by Taylor Hyer
“Thank you, dear,” my mom replied.
“Mom sure knows how to cook steak,” Landon said as he was chewing a large bite.
“Landon Mitchell,” Mom said with a dangerous sternness, “do not talk with your mouth full. How many times do I have to tell you heathens?”
“I’ve never heard anyone use that word before,” Parker giggled. “I’ll have to use that with Jackson.”
“Does he play football?” my dad asked, finally saying something. Of course, it was about football.
“He likes soccer right now,” Parker replied. “He’s a bit too small for football. We’re hoping he gets our dad’s genes, but right now he’s stuck with our mom’s like me.”
“He’s young,” Landon spoke up. “He’ll grow. RJ was a peanut for years!”
This was a lie, and he knew it. He was just being a smartass. I itched my face with my middle finger, hoping he’d notice that I was flipping him off. Our mom never appreciated swearing, so a subtle hint to Landon couldn’t hurt.
“Oh, come on, Lan,” Leighton said. “You know RJ was as fat as they come.”
“That was you, jackass,” I snapped, immediately regretting it as my mother shot me a look as if to say: “Not in my house”.
I looked away from her, unable to look into her dark eyes. She had the best “disappointed mom” look I’d ever seen. Especially with company, we were held to the standard of excellence in our house. I didn’t want to show Parker how angry my brothers made me at times, but I guess it was important for her to see every side of me early on. I wasn’t much of an angry person, but my brothers knew how to bring out the worst in me.
When dinner was finished, I took Parker’s plate and brought it into the kitchen. My mom was standing at the sink, washing dishes as she always did. She had a dish towel hanging over her shoulder, and her hands were covered in soap and water as she took the plates from me.
“Do you want any help?” I asked her.
“No thanks, dear,” she replied. “Go have fun with Parker.”
I took Parker back upstairs to my room so we could finish the movie. We moved back into the position that we were in before, and I pressed play on the remote.
“What time do you have to be home?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Parker laughed. “I’ll text my dad.”
She leaned away from me and picked her phone up from the nightstand next to the bed. She quickly sent a message and turned back to me. I stared into her eyes as she smiled and said, “what?”
I shook my head, “nothing.”
“Well, you’re looking at me weirdly,” she said.
“It’s just my face,” I laughed. “Thanks for bringing it up.”
“It’s a nice face,” Parker said quietly. Her compliments were always quiet, as if she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to say them to me or not. It was as if her thoughts were leaving her head, but she tried to suppress them as much as possible.
I leaned in, unsure of how this would go the second time around. I didn’t have much time to think about it though, because before I knew it, Parker was leaning in too.
Parker
Our lips met, and my stomach began to flutter. I could feel my heart rate rising, and I knew my skin was no longer cold to the touch. RJ moved his hand up and held the side of my face. His hands were big and warm, and though he was strong, his touch was gentle.
Our lips separated slightly, then met again with more force than the first time. Separated. Met again. After we separated for good, I tried to catch my breath, feeling my lungs grasp for the air that they were just deprived of. I looked away and bit my lip, trying not to show the struggle I was enduring.
RJ moved his arm toward me and touched my face. He gently pulled my face back toward him, causing me to look into his eyes. He took a deep breath and said, “Thank you.”
“For what?” I asked.
“Coming over today,” he replied. “Giving me a chance. Just, being you.”
“I had some sound advice,” I said, thinking back to the conversation with my dad from a week before.
RJ’s hand lingered on my face. “You’re warmer than before.”
“Wonder why,” I winked, letting myself open up even more to him. I had just kissed the guy for God’s sake, why not be open and care-free with him?
“There’s just something about you that I can’t put my finger on.”
I frowned, “What? Why?”
“Not in a bad way,” RJ replied. “You give me this weird, yet wonderful, feeling. I have never looked at someone before and felt pure joy. I can actually feel my heart hurt while I look at you, yet it’s the best feeling ever. I also can’t believe I’m telling you any of this. I’ve never felt this before, certainly not this quickly after meeting someone.”
“You’ve had plenty of girls, don’t lie,” I replied. I was playing it off cool, but inside, I was screaming. It was like a love scene from a cheesy romance film. I love cheesy romance films.
“You’ve been so honest with me, so I’ll be honest with you too,” RJ said. “I’m scared you’ll look at me differently, though.”
“Not to act like I know exactly what your life is about,” I laughed, “but I can tell your life is a lot like the movies I watch. You’re the popular football player, and girls fawn all over you. You eat it up and allow it to happen. Your father doesn’t want you having a girlfriend because sports need to be your life, so you mess around with people without the commitment to please him but also yourself.”
RJ looked at me with one eyebrow raised and said, “I guess you aren’t wrong.”
“I know I’m not,” I said, still chuckling. “People like to say that movies aren’t real, but how can you create a character like that without knowing one in real life? Sure, wizards and witches aren’t real, but that’s not my point.”
“I hope you don’t see me any differently,” RJ said.
“I knew it from that first day in gym class, RJ,” I said. His hand was no longer on my face, but instead it was holding both of my hands. “I’ve decided to trust you, so as long as you don’t let me down, my thoughts of you will stay positive. You’ve already changed how I initially felt about you. Actions speak louder than words, right?”
RJ didn’t say anything, so I leaned in and kissed him quickly, wrapping my arms around his neck. As I pulled away, he reached forward and grabbed my hips, pulling me onto his lap. I moved so my legs would straddle his body, letting all prior pain and worries go.
We kissed passionately for a few minutes. He kept his hands tightly on my waist, occasionally moving one hand up and down my back. I kept my arms around his neck, holding tighter during the deeper kisses.
RJ’s lips were soft, and being in his arms felt safe. It was the first time in a few years that I had felt at home. A sudden panic coursed through my body as I imagined moving away again. Live in the moment, I told myself. You’re fine.
I knew it was possible that we could move at any time, but before this move, my father said it would be the last; at least until I graduated. At the time, I didn’t care either way. Moving had become part of my life, and it didn’t matter to me anymore. After the experience with him, I enjoyed the idea of moving away. I liked that no one knew who I was, and that there wasn’t time for someone to take advantage of me.
With RJ, though, it felt different. Moving didn’t seem like an exciting idea anymore. I wanted to stay right where I was; in his arms, kissing him passionately.
We heard someone coming up the stairs, so I quickly moved from RJ’s lap to sit next to him on the bed. We stared at the TV as a loud knock came from the other side of the bedroom door. “Come in,” RJ said, not allowing his eyes to move from the screen.
I turned as one of the twins entered RJ’s bedroom. I still couldn’t tell them apart, though I knew they were wearing different clothes. I knew one of them was a bit bigger than the other, but I wasn’t sure which one yet.
“Mom wants to know if you want to grab ice cre
am,” the brother said.
RJ turned and spoke to his brother, “Dad will never let us get ice cream.”
“Well, frozen yogurt I should say,” the twin laughed.
RJ rolled his eyes, “Of course.”
I looked back and forth from RJ to his brother as they spoke. RJ and his brothers looked so similar, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think RJ was some fraternal triplet instead of a younger brother.
RJ moved toward the edge of the bed and slowly slid off from it. He turned to me and asked, “Do you want to go?”
“Sure,” I nodded.
“I’m still going to put candy on my frozen yogurt,” RJ’s brother laughed.
“I won’t tell Dad,” RJ replied.
“Just like I won’t tell Dad what’s been going on in here. Smells like sex in here bro.”
I stopped breathing for a moment, waiting for someone else to say something. I wanted to speak and say: “We weren’t having sex,” but what good would that do? Was RJ going to say something? Why wasn’t he saying something? The twin must have been kidding, but how was I to know?
“Eat all the candy you want, fucker,” RJ said, staring at his brother with a deep sense of hatred. His brown eyes looked darker when he was angry, as if they could possibly change with his mood.
RJ stayed back as his brother left the room. He wrapped his arm around my waist and whispered, “I’m sorry about him. He was just kidding.”
I didn’t want to tell him that a joke like that was probably a lot more serious to me than it was to him. Though I technically had sex, I liked to pretend that I didn’t. Jokes about sex were painful because it brought up the past, and the idea of ever being with someone again struck fear within me; throughout the deepest parts of my body.
I didn’t realize that RJ had said something else until he bent down slightly and looked into my eyes, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. His eyes were lighter than before, the way they were when he was calm.
“What?” I asked, pulling myself out of the trance I had just been encompassed in.
“You may not think that I know you, but I can tell when you’re stuck in your own head a bit,” RJ said softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
RJ looked down at me and raised his eyebrows, showing that he in no way believed me. “What’s wrong?” he repeated.
I realized that it was pointless to try and lie to him; he somehow knew me so well already. I decided to be honest, allowing RJ to be in my thoughts, too.
“The sex joke,” I said quietly.
It took RJ a second to realize what I meant. Once he understood, he said, “fuck,” and stormed out of his room.
I followed him closely behind as he stormed down the stairs. His feet were heavy on the floor, echoing throughout the high ceilings of the entryway. He took a sharp right at the bottom of the stairs and made his way to a door. He opened it quickly and slammed it behind him, not even waiting for me. I opened the door after it closed, and noticed we were in the garage. RJ’s brother was standing outside of a large black SUV, and RJ marched right up to him.
The way that RJ was acting, I assumed he was about to yell at his brother. Instead, he faced his brother and spoke in a quiet and stern tone. “Watch what you say next time.”
“What’s the big deal?” his brother responded. “We know it’s a joke. There’s no way that girl would ever sleep with you.”
RJ’s brother laughed but was stopped abruptly as he was shoved backward. “Shut up,” RJ demanded.
Once RJ’s brother realized what had just happened, he shoved his brother back. RJ staggered backward but kept his balance. Once he was steady on both feet, RJ went in for a punch on his brother, but was blocked and then punched in the gut.
As this was unfolding, RJ’s mom walked out into the garage, stopping immediately as she noticed what was happening. She took a moment, then ran toward two of her sons.
She grabbed RJ and pulled him backward right before he could get another punch in on his brother. “What is going on here?” she questioned.
She kept hold of RJ’s arm, her knuckles becoming lighter as she squeezed her son in anger.
“Mom, he just came at me!” RJ’s brother said.
“Leighton David,” RJ’s mother’s voice kept rising. She turned to RJ, still grabbing onto his arm. “You, speak.”
RJ spoke softly. He reminded me of a dog with its tail between its legs, cowering away from the problem. “He made a joke that he shouldn’t have made about Parker and me, Ma.”
“Hear that, Mom?” Leighton said. “A joke!”
“You don’t get it!” RJ yelled, trying to pull away from his mother, but failing.
I walked closer to RJ and touched his other arm. “It’s fine, really,” I said, letting my hand linger on his arm. His body was warm to the touch; warmer than it was before.
RJ leaned down toward me and whispered, “You were upset.”
I leaned even closer toward RJ, ensuring that no one else heard me. “If you make it a big deal, then they’ll have to know why.”
It again took RJ a moment to realize what I was saying. I didn’t want his family to know about my past, especially not so soon. They didn’t know much about me as it was, so I didn’t want their first impression of me to be negative. Not everyone took the information of my past as gracefully as RJ had.
Many people hear “rape” and assume the worst. They think of drunk sorority girls asking for trouble. Most people tended to blame the victim more often than not. I even blamed myself for a small period of time.
Maybe if my dress wasn’t so revealing…
Maybe if I didn’t have that extra tequila shot…
RJ was great about the information, but I couldn’t take any chances with his family. Not yet.
RJ
I screwed up. I let my anger come out in front of Parker, and I almost let her secret out to my family.
Her cold hand stayed on my arm, cooling me off. My mother finally let go of my other arm, leaving finger markings behind. I looked down at her softly and apologized. I turned to Leighton and said, “Sorry, just let my temper go a bit there.”
“Let’s just get some yogurt, yeah?” my mom asked.
We walked back into the house to put our shoes on. In the heat of the moment, I stormed out of the house without even thinking about my shoes. My socks had a thin layer of dust on the bottom of them, so I wiped them quickly in the mud room, hoping my mother wouldn’t notice. She hated when we walked around outside without shoes on because of the mess we always trudged in. I hated shoes, but what Mama wanted, she got it.
Parker toppled her frozen yogurt with a multitude of candies. “Sour candy is my favorite,” she said as she poured more Sour Patch Kids onto the small amount of yogurt she had. Once the little creatures were added to her bowl, you couldn’t tell whether she actually had yogurt hidden under there or not.
She snuck a candy in her mouth before we went to weigh our bowls. She squeezed her cheeks together as she sucked the sour bits from the candy. She showed no indication that the piece was sour at all. I enjoyed sour candy, but it always made one of my eyes twitch.
We sat at a large table outside of the frozen yogurt shop. Our dad didn’t join us for yogurt, so Leighton, Landon, and I got a few pieces of candy. During football season, he was constantly pushing us to be our best. We didn’t mind the extra motivation, but we were rarely able to have fun. Candy or sweets weren’t really an option unless we were away from our father. Our mom had no problem spoiling us, though.
I watched as Parker slowly ate her frozen yogurt. She laughed when someone spoke, filling the silence that would occasionally set upon us. I heard her hum to a song that softly played out of the speaker above our head. She smiled as she did this, and I couldn’t help but stare and smile with her.
Parker listened intently whenever someone spoke. Her eyes never strayed from whoever was talking, and she always looked interested in what they had to say.
“What’s your mom like?” my mom asked, bringing the conversation to Parker.
“She’s tiny like me,” Parker giggled. “She’s quiet, which is weird since her art is always so loud.”
“How can art be loud?” Leighton asked.
“It has a lot of colors,” Parker replied. “It’s kind of in your face, but in the best way possible.”
Leighton nodded, accepting the information that he received.
“I’d love to meet her someday,” my mom said. “She sounds lovely. Artists are some of my favorite people; so creatively inclined. I bet her conversations are just wonderful.”
“Is that where you get your creativity from?” I asked, looking at Parker.
Her cheeks flushed, “What do you mean?”
“Your writing,” I said.
“Oh,” Parker smiled, “right. I forgot you knew about that.”
I remembered back to the day when I saw Parker writing in her notebook. She was so invested that she couldn’t even hear anyone near her. She was slumped over that worn notebook and held onto it like her life depended on it. I still wondered what she was writing about.
“What do you write about?” my mom asked, reading my mind.
“A lot of random things really,” Parker replied. She twisted a piece of her hair around her finger and continued. “I like to write short stories. The journal I was writing in the time that RJ is referencing is more of a diary I guess. I always write in it during the first week at a new school. It’s just something I’ve always done.”
“Are you any good?” Landon asked bluntly.
“Landon, you don’t just ask that of someone’s work,” my mother scolded.
“I don’t know,” Parker replied. “I’ve never really shown anyone my work. It’s just something that passes the time.”
“I bet you’re great at it,” I chimed in.
“Suck up,” Leighton coughed under his breath. I glared at him, trying to warn him to back off.