. I was a crazy stalker from his hometown, one he felt he needed a restraining order for.
I had one more day before I would have to return to Penmore and the decrepit remains of the picturesque life I got to lead for a little while. I decided I would sleep the time away or pretend to sleep so no one would disturb my
melancholy. However, before I have a chance to fake snore, Dad walks in and sits on the end of the bed. He knew if he knocked, he would be ignored. In the back of my brain, buried deep beneath my pain, I hoped he knew it wasn’t personal. I was planning on ignoring the entire world.
“This is about the boy next door, isn’t it?” asks my dad as he reaches out and pats my legs, currently curled up toward my chest.
I just nod and keep my face pressed tightly in my pillow, which was still damp from all my tears.
“It’s times like these I really miss your mother. I feel like she would know what to say. She was a smart woman, your mom. I know she would’ve had the exact answer needed to make you feel better.”
“Yeah, I miss her too,” I say softly, trying not to start crying all over again.
“I guess all I do know, that she wouldn’t, is what it feels like to love an Elliot woman,” he tells me.
“Huh?” I ask, shifting my face slightly to look into his concerned eyes.
“Well, I know I don’t talk about your mom too much, and I’m sorry for that. But it’s because of my pain that I know he’ll be banging down our door soon enough. No one gets over or moves on after an Elliot girl. Not even the amazing Grayson Waters everyone in this town is always bragging about.”
“He’s special, Dad,” I tell him, choking out each word. “That’s why everyone is always talking about him. I don’t think I’ll ever get over him or find anyone like him.”
“Well, my precious girl, I think you’re forgetting how special you are. And maybe I haven’t told you enough, but everyone in this town is also talking a lot about you. How amazing you are to have become this smart, dedicated, beautiful young woman who has dealt with more than many have had to face in their entire life, and who used that pain for good. Baby, you are special. And if that boy doesn’t realize it sooner rather than later, someone else will.”
PARKER
I spent hours mulling over Dad’s words. Thinking about the ways I have dealt with the pain and grief of losing my mother, something that never really goes away. Contemplating the ways I’ve focused my anguish into a career I was passionate about and people who have showed me the joy that can be found in living. Did that make me special? Was I becoming someone else by letting the pain overwhelm me? I decided that maybe I wasn’t okay with the answers to my questions; maybe it was time I left my bedroom. Started living again. Focusing on people and my dreams for the future—dreams that didn’t include Grayson.
Stars (Penmore #1) Page 15