by AE Woodward
My hope slowly dissipates as his hand drops from mine, and his eyes fall to the ground. Our moment is over. I let out a sigh, before turning away from him and walking toward the house, realizing something I should already have learned a long time ago.
Some things never change.
Parker McKenzie is one of them.
I wake up early, feeling hopeful despite the emotional past few days. There is just so much going on within me that there are times I just feel like lying on my bed and counting my ceiling tiles, even though I already know there are 102.
I take a quick shower before slipping into my cutoffs, a tank top, and my Hunter boots. Knowing that there will still be a night chill in the air, I throw on a sweatshirt. It’s still dark out and I have to run my hands along the wall to make sure I don’t bump into anything. I can’t turn any lights on because I don’t want to wake my parents. This morning is all about me and I’m going to do it alone, without an audience.
Once outside, I’m hit with the morning chill, and the air smells damp but fresh. Dew collects on my boots as I make my way to the stable. I can hear the horses blowing through their noses inside. They’re quiet because they’re just waking up, but they’ll be noisy soon enough, expecting their breakfast of oats and apples to be served. I have to hurry, because Pop will be making his rounds to feed them soon. He hates it when they get impatient and bray. I make my way down to the end, where Onyx is.
“Hey, girl,” I say without thinking as I run my hand up her muzzle. The words make my throat burn and it tickles a little bit. Onyx blows out her nose and I wonder if she’s as taken aback by the sound of my voice as I am. It feels strange, using my voice again. She pushes up against me as if urging me to continue. Swallowing, I attempt to dampen the fire from my throat. “You like me talking to you?”
She whinnies and knocks up against her stall door.
I smile and look over my shoulder. I’d hate for someone to catch me out here talking to her. Turning my attention back to her, my eyes catch sight of the saddle hanging on the wall.
My saddle.
The very one that Tommy and Parker had gotten me for my Sweet Sixteen. Its leather is just as bright and beautiful as the day they gave it to me. I only used it for two years, and I took care of it because it had been my most prized possession.
Without hesitation, I reach up and grab it off the hook, before leading Onyx out of the stall. Lightly, I trace the intricate patterns that are carved into the leather with my finger. It takes me a few minutes to remember how to hook everything up, but before I know it, my feet are in the stirrups and I’m lifting myself into place.
Onyx prances a bit as I sit down, seemingly anxious about me being on her. Knowing exactly how it feels to be out of your comfort zone, I reach down and rub her sides. Her muscles twitch under my palm.
“It’s all right, girl,” I whisper. “I’m nervous too.”
She stills. The only movement comes from the deep breaths she’s taking. I focus in on the rhythm of her sides, her ribcage heaving with each throaty breath. Without meaning to, I find myself sucking air with her, hoping that she can sense that we’re in this together. Right now, in this moment, it’s just about us. We’re both going to forget our troubled pasts, all the bad shit that has gone wrong in our lives and made us weak. We’re weak no more. We are strong, and together we can start moving forward.
“We can do this, Onyx.”
I gently tap her side with my heel and she takes a few tentative steps, pulls on the reins and snorts.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I tap her again, urging her forward. She does as I ask and slowly trots out of the stable and into the yard. It’s a little bit brighter than it was when I first came out and the sun was peeking over the edge of the horizon, but it was still dark. Evidentially, the darkness makes Onyx even more nervous and she pulls on the reins again, indicating that she wants us to move back into the stalls.
I reach up and scratch between her ears. “It’s all right, girl. This is going to feel good. I promise.”
I kick her a little harder on both sides and immediately she’s running. It’s sloppy at first, and she stumbles a couple of times in the darkness, but she eventually finds her stride and once she does, she picks up speed. She’s fast. The wind kicks up her mane, and my ponytail bounces against my back. My heart is beating faster, and a smile slowly spreads across my face.
I’m not sure how far we’ve gone when I finally decide to pull on her reins. She skids to a stop and takes a few heavy deep breaths. Just like me, she’s out of shape, but we can get it back in no time.
We stand together, looking out over the horizon and watch the sun peek out from the edge of the earth. It takes my breath away, and I know without a doubt that it is the dawn of a new day for me.
I’ve got to keep on living in spite of my mistakes.
In spite of my heartache, I must keep moving forward.
And I will.
It’s what they would have wanted.
Once the sun is up, I direct Onyx back in the direction we came from. This time I get her to slowly gallop instead of running because I don’t want her to overdo it. This is the first real burst of exercise in a while for both of us, and I know we’ll be sore come evening.
We come into sight of the house and I see that I have an audience. Everyone—and I mean everyone—is out on the porch, waiting for us. Tommy and Parker are smiling because they know this is huge, but Mom and Pop have a concerned look on their faces. They’re still worried about me, and I guess they should be. I haven’t given them much reason to trust, or have faith in me yet.
“Nice ride?” Tommy asks, meeting me in the yard just as I hop down from Onyx.
In a gesture reminiscent of our childhood, he takes the reins from me and I nod in response, a slight grin on my face. It had been more than nice. The ride had brought things deep within me back to life, letting me feel again.
I want to tell them all about it but I’m not ready to talk. Not yet. Talking to Onyx is one thing, but opening up to everyone else is scary beyond belief.
“It’s nice to see you up on a horse again, beauty,” Pop says slowly as he walks toward me “Parker, why don’t you go ahead and put Onyx back for us?”
Parker stalks toward where we’ve all gathered and does as my father asks, taking the reigns from Tommy. Pop puts his arm around my shoulder and kisses my cheek.
“Seeing you up there this morning was the best gift you could have ever given us, Katie. Watching you riding her, I realized something. Even though you may not be all right now, you’re going to be okay.”
My phone is ringing. I fumble around my nightstand, praying that I find it before it wakes Mom and Pop. I’ve only just gotten the darn thing—I had begged and pleaded for months—so the last thing I needed was to give them a reason to take it away from me. A call at 2 a.m. would certainly put the nail in my coffin.
“Yeah,” I whisper into the receiver.
“Katie, we’re bombed,” Tommy slurs. “Come get us.”
Before I can argue or offer an alternative, the line goes dead. I sit up. Damn them and their irresponsibility. I’m growing tired of being their sober driver. I was having such a good sleep too.
I pull on some yoga pants and a sweatshirt before climbing out my bedroom window. Tommy taught me how to sneak out when I was just a freshman, and I was thankful for that on nights like this when I had to go save their asses. Twenty-three years old, full-fledged adults, but I wonder when they are going to start acting like it.
Parker always parks his truck at the end of our ridiculously long driveway on nights like this, just in case. That way I can make a clean escape without my parents being any the wiser. Parker and Tommy plan their evenings meticulously, thinking of every possible thing they can do in order to prevent them getting in trouble. They are so good at this deception stuff that it scares me.
I’m still half asleep when I finally arrive at the house party. They left th
e address written down on a piece of paper in Parker’s truck, just in case. There was still quite a crowd mingling outside as I put the truck into park. Not wanting to get out, I searched for the guys from my seat in the truck but of course, they were nowhere to be found.
Cussing, I turn off the ignition and make my way into the house. Taking in the sights of the drunken girls carelessly hanging off the equally drunk guys, I’m filled with disgust. I just don’t understand how they think this is fun. I’m lost in my thoughts when Parker spins me around.
“Katie!” he yells, even though I’m right next to him, and the alcohol on his breath assaults my nostrils, but he seems surprisingly with it.
“Where’s Tommy?” I ask, trying to hide my annoyance. I just want to get back to my hot date with my pillow and comforter.
“Ah, shit. He left with that girl…” Parker’s eyes shift around, a telltale sign that he’s seriously thinking. “Ahh, shit, umm, what’s her name?”
“Lexi?” I question, slightly annoyed with Parker’s lack of memory.
“Yeah, yeah!” he yells excitedly. “That’s her—Lexi!”
“So do you need a ride or what?” I say, anxious to get the hell out of dodge. He casually throws his arm around my neck, knowing fully what he is doing to me. This had been the status quo with Parker since I turned fifteen. I was the rabbit and he was the carrot tied to my head, always just out of reach.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind…”
“Course not,” I smile as I start walking to the truck, Parker following closely by my side.
He stumbles toward the truck in silence. I carefully help him ease himself up into the cab and he mutters a quick thank you before I drive to the apartment above the garage that his father gave him. The truck is quiet and a glance across to see that he’s passed. I drive the rest of the way listening to his shallow breathing.
The journey doesn’t take long and I quietly pulled up to the curb outside of his house, throwing the truck into park. How am I going to get him inside without Tommy? I’m struggling to come up with ideas when he stirs and his eyelids flutter open.
Our eyes lock. Moments pass, and with each second my heart beast faster, my stomach flutters, and blood rushes to every single one of my extremities.
“Fuck, Katie,” he mutters, breaking eye contact.
I’m unsure what is happening, but my stomach won’t stop turning over itself. The more the tension thickens, the more confused I become. Looking out the window, he rubs his temples with his fingers, as though concentrating hard. “When did this happen?” he questions as his eyes find mine again.
“When did what happen?”
“When did I get so wrapped up in you?”
Parker’s hand finds my cheek and his calloused fingers rub against my soft skin. My heart leaps at the contact and I curse it for being such a sell-out.
Parker has touched me before, we’ve even shared a secret kiss, but there is something in his eyes tonight. Something that leads me to believe that he’s been thinking about me differently for a while now. Something letting me know that this is uncharted territory.
“You’re all I think about anymore, Katie.”
The rasp in his voice has butterflies fluttering in my stomach. This could be it. The moment that I have dreamed of for more years than I can remember. I was just twelve years old when I decided I wanted to be Mrs. Parker McKenzie, and even after all these years, I still feel the same.
Leaning forward, his forehead presses against mine. His eyes smolder.
How was he so sober, when just minutes ago he was too drunk to drive himself home? My thoughts are short-lived and I completely stop caring as his lips crash onto mine. Every nerve ending on every inch of my skin sparks to life, and for the first time in a long time I feel something. Something deep within me is igniting. I feel… alive.
This isn’t the first time Parker has kissed me, but this kiss.
This kiss is different.
This is the kiss I have been waiting for forever.
His hands grip the back of my head, pulling me closer, as though he needs me to breathe. It takes me a moment to snap out of my trance and respond but eventually my hands start to explore his body. I touch his abdomen, lightly grazing the hem of his shirt. I’m so nervous and inexperienced and completely out of my league, but as the kiss goes on I find myself feeling a little more daring and I slide my hand under his shirt. His skin is hot and his muscles contract under my touch.
He reaches across my body and tears the keys from the ignition, tossing them to the floor. I unbuckle my seatbelt and crawl into his lap, throwing my leg over him.
I gasp as his mouth moves to my neck at the same time as his hands firmly grasp my backside. He pauses and says, “I shouldn’t do this.”
“I want you to,” I plead, running my fingers through his hair. “Lets make it count.”
He smiles. “You’re such a dork.“
I sigh. It’s our thing, telling the other to “make it count.” It has been ever since we watched, and laughed our way through “Titanic.” I had the VHS set and we must have watched it a million times with Tommy. It really is a great movie, a little over the top at times, but great nonetheless.
But those words have meaning for us.
Those words are the key.
He needs no further permission and immediately pushes me to my back, in the cab of his truck.
“Katie… Katie…”
“Katie!”
Real life always has to come crashing back in. Stevenson’s voice cuts through my daydream and suddenly I’m back on my parent’s couch with my yellow legal pad, listening to my shrink talk at me, in the vain hope that he will awaken the shadow of my former self that is trapped in this body.
I hate it, but I know that Stevenson is slowly winning the battle. I used to be able to keep the memories from creeping in. Now, every time he says something to me, it stirs up my past.
The past I’ve been trying so hard to forget.
Between his endless prodding, and Parker’s daily presence, I don’t stand a chance in hell.
“Did you hear me, Katie?” Stevenson questions again.
Annoyed, I pick up my pen.
No.
“I think it’s about time you tell me about Parker.”
No.
“Katie, I already know that he’s somehow involved in why things are the way they are for you. Somehow he’s part of the reason why you feel like you need to punish yourself. Perhaps it’s guilt… whatever, I need to know. I want to help you get over this. It’s time.”
That horrible feeling called defeat creeps in. I know he won’t let up until I give him something, so I decide a little information won’t hurt. I quickly scratch a few broken sentences on my pad. He reads them, a thoughtful and pained look on his face.
“Parker led you to believe he might love you. You feel like he preyed on your naive girlish emotions in order to win some sort of bet with himself?” Stevenson repeats my notes back to me, but as a question, rather than a statement.
It sounded much better in my head, but that pretty much sums it up. There you have it—Parker and I, in a nutshell.
“I think you should try talking to Parker. Let him know how you feel, how you felt. It sounds like a simple misunderstanding—”
Before he can finish I scribble my not-so-kind answer to him on the notepad, tossing it in his lap as I leave the room. As far as I’m concerned, our session is over.
Besides, I have horses to feed and run.
The screen door crashes against the wall as I fling it open and walk out through the porch. Squinting, I shield my eyes from the summer sun and I take in the sights of the busy farm. In the distance I see Tommy cleaning one of the barns, while Pop feeds the chickens, and I find myself wondering what time it is. Mostly because I’m wondering when Parker might make an appearance to complete his nightly duties.
Jesus Christ.
I pull at my hair, infuriated with myself. I need to be worry
ing about myself and mourning my family, not worrying about Parker and his schedule. Being back here does nothing for my mentality, just like when I was a kid. I’ve been here for a while, and I feel more out of touch with reality than I had before. I need to grieve… alone. Everyone should just leave me to it.
But that’s not going to happen.
I need a change of scenery, to attempt to separate myself from the girl I was and the woman I am now. But I have nowhere else to go. I’m not capable of taking care of myself. I’m nothing but a hindrance. A ticking time bomb.
As I walk down the front steps, my eye catches the old wooden tree swing. I remember I could hardly contain my excitement watching Pop tell Tommy and Parker how to put it together when they were hanging it in that old oak. Just a broken, seven-year-old lost soul, Parker had a hold on me, even way back then. The feelings I had for him weren’t the typical crush kind. I cared deeply for him, and watching him work on something for me made my heart happy.
Slowly, not putting all my weight on it at once, I ease myself onto the seat of the swing, surprised at how well it has held up. Zoe would have loved it here. I cringe, knowing that I had deprived her of something so special and precious for my own selfish reasons. My parents and Tommy had visited us in Manchester frequently. They had to if they were going to see us, because they knew full well that I wouldn’t return home. When I left, I vowed never to return, and I hadn’t…
Until now.
Using the balls of my feet, I rock the swing slowly back and forth, watching the day pass me by. After a time, Mom walks Stevenson to his car and they glance my way for a brief moment before he leaves. Soon after, Pop and Tommy take off in the truck, more than likely to fetch supplies from the feed store downtown.
A cool breeze arrives with the late afternoon. My body relaxes, and I rest my head on the old rope as I continue to swing. I’m lost in my thoughts when I hear a faint rumble in the distance. I quickly stand to look down the dirt road in hopes of catching a glimpse of what is making the racket.
