by Taylor Hyer
“Thanks,” Parker said softly, catching my eye.
We finished our frozen yogurt and went back to the house. We lived five minutes from the shop, so it wasn’t a far drive. Mom took the back roads that were available, and we made our way to our deserted neighborhood. It was always so quiet; so peaceful.
When we got out of the car, I quickly ran inside to grab my keys that were hanging on the hook in the mud room. As I opened the door to leave the house again, my mom was on the other side.
“Going somewhere?” she asked.
“I’m just going to take Parker somewhere,” I replied. “We won’t be long, promise.”
My mother nodded and stepped out of my way. I kissed her on the cheek as I walked by and lightly jogged to Parker, who was still standing next to my mom’s Yukon.
“Where’d you go?” she laughed.
I held up my keys and took her hand. “Want to go on an adventure?”
She followed me to my car and I opened the passenger door for her. I jogged around the front of my car and sat in the driver’s seat. I pressed my foot on the brake and pressed the “start engine” button next to my steering wheel.
“Where are we going?” Parker asked.
“My favorite place,” I replied cryptically. I pulled out of the driveway and made my way to a place I had never taken anyone before.
Parker
The air freshener that dangled from RJ’s mirror made his car smell brand new. His car was empty aside from two half-empty water bottles sitting in the cup holders between us. I was impressed with how clean RJ was; he went against the stereotypes of a dirty football player for sure.
After we were driving for a minute, RJ reached his hand toward me and set it on my thigh. I didn’t flinch, allowing his hand to rest there as we drove down the road. His hand spread across most of my thigh due to the size of his hand versus my leg. I wanted him to keep his hand there forever; it felt right. It felt okay.
“Where’s your favorite place?” I asked.
“We’ll be there soon,” RJ replied. “You’ll see.”
“It’s probably a football field,” I snickered.
“That’d be too predictable of a favorite place,” RJ laughed. “I’ll tell everyone that it’s my favorite place because it is certainly important and makes me feel at home, but I have an even more important place.”
“Let me guess,” I said, “you’ve never taken anyone there before.”
“Wow,” RJ scoffed, “you do watch too many movies.”
I chuckled. I was always laughing when I was with him. He made it so easy to feel comfortable in a situation I may have otherwise been nervous in. The soft tone of his voice during a serious conversation made me trust him. The way he said my name in regular conversation sent shivers up and down my spine. His laugh filled a room, and it made me smile even more. It didn’t hurt that his jaw looked as if an artist had sculpted it, or that his biceps looked bigger than my head. His appearance wasn’t what I was looking at, though. I was able to see past his popular persona because I used to be the same way.
I used to hide the fact that I wanted to be a writer. Everyone always thought I wanted to be a model, and though that was a great opportunity that I could have pursued, I didn’t want that to be my life. A lot of models are too skinny, and there was a time that I felt the need to be like them. I enjoyed eating a small salad for most meals, and water was my best friend to block any cravings. Standing under five feet tall already made it possible to be small, but I decided that I wanted something different.
Most modeling companies usually don’t want someone unless they are over five foot nine, but I didn’t want to be a runway model. I had a few photoshoots when I was a freshman, but they didn’t amount to much. I decided that it wasn’t practical, so I ditched the salads and learned to enjoy burgers and pizza rolls. I gained a few pounds, especially around the hips, and I had never felt more comfortable in my own body.
There was a time where I hated my body, because I felt that it was simply inviting others in, but I had learned to change that mindset. Having RJ’s hand on my thigh was helping change that mindset even more.
“What’s on your mind?” RJ asked, pulling me out of the trance I had put myself in.
“You,” I answered honestly.
“What about me?” RJ snickered, probably surprised by my response.
“It’s different with you,” I said. “It’s good. I’m so comfortable in such a short amount of time. I feel so safe.”
RJ looked at me, then quickly looked away, turning his wheel to the left as we turned onto a narrow road. “I’m sorry we let that moment in my room get so heated,” he bit his lip. “I shouldn’t move so quickly.”
“With you, fast is becoming nice,” I answered honestly.
“I really like you,” RJ said abruptly, “as more than just a friend.”
“Me too,” I agreed. I wasn’t sure if we would ever become anything more than friends, but the possibility of it suddenly excited me.
The sky consisted of different shades of orange and deep pink as the sun moved beyond the horizon. It reminded me of my mother’s paintings when I was nine. My dad was deployed in Afghanistan and when he had the chance, he would send us pictures of him and his buddies. These pictures were at different times of the day, and he would caption them: 5pm in Afghanistan; 6pm in Afghanistan, etc.
My mom would take these photos to her art studio and paint. The pictures gave her inspiration. She created different colored skies to imitate those in Afghanistan. These were hung up all over our house, reminding us of exactly where our father was. They were beautiful, and even at the age of nine, I had a newfound appreciation for the colors of the sky.
“I love the sky,” I said. “It’s different in every place, yet we’re all looking up at the same thing.”
As I said this, RJ parked his car off to the side of the road. He got out of the car and walked to my side, helping me out. We were surrounded by trees, but RJ led me to a path that brought us to a clearing. At the back of a clearing there was a waterfall that fell into a small pond. The water was crystal clear and had a few lily pads resting to one side. The waterfall flowed into the pond, making the clearing even more peaceful than it looked.
RJ held my hand and I followed him toward the waterfall. I looked around as we watched, taking in every piece of information as I could. There was a very slight breeze, moving the leaves on the trees occasionally. The sun was just barely peeking through the trees, reflecting on the water.
As we neared the waterfall, the sound of splashing water enhanced. I noticed there was a gap between the waterfall and the rocks that it was in front of. We walked into this gap and I sat in between RJ’s legs, leaning against his torso. He wrapped his arms around me, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. The waterfall was much louder now, so I was happy to listen for a moment to take it in.
RJ kissed my cheek and I held onto his arms, smiling. I leaned back to kiss him, needing to feel his soft lips again. We stayed like that for a few moments, but my neck began to hurt, so I moved to straddle RJ like in his bedroom. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him with more force than before. As our kissing intensified, so did my breathing. It felt as if all of my breath was being taken away from me, yet it was being returned by RJ as he exhaled.
RJ’s hands raced up and down my body, and he would occasionally grab my shirt and pull me even closer; not that we could really get any closer together. He would sometimes push his hands under my shirt, rubbing my bare back. I wondered if he was going to move his hands to the front of my body, but he never did. I appreciated that he kept his boundaries, and for some reason it made me want to kiss him even more.
When we came up for air, we were both breathing very heavily. Our shoulders were quickly moving up and down, and I could feel my heart racing at a rapid pace.
The sun had almost completely disappeared behind the trees, so we decided to walk back to the car. As we walked, RJ’s arm was res
ting around my shoulder, and he rubbed his thumb across my skin. I rested my head into the crevice of his chest and I inhaled, breathing in his pleasant smell.
We reached the car and as I sat in the passenger’s seat, my phone lit up. It read: 8 missed calls. 5 new messages from Dad.
“Parker, pick up the phone.”
“Parker, where are you?”
“Parker, it’s your mother, please call me back.”
I dialed my dad’s number and he picked up on the second ring. “Parker!” There was panic in his voice.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” I asked.
“You need to get to the hospital,” he said. “Where are you? Where have you been?”
“I’m with RJ, remember?” I asked. “Why do I have to go to the hospital? What’s going on? What’s wrong with Mom?”
“There’s been an accident, baby,” he replied. “Just get here.”
The line went dead, and my phone fell out of my hand onto the floor of the car. I stared down at my hands and realized they were shaking. I clasped them together, trying to slow them down. RJ reached over and put his large hand on top of mine.
“Baby?” he asked. The shock of him calling me “baby” didn’t even impact me like it would have before the conversation with my dad. “What’s wrong?”
“Will you drive me to the hospital?” I asked, not looking at him.
“Is everything okay?” RJ asked, his breath uneven.
“I don’t know yet,” I said, my voice shaking. “My dad said I needed to get there because of an accident. I missed all of his messages and calls. I can’t believe I left my phone. I missed the messages and calls…” I trailed off.
RJ quickly turned around and raced toward the hospital. I wasn’t sure where it was, but I hoped it was close by. I couldn’t find my voice to ask, either. My throat was dry, and I could feel the sweat dripping from my body.
RJ’s engine roared as he sped up on a main road, occasionally passing other cars. I stared ahead at the road, unable to pull myself away. RJ took turns quickly and when we went around corners, it felt like we might end up on two wheels. I was grateful that he felt the urgency as well, but I couldn’t express this. I was frozen in time.
A few minutes later, we pulled up to the emergency room, and RJ dropped me off where the ambulances would unload.
There were a few ambulances parked there unloading people. A few cop cars were parked to the side, their lights flashing brightly in the newly darkened night. Paramedics were running around with stretchers and bags of blood, yelling as they tried to make sense of the situation in front of them.
“Get this one to the O.R. immediately!” a man yelled. “Multiple gunshot wounds.”
“I’ll park and meet you somewhere,” RJ said. “Be safe.”
I couldn’t look at him, but I nodded and scrambled out of the car. I ran into the emergency room, panting like a tired dog. I looked around frantically, unaware of who to talk to or who to look for. Hospital workers ran by me as I spun around, looking for answers to what was happening.
A nurse on the phone yelled to a doctor, “They have another one coming in. Four minutes out!”
“That’s the tenth one in forty minutes,” I heard another nurse say. “What the hell happened there?”
A young nurse must have sensed my panic and lightly touched my shoulder. “May I help you, dear?”
I took a deep breath, “my dad called…he said there was…an accident.” I could barely force the words out.
“What’s your name, sweetie?” the nurse asked.
“Parker!” I whipped around to see my dad standing in the doorway. He was wearing a dirty blue t-shirt and ripped jeans. His eyes looked like he had aged ten years just in the few hours we were apart. Jackson appeared from behind him and ran up to me, jumping into my arms. His grasp was tight around my neck, and I squeezed him back, trying to comfort him the best I could without knowing what was going on. I nuzzled my face into Jackson’s neck; it was soaked from tears.
“Mama,” Jackson cried.
I looked up as my dad touched my back. “What’s going on?” I asked.
My father’s eyes were bloodshot and puffy. I had never seen him cry before, but the sight sent a shiver throughout my entire body. Whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t good.
“Your mother had those art pieces on display tonight at the local gallery,” Dad said. His usual burly voice was softened and hurt. His eyes began to well up. “Someone came in with a gun.”
I dropped Jackson and put my hands on my knees, unable to breathe. Just then, I felt RJ’s hand on my back, and I turned into him, burying my head into his chest. He wrapped his large arms around me, shielding me from hearing anything else. A few minutes later, I pulled away, wheezing as snot shot from my nose. RJ’s shirt was soaked from my tears.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“She’s in surgery,” my dad replied. “She was shot twice in the torso.”
I collapsed. Or at least, I was told I collapsed. I woke up with RJ’s arms around me as I sat in a waiting room chair. A nurse had a glass of water for me in her hand and she reached it out when I opened my eyes.
I hoped it was a dream. A nightmare. I hoped that when I woke up, I’d be back at that waterfall with RJ, finally feeling like I could be free again. It could never be that easy, though. They said I was only out for a minute, but I didn’t want to wake back up to reality.
The hospital smelled like old people with a hint of stale blood. Wasn’t it supposed to be fresh and clean? The hallway next to the waiting room was filled with doctors and nurses scrambling to get a grip of the situation. The waiting room was quiet until the door opened, and then you could hear the panic that was outside.
“Get me that blood!”
“I have two GSW’s to the neck and shoulder!”
“Did they get that fucker?”
I shivered and RJ moved even closer to me, holding me tightly. He kissed my forehead and rested his head on mine for a moment. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t look at anyone.
I stood up abruptly, pushing RJ off of me, and I ran to the hallway. I didn’t have a plan, but I ran to the emergency room, standing still, watching as all hands were on deck. RJ had followed me, and he tried to get me to walk back to the waiting room, but I couldn’t move.
“He went into a peaceful art gallery and tried to kill all of these people,” I said, barely audible. “He went where my mother was and opened fire.”
My feet felt like they were glued to the floor. Nothing could get them to move from their position. The weight of the world felt like it was pressing down on my shoulders. RJ reached his arm out to place it around my shoulder, but I flinched, letting him know that it wasn’t something I wanted.
“I need to be alone,” I said quickly. “You can’t be here.”
“Parker,” RJ said, obvious pain in his tone. “I’m here for you.”
“I don’t need you here.” I wasn’t even looking at him. I was still watching the mess within the emergency room, thinking about the surgeons that were trying to save my mother. “We’re not even dating, so this should just be an easy split.”
I realized that I wanted to date RJ during our dinner with his family, but I couldn’t tell him that as I was standing there, unsure of whether my mom was dead or alive.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Selfishly, I hoped he’d say that, but I was stubborn. I didn’t believe that I deserved anything good in my life, so I said, “If you weren’t distracting me, I would’ve made it here earlier. I would’ve been here for my family, not making out with you.”
“You couldn’t have prevented this,” RJ replied. True, but I could have supported my brother and dad.
“We’re moving too fast,” I snapped.
“I made sure to not move too quickly with you, Parker,” his voice was strained. “Do you know how beautiful you looked behind that waterfall tonight? Do you know how badly I would’ve loved to take your clothes off an
d see your petite body pressed up against mine? I didn’t though. I didn’t because I respect you and your boundaries. I respect that you have had a horrible past, and I only want you to be one hundred percent comfortable with me.”
“Well, now I have a horrible present too,” I said, defeated.
“And I’m just trying to help with that!” RJ had never raised his voice at me before. I knew he had a loud voice, but I had only seen him angry with his brother earlier that afternoon. His voice took me aback, and I stumbled away from him; my feet finally able to move.
I caught his eyes and they looked glossy, like he was about to cry. I didn’t know what to do, because I wasn’t supposed to be comforting him. I didn’t know how to take the comfort he was trying to give me either; it was unknown territory for me. I was used to needing to deal with my own problems, other than having my parents by my side.
But how could I possibly have my parents supporting me when one of them was dying, and the other was completely distraught because of it?
RJ
It was eight o’clock at night, and Parker was pacing back and forth in the waiting room. She was finally able to move, and now we couldn’t get her to stop. She wouldn’t eat anything. Then again, none of us wanted to either.
Parker wouldn’t talk to me, but her dad and Jackson insisted that I stayed. I watched as Parker silently protested with her father after he made this decision, but she seemed too tired and defeated to continue.
Her mom had been in surgery for almost two hours at this time, and there were no updates. Every time a doctor entered the waiting room, our head’s turned immediately, hoping for new information. Instead, a new family that was waiting was either hopeful or devastated.
I made sure to text my parents once I realized the extent of what was going on. I knew they’d see the news and I didn’t want to worry them.
8:08pm: You’ll see the news, but there was a shooting at the art gallery in town. Parker’s mom was there. At the hospital with her. Will text when I know more.