by Shey Stahl
“Call me when you get home, okay?” he said, raising his brow slightly.
I nodded, conflicting emotions raging through my body, my palms sweaty and the back of my neck prickly and cold. I leaned forward to kiss him one more time. It was soft, reassuring, and full of love. He loved me. I knew that. I loved him, he knew that…but everything changed.
Once on the plane, my body felt cold where he was pressed against me, a reminder that without him, my life is colder. As I sat there staring into the clouds, my mind replayed everything he said, his touch, and the impact it had on me. I touched my lips and wanted to feel his kiss. I touched my hands wanting to feel the rough edges of his fingers caressing my own, knowing what I felt with him could only be felt when I was truly with him. I felt my chest knowing my heart and soul could feel the loss of him. All of me wanted to forget him. I wanted to forget his lips on mine, forget his hands and the way he touched me. I wanted to forget everything in fear I wouldn’t be able to function if I remembered.
The part that didn’t want to lose him won. I wanted anything he was willing to give, even if it meant that I would be the girl waiting around for him to call. I couldn’t lose him because just the thought of it made me crazy, crazy in the sense I was willing to give up everything to be with him and that scared me. One, I had nothing to give up, and two, he had control over me. At that time, it didn’t matter if I had friends as long as I had Parker I was willing and ready to forgo everything else.
We were forced to be what we were, waiting for our situation to change again.
CHAPTER 15
Rowan Jensen
Decompress
Decompress is a technical style of ramp jumping where the rider tries to stay as low as possible over the jump so that he can get back to the ground as soon as possible.
February 4, 1998
It had been two days and I still couldn’t stop thinking about Parker. I could hear his voice and feel his touch. At least I thought I could. It had also been two days since I showered or took his sweatshirt off.
Some would think to themselves that the situation I found myself in was one that could have been changed. But really, did I want to change anything?
I thought that what we had was better than anything, and I was sure that if I didn’t give him what we had, I wouldn’t have anything. To me it was easier having those little pieces he gave me, whether it be phone calls and shout-outs on television, than to having nothing at all. Parker didn’t offer much. He didn’t have a lot to give me at that point, but it was something. All I had to do was hear that low, smooth voice and my walls crumbled. The fact of the matter was, I loved it when he called; I lived for when he called, but it wasn’t reality.
For a while I did anything I could to stay low and get back to the ground. I guess that was the only way to explain why I was doing what I was doing.
When I returned home, Parker headed to Tucson and my mom tried her hand at some motherly advice.
“Sweet cheeks, your life is sometimes like a bag of M&Ms.” She looked at me, crunching on her candy, as though I should understand exactly what she was talking about. “Sometimes you eat the red ones, sometimes you lose the green, and then you give away your yellow ones.”
I thought she would explain more, but she didn’t. She just sat there, eating her yellow M&Ms.
“What the fuck does that even mean?”
All I got was a blank stare.
I would love to say I figured out what she meant by that but I didn’t.
“Mom, that doesn’t make any sense.” I moved my head to her lap while she ran her fingers through my hair. We were on the couch watching Dirty Dancing for the second time today, both with tissues surrounding us.
“Sure it does.” I think in her own way there was some kind of meaning behind her words.
Soon my life went back to normal as if I had never went to see Parker. Between school and work, my life was on hold for late night phone calls and glimpses of him on television. I watched every race I could and stalked the internet for any mention of his name.
My favorite part about watching him on television was when they would interview him. In Texas they interviewed him prior to the race and you would have thought the President was speaking with how engrossed I was.
They caught up with him after the heat races. “I’m here with Parker O’Neil, the fastest qualifier here in the 125cc Lites. He definitely has this track dialed in, but, Parker, is this one of those tracks that you’ll be able to step up the intensity on?” Parker stood next to the sports broadcaster with his blue Yamaha hat on, a mess of chocolate hair peeking out on the sides. He looked good and that depressed me a little because he looked happy and I definitely wasn’t.
“Oh absolutely,” he said to the broadcaster, his smile bright. He moved his hand to his hat, adjusting it as he fidgeted, his other hand hanging loosely on his hip. He still wasn’t comfortable being in the spotlight. “You know that twenty lapper is gonna be tough, and it’s a good thing to have that number one starting spot, but it’s gonna be tough...but uh, the level of intensity is always high. You gotta be ready for it.”
“Well good luck tonight.”
“Thank you.” Parker looked at the camera as they panned out slightly, giving a full view. He smiled and winked at the camera. I nearly died, as dramatic as that sounds.
Amongst my television stalking, I had a box full of newspaper clippings, magazines with him on the cover, and letters that he would send me. It was like I had a Parker O’Neil shrine.
Before long, I found myself turning to comfort when I was home. Usually, this was found with Addy and Justin, both of which provided me a friendship I didn’t deserve. I was hardly there for them when they needed me. My heart was playing games I loved someone I couldn’t have and I hated her for it. I felt like my heart was using me.
I wondered, as I always did, who was in Parker’s arms now. The part that remembered our tearful goodbye told me no one was in his arms. It told me that he was waiting for me and waiting for everything to change again.
July 18, 1998
Over the spring and graduation approached, I found myself turning towards Sean.
It wasn’t that I was attracted to Sean. As far as I was concerned, Parker was the only one that I had interest in.
Conveniently, Sean was there every time I had a breakdown and comforted me in ways I needed, just being a friend to talk to though he never knew the reason behind it. I never spoke of Parker to anyone, not even Addy.
The problem? The problem was that Sean had other ideas about our friendship.
When he kissed me in late July, and I hadn’t heard from Parker in close to a month, I didn’t stop him. And when he asked me out on a date, I went with him. Sean knew all about Parker and the fact that I was still talking to him. He also knew, though he looked past this, that Parker had my heart.
Sean was a great guy but he wasn’t Parker.
So many times I wanted to tell Sean that I would never be what he wanted me to be, but I didn’t. I didn’t know how to begin the conversation and that kept me quiet.
My life was on hold, waiting on phone calls. I didn’t make college plans because I didn’t want to be tied down. What if Parker called?
I lived for those phone calls. When he wouldn’t call, I fell into depression. I was constantly searching information about him, watching for any indication he had moved on. Then when I gave up hope, he would call.
I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life after I graduated high school. I intended on going to a community college until I figured it out, but I also didn’t have a lot of motivation to even do that. Instead of making a decision, I continued working for my dad.
From the time I was old enough to understand how a business worked, I wanted to help him with the family business. I understood that I was needed. At least someone needed me so that felt good.
Life changed again when the outdoor Motocross series came to Washougal, and Justin and Addy were heading that
way to watch Parker. Sure enough, two days before the race, Parker called and asked that I come too. We talked every few weeks, and I moved past thinking I was just a booty call. It seemed more than that, so I agreed. Addy was on me about my relationship with Parker the entire drive to Washougal.
“Why don’t you just travel with him?” Addy asked, twisting in the passenger seat of Justin’s car to look back at me.
Justin met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s not a bad idea, Rowan…Parker would love that.”
The part they were forgetting was Parker hadn’t asked me to and there was no way I was going to suggest that. I didn’t want him to think I was forcing myself into his life. If he wanted me to, he would ask.
When we arrived at the track, Parker was signing autographs in the Yamaha tent along with Wesley. They both had their heads down focused on what they were doing when Justin yelled in his direction. “O’Neil!”
Parker’s head shot up, his brow furrowed as he searched the crowd for the familiar voice. When he spotted Justin, he smiled brightly, tipping his head at him. Then he saw me and his smile got a little bigger and the grin twisted. He blinked slowly, his eyes adjusting like he was memorizing me. I knew the feeling because I was doing the same.
Wesley laughed beside him, whispered something in his ear, and elbowed him as the line of fans in the tent began increase, all pushing posters and hats in their direction.
Justin chuckled and set Addy down on the ground. He had given her a piggy back so she wouldn’t get lost in the crowd. “I take it you’re the one he wants to see…not me.”
I laughed along with Addy. “Oh, babe, you’re his brother, but she gives it up to him.”
She had a point.
Being at the track around the familiar smells I always associated with Parker was like coming home. I enjoyed the outdoor Motocross as opposed to the Supercross series because it felt more like my time with Parker and how we fell in love.
There were two distinctly different styles of racing sanctioned by the AMA that made up the sport: Supercross and Motocross. Both drew different demands and different cultures. Where Supercross was glitz and glamor, Motocross was grueling and dirty.
The sixteen round Supercross series ran from January to May in football arenas with manufactured jumps, doubles, set-ups, hairpin turns, and whoops. Each race, aside from the Daytona SX, was on Saturday nights. When racing in Supercross, it paid to be smooth and consistent on the technical demanding track. Motocross was a different animal all together and required more training which resulted in Parker calling less. Now, at the track, I understood why.
The action here was wide open at higher speeds. If you messed up in either division and you would be visiting the local ER. It was dangerous but Parker shined in Motocross. It was like coming home for him.
The season for the outdoor Motocross season began the weekend after the last Supercross race and included twelve rounds that ran through September. So far in the ‘98 season, Parker had won the first seven rounds and was on his way to a perfect season. Motocross tracks, like Washougal, were carved right out of hillsides and had fewer obstacles than the Supercross track had. When you looked at your average Motocross track, you’d find steep, grueling, and fast down hills that broke into off-chamber sweeping turns with deep ruts and rocks the size of footballs, everything Parker had trained for growing up. Motocross also raced on Sunday afternoons and didn’t have the roofs stadiums had, so the riders encountered more of the unforgiving sun and inclement weather.
Another big difference was the race format. Motocross determined the winner with two thirty minute motos plus two laps. Where you placed in the second moto counted more than the first. Supercross was broken down into two qualifying sessions with four riders from each transferring into the main. Then you have two semi-finals with five riders from each transferring into the main. Then you have the last chance qualifier where two more lucky riders transfer to the twenty lap main consisting of twenty riders.
It was Saturday afternoon when we got to Washougal. Parker wasn’t racing until tomorrow. That left a little time for us to spend together. Though Addy and Justin were here, it was kind of nice to have us all together.
Jack and Michelle were there too, of course. They traveled with Parker everywhere. It was nice to know that he had them there with him.
When we went to dinner, Parker and I sat next to each other in the small booth, every part of me touching every part of him. His hand was high on my thigh when Kayla stopped by our table. Laughter broke out at something Parker said, a snide comment towards his brother, a remark I didn’t catch. Kayla cleared her throat and looked at me. “Oh, wow, haven’t seen you are in a while Rowan.”
She had seen me around. I saw her in Anaheim and then again Daytona and Houston. She was just trying to get to me.
“Where’s Anna, Parker?” Kayla asked, still focused on my reaction.
Anna was Lonnie’s daughter. She and Parker were together in some photos that I had seen, but I never read into those all that much because of she had to work closely with Parker and his obligations for the sponsor.
Kayla was trying to make me jealous.
Parker squeezed my thigh under the table and leaned in a little more quietly attempting to reassure me. “No, haven’t seen her today. Check with Wesley. He may have seen her.”
Some would think Parker was using me, a comforting face in a lifestyle of constant change. I’m not sure I always believed that, but it was easy to fall prey to that when I would see Kayla hovering around. She was quick to let me go down the path of lies and even fueled them when she told me I was simply an itch he had to scratch my last day in Washougal.
I didn’t want to believe her, but after a while it started to feel that way. He was using me. It hurt to believe that, but then again, I wasn’t any better. I had Sean back home willing to give me everything I ever wanted out of a relationship, but I barely let him touch me.
Instead of falling victim to Kayla and her web of lies, I found what I needed physically from Parker when he would call. And towards the end of his Motocross season, it was more often.
Addy tried her hardest that night to get me to ask Parker to continue out the rest of the season with him. “Parker, she just graduated and I’ve got things covered at the shop… Ro should go with you to Spring Creek Nationals.”
His hand played with his bottom lip and Parker smiled softly. He acted like he was going to say something and then I spoke. “Addy, I can’t. Besides, Parker’s has a lot on his mind. The last thing he needs is a tagalong.”
Parker didn’t say anymore after that. His demeanor the rest of the evening was different, guarded. It didn’t stop us from reconnecting once we were at the hotel.
I wasn’t sure if Parker wanted me with him all the time, though the thought of it made me giddy. He never asked.
August 15, 1998
I might not have asked in Washougal, but come round eleven of the outdoor Motocross season, I was demanding answers. I knew the situation before us wasn’t ideal and that Parker was one race away from his perfect season and first championship in the 125cc Lites Motocross series, but I still wanted answers.
“What is this?” I sighed knowing what a fucking idiot we were both being in all this
“What?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room, his arms draped over his head as if he knew how dumb this was and how badly we were hurting each other.
“Us...” I motioned around the bed of tangled sheets and scattered pillows making myself look him in the eye “...what are we doing?”
“Whatever you want it to be.” His tone was casual but his eyes were anxious. He moved and twisted to hover over me again. His left hand moved under the sheets, raising my right thigh up his hip.
“No, it’s not.” I finally said, my eyes closed when he entered me for the third time that morning. “If it was what I wanted, I wouldn’t be leaving tomorrow.”
“Stay then.” His eyes moved to mine. He w
as trying to keep the conversation light, but it wasn’t, and he knew damn well it wasn’t. There was hurt and resentment for what we were doing though we both avoided it. “You could come to Lake Elsinore next week.”
I could see this lifestyle was slowly changing him in ways I hated. When I looked into his eyes, I saw stress where I once say a bright eyed boy living his dream. Maybe it was that he was thick in a championship battle or maybe it was us. Could it be that our situation was just as stressful on him as it was on me?
“You and I both know that won’t work,” I said, hiding my face in his neck. My breath caught as he rocked against me, harsh breathing and slow moans controlled me for a moment. “I have a job back home.”
“Well...” He sat propping himself up with his elbows, his brow furrowing, but he kept his movements slow. He was silent for a moment, too silent, staring back at me almost as if he was waiting for me to say more. “I guess that’s your answer then.”
My gaze dropped from his, losing the battle, wilting under the burn of his eyes, and I knew the discussion was over as it always was. I could have stayed but then what would I have been? I would have been that girl I said I wouldn’t be. I didn’t want to be the girl that followed a boy around living his dream and giving up everything I ever wanted. But then again…I was that girl whether I wanted to admit it or not.
It didn’t stop him from taking another little piece of me with him as he headed towards round twelve in Delmont and I headed back home.
I forced smiles and conversations around me, anything to avoid the reality of the situation. I was angry for what we had become but every time that phone rang, I answered it.
September 16, 1998
By September, I had made the decision to skip out on college and work for my dad. My mom seemed to be requiring more of his attention and the shop needed me. I wasn’t about to let them down too.