by Taylor Hyer
I was becoming the typical girl in the ridiculous romantic-comedies. It sure was comedic. What was happening? I needed my dad to be stationed somewhere else, ASAP.
At 6:10 that evening, I heard the doorbell ring. Jackson jumped up from the couch and ran to the front door. I slowly got up from my spot on the couch and smoothed out my skirt. I began to walk toward the door and stopped as it opened.
“Hello,” I heard RJ say. “You must be Jackson.”
“That’s me!” Jackson exclaimed. “You’re the football player.”
“Yes, I am,” RJ laughed. “You like football?”
“I’m more of a soccer guy,” Jackson replied, “but football is cool too.”
I walked around the corner and looked at Jackson and RJ. “Jack, let him in,” I said.
Jackson moved out of the way to let RJ walk in the door. RJ took his shoes off and stood in the entryway. I walked closer to him. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I replied. I turned toward Jackson. “Hey, buddy, Mama is downstairs. Why don’t you go hangout with her?”
Jackson turned and ran to the basement door. I heard him lightly trot down the stairs yelling “Mama! Mama!”
“He’s cute,” RJ said, facing me.
“Yeah, he’s great,” I laughed.
“Oh, sorry I’m late by the way,” RJ said softly. “Practice ended late, and then traffic wasn’t the best. I would’ve called you, but—”
“But I didn’t give you my number,” I said, laughing at how dumb I was. “Sorry about that.”
I reached my hand out, hoping he’d know that I was asking for his phone. He reached in his front left pocket of his khaki shorts and pulled it out. The newest iPhone. Of course, he was popular and rich, why wouldn’t he be? I grabbed the phone from him, our fingers touching ever so slightly. I pulled away quickly, going into his contacts and creating a new one. I typed a single letter “P” into my contact name, and then put my number in.
“Just P?” RJ asked as I handed his phone back to him.
“Just RJ?” I retaliated, smiling slightly.
“Touché,” RJ laughed with me. His laugh was soft, something you wouldn’t expect from a guy like him. His laughter never filled a room, almost like he didn’t actually need to be the center of attention all the time.
“So,” I said, unsure of what to say next, “Do you want anything to eat?”
“That would be awesome,” RJ replied. “I didn’t eat after practice because I rushed to get here.”
“Guess you could’ve taken your time since you were late anyway.” RJ looked nervous, but I gave him a playful shove and turned toward the kitchen to let him know I was kidding. “Let’s go,” I laughed.
I looked in the freezer to see what I could make. Of course, the first thing I saw were pizza rolls. I noticed a note attached and pulled the bag out of the freezer. The note read: Make me, in poorly etched writing. Jackson. I laughed out loud, walking to the basement door.
“Jackson!” I yelled down the stairs. “I found your note you dope.”
He immediately appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the widest smile spread across his face. He pitter-pattered up the stairs as quickly as he could, his arms swinging beside him. I got out of the doorway, knowing he’d stop for nothing as he made a beeline to the kitchen. I followed behind him and he sat down at the counter.
Jackson’s eyebrows furrowed closer to his eyes as he looked around. “Where the heck are they?” he asked, sniffing the air for a scent of pizza.
“I haven’t made them,” I said. “We need to ask our guest what he prefers.”
I had never seen a stare so demanding and desperate before than the one Jackson gave RJ. I couldn’t tell if RJ was uncomfortable or not, because he kept a straight face. He stared Jackson right in the eyes and said, “I love pizza rolls.”
The mood was immediately changed to exhilaration as Jackson threw his hand in the air for a high five. RJ met Jackson’s hand, and the slap echoed across the room. I rolled my eyes, preheating the toaster oven. “You’re going to turn into a pizza roll,” I said, pouring the rest of the bag onto the pan.
After the pizza rolls were done, I plated them, and told Jackson to eat in the living room. “We can’t do that!” Jackson said, gasping as if he had just seen a horrific accident.
“Eat on the floor and I won’t tell,” I said, lifting my index finger to my lips signifying “shhh”.
Jackson hopped off the kitchen stool and ran into the living room. He turned the TV on, and I turned toward RJ. “We can go upstairs if you want.”
Wait, did I just say he could go into my room? Well, not exactly, but that’s what was upstairs, and he must’ve known that, right? Maybe I was thinking too much into it. I needed to take a deep breath and relax.
“Wherever you want,” RJ replied, holding both plates of pizza rolls. “I’ll follow you.”
I grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator and we walked upstairs. I turned left and walked to the end of the hallway. My room was originally supposed to be the spare bedroom above the garage, but my parents let me take it instead. It was bigger and more secluded. We walked into the room and I left my door open, knowing if my dad came home he would feel better about me having a boy in there. I wasn’t sure he’d believe I would have a boy in my room, though; it had never happened before.
I had two bean bag chairs in my room, so I sat in one and gestured for RJ to sit in the other. As I sat down, he handed me a plate of pizza rolls, and I traded him for a bottle of water. He sat down, and we were silent for a moment. I moved around in my seat, worried that this conversation was about to get too personal. I told him I’d let him know me, but I was regretting it with every second that passed. We quietly chewed our food, and I waited for him to say something. He didn’t. It was my job to start the conversation, but that was never really my strength.
“So,” I started.
“So,” RJ repeated.
“My life…” I trailed off immediately.
RJ moved his bean bag closer to mine to where our feet were almost touching. He looked me in the eyes. “I’m not forcing you to tell me anything about you, but I know that I want to know you. There’s something about you that makes me question anything I’d ever thought about. You’re not trying to be in the spotlight like all the other new girls. You don’t push yourself onto anyone, and you certainly don’t act like someone you’re not. I just want to know why I’m so curious about you,” he said.
“Maybe it’s because you’re used to knowing everyone already,” I replied quickly, not realizing I barely gave him time to finish. “Everyone pushes themselves on you, so you already know their intentions. You’re so curious about me because I haven’t tried any of that, and you have no idea why. You’re not used to people not fawning over you.”
“That’s not fair,” RJ said. “I don’t ask for it.”
“You don’t have to,” I said. I guess we were going for honesty that day. “You know you’re the most popular guy in school. You know you’ll always get what or who you want, even without trying too hard or really realizing it. You know your friends idolize you, and you know that all girls want to be with you; everyone knows it.”
I wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from, but it felt good to speak my mind. I couldn’t tell what RJ was thinking. He had an emotionless face, one that almost scared me because I couldn’t see through it.
“I don’t know how this conversation became about me,” RJ finally said.
“Because people like you are the reason I am who I am,” I blurted out. I covered my mouth, not meaning to actually tell him the whole truth. Too late. “Shit…”
RJ raised an eyebrow in confusion. His almond eyes investigated mine with such intent, with such passion. Everything in my body started to ache. I felt like I was going to throw up. I stood up and began to pace, taking large sips of water as I walked. RJ stood up and walked toward me. He lightly grabbed one of my hands, then lifted my chin up with hi
s open hand. Please don’t kiss me. Please don’t kiss me.
“Let’s sit,” he said quietly. “Let’s talk.”
How could he be so calm all the time? He was always in the spotlight, yet he perfected every aspect of his existence. I was being spoken to for more than five minutes and I felt like I was going to implode. I wanted to cry; I felt myself shaking as if I were going to, but I held myself together and sat down. RJ followed my lead and moved his bean bag even closer to mine. The bags were touching, and the side of our legs touched.
“I’ve moved a lot,” I said.
“I know,” he replied.
“I’ve moved so much that I’ve become numb to it,” I said, quieter than I was before. “I used to be popular, you know? Our dad had a stable residence for six years, and I had a steady place in life. I was the queen of the middle school, which doesn’t seem like much, but when high school came around, even the seniors wanted to be my friend. I had made a name for myself in those six years, and I found myself high and mighty. I was never going to be brought down from the pedestal I stood upon.”
I took a breath, letting that sink in. RJ didn’t speak, allowing me to take time to catch my breath.
I continued, “Then, at the end of freshman year, Dad had to move. I refused at first, as much as a fifteen-year-old girl can refuse something of that degree. I kicked and I screamed, and I swore that I hated my dad and his entire career. I was a fifteen-year-old brat swearing at her father, who had done two tours overseas to fight for mine and everyone else’s lives. I was pathetic.”
“You were upset,” RJ interjected.
“Nonetheless, I was a spoiled brat,” I laughed at the irony. “I was popular. I had so many friends and people who loved me, but I didn’t have a choice. We left a few weeks later and made the cross-country trip to our new home.
“On my first day of sophomore year, I told myself that I’d immediately find the popular crowd and I’d imbed myself with that group. I was going to continue my popularity so all of my friends back home could see that I was okay. I walked into that school with so much confidence and with my head held high. I immediately found the best-looking guy in school, and I made it my mission to be his girlfriend.”
I could see RJ’s jaw unhinge a bit. He was in shock that I used to be like the girls that obsessed over him. I still couldn’t believe I was sharing my life story with him. I was horrified because I promised myself I’d never live in that moment again. Sometimes you must open up, though, and for some reason, the helpless romantic in me wanted to spill my guts to the guy I swore I’d never love.
“So, I found him,” I continued. “He was, of course, the star quarterback. He had dirty blonde hair with deep brown eyes. He was a little shorter than you and had a slightly more narrow frame. I found him on day one; it’s hard to miss the popular guys. I walked right up to him and I introduced myself. Immediately, we hit it off. We talked for hours every day after his football practice, and he brought me to the best parties on the weekends. I swore I was falling in love with him just after the first few weeks.
“We spent all of our time together. When football practice was done, he’d show up at my house, or we’d meet at the ice cream shop to sit and eat ice cream for hours. It was heaven, truly. I was popular again, and everything was right in the world. Until it wasn’t.”
I stopped to take another breath, building up the courage to continue.
I told RJ about the college party we went to. He had an in like that. I told RJ about the navy blue dress I wore. It hugged my hips tightly, and reached mid-thigh. I told him about how we played beer pong, and I got significantly drunker as we were challenged by more teams. After five games, I was ready to go dance.
I told RJ about how I walked toward the backyard to dance on the patio, but he took me by the hand and pulled me upstairs. I followed him, laughing as we stumbled up the stairs. We turned into a bedroom, but I tried to pull away as he kissed me. I knew I was too drunk to do anything. I was also a virgin, but I wasn’t going to tell RJ that.
I told RJ how he kissed me with too much force to pull away from. I tried, but I wasn’t strong enough. He kept kissing me as he moved his hands across my body. They moved to my chest as I tried to squirm away. As he kissed me, I searched for air, inhaling deeply whenever I got the chance to. I tried to yell, but every time I did, he put one hand over my mouth. His grip was too strong. His hands slowly moved down to the button on my shorts.
I couldn’t stop him.
I couldn’t stop him...
RJ
Parker was crying now. Tears were creeping out of her eyes. She didn’t move. She didn’t wipe the tears from her eyes. I wanted to, but I didn’t want her to pull away. She was vulnerable at that moment, and I let her cry for a minute in silence.
Once she built up the courage to speak again, I moved closer to her. We were on one bean bag now, and I wrapped my arm around her. She didn’t pull away, but she flinched as I reached around her. I moved slowly, making sure she knew it was safe. Once my arm was around her, Parker tilted her head and rested it on my shoulder.
“It isn’t your fault,” I said softly as I leaned my head down on hers.
“I tried to tell people what happened,” Parker said. “I told our friends what he had done, but no one believed me. No one. Then there were rumors going around that I had tried to frame him for something he hadn’t done. People kept calling me “slut” and “whore” and “worthless,” and they told me that it was my fault for dressing so provocatively. I was now the joke of the entire school, and that’s when I decided I’d never open up to anyone again. He knew my whole life story and look where that got me. I promised myself I’d never talk to the popular guy again, because for some reason, they were always the ones hurting girls. The movies prove it, too.”
She spoke rapidly, her words almost connecting without a pause between them.
“This isn’t a movie,” I said.
“But my life had become one,” she replied. “My life was just a big joke, and I was hoping that it’d end soon.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing what she was about to say.
“I wanted it to end,” Parker said, sniffling into my shoulder. “I wanted my life to end.”
“Did you…” I started. “Did you try?”
“No,” she said softly. “My mom is big on talking out your problems, so we went to therapy. She knew something was up, and I’ve always been honest with her, so I told her everything. We moved shortly after. I had a fresh start and I spent it being quiet and avoiding everything. I didn’t want it to happen again. That feeling. The pain.”
She lifted her head from my shoulder and looked into my eyes. Her deep blue eyes were glistening from her tears. The skin under her eyes was red and puffy from the crying. She forced a smile, probably trying her best to lighten the mood.
“I’m so sorry,” Parker said to me, not losing eye contact.
“Sorry?” I asked quickly, shocked at the apology I just received. “What the hell are you sorry for?”
“I barely know you,” she said. “I just told you about my biggest, darkest secret. I’m so pathetic.”
“I told you that I wanted to know you,” I said. She looked away, but I lightly touched her chin and pushed it up so she would look into my eyes again. “I want to know you,” I repeated myself, slowly this time for emphasis.
Everything I had thought about Parker was completely off. Her reasoning behind her quiet demeanor now made so much more sense. She had been hurt in ways I couldn’t even imagine. It also killed me that she didn’t want to talk to me because I reminded her of “him”. I don’t know who “he” was, but if I had ever found out, I’d kill him. I swore I’d kill him.
“Thanks for listening,” Parker said as she stood up. We heard the garage door open as the room shook a bit. She held her hand out to me. I grabbed it and stood up.
“Time to go home?” I asked.
“It’s probably almost time for dinner,�
�� Parker smiled, not letting go of my hand until we reached the top of the stairs.
I smiled as I watched her walk down the stairs ahead of me. She had such a petite body, but there were certain curves around her hips that really accentuated her figure. Her long blonde hair moved slowly across her back as she walked. She walked lightly across her tiled floor, moving almost silently.
We moved to the kitchen where a tall man was standing with Jackson, his back turned to us. Parker’s father. He looked like the typical marine. His hair was cut short and his body was all muscle. He was wearing a white t-shirt, showing a large emblem tattoo on his right arm. I assumed it had something to do with the military, but I wasn’t sure.
“Hi Dad,” Parker said, almost louder than I had ever heard her speak.
Her dad turned away from Jackson to look at us. “Oh, hello boy I don’t know,” he said as he looked from me to Parker in disbelief.
“Daddy, that’s RJ!” Jackson said. “He loves pizza rolls so don’t worry, he’s cool.”
Parker giggled beside me. God, her laugh was so pure and perfect. I looked over at her and smiled, then looked back at her father.
“Hi, sir,” I said, reaching out my hand. “I’m RJ, as Jackson here mentioned.”
He met my hand with a firm grasp, potentially squeezing too hard to make sure I knew he was stronger than me. I made sure to make direct eye contact with him as we shook hands, knowing that was just as important as a proper handshake.
“Hi RJ,” her dad said, still grabbing my hand, “I’m Kenton, most people call me Kenny, but you can call me Mr. Williams.”
“Dad!” Parker said, pulling our hands apart.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I said, trying to keep the mood light.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Jackson asked, appearing next to me.