Parker's Island

by Kimberly Schwartzmiller

  “I don’t know. I really hadn’t thought much about it.”

  “Why? You’re so smart. You could go anywhere you want. If its money you’re worried about, I’m sure you can get scholarships, if you don’t already have some. And if not, there are always student loans,” I kept babbling. I was completely unable to stop. “I mean, I’m sure you can work something out. You could work part time…just enough to…” I finally stopped when I noticed he was grinning at me. “What?” I finally asked.

  “I was just waiting for you to take a breath.” More laughing.

  I knew I was turning bright red because I could actually feel it running from my chest, up my neck and into my cheeks. “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m just not sure if or where I’m going yet. I’d like to, it’s just…complicated.”

  “Oh.” Brilliant reply, I thought to myself.

  “So, where are you going?”

  “Um….I’ve put in applications at a few colleges and got a few letters of acceptance, but I’m not really sure either.” I didn’t want to commit to anything until I knew where he was going, just in case I may actually have a shot at attending the same school.

  “Everyone take out a clean sheet of paper, please,” Mr. Phelps, one of our more unusual teachers said, trying to get the class started.

  “I would like each one of you to write one nice thing about the person sitting next to you.”

  Oh no, this can’t be happening. There is no way that this is going to end well for me. What am I going to say that won’t make me sound like a love-sick teenager, or worse?! I thought with impending doom.

  I took out a piece of paper and stared at it for about five minutes, trying to figure out what to say without giving anything away, yet also wanting to be really nice at the same time.

  My hand was shaking as I scratched out a few lines, crossing them out one by one as fast as I wrote them.

  Logan always turns his homework in on time.

  Logan is the smartest guy I know.

  Logan has a beautiful smile.

  Logan has the most beautiful eyes.

  Logan is perfect.

  Logan, I love you.

  I finally crunched up the paper and got out a new piece.

  Logan is an exceptional student.

  “There, that’s not only true, but it’s not too incriminating,” I thought.

  I looked up to find him studying me from across the desk. He probably thought I was crazy. His paper was sitting in front of him. I could see that he’d written on it, but I couldn’t actually read it.

  “Everyone finished?” Mr. Phelps asked.

  There were murmurs and nods around the room. I sat there frozen, wondering what he could have possibly written about me.

  “Please exchange papers with your partners,” Mr. Phelps said.

  I took a deep breath and slid my paper across the table to him, and he handed me his.

  I watched him while he read my perfunctory statement. His facial features never changed, and then he murmured a quick “thanks.”

  I looked down and my jaw dropped as I read what he wrote about me.

  Delaney brightens up even the cloudiest of days.

  “Could I possibly feel any worse?” I thought as I whispered, “Thank you.”

  “Just telling it like it is,” he said.

  “Logan, I…” I didn’t get to apologize for the generic statement I wrote because Mr. Phelps interrupted me and said, “I hope everyone learned something about themselves, today” and then we were told to open our books to chapter 13.

  I knew I had learned something about myself. I was a coward. I had the perfect opportunity to tell Logan how I felt about him and I blew it!

  I refused a ride home from Molly after school, feigning that I needed the exercise and that I’d see her in the morning.

  I locked myself in my room for the entire night, complaining of a headache, only to have my mother checking in on me and bringing me soup, aspirin or a cold wash cloth all night.

  “Are you sure you’re alright, Delaney? I’ve never seen you like this. You never get headaches that keep you locked up all night.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. I just have a headache,” I groaned, rolling over in bed.

  “Are you sure that’s all it is? You’ve been very distant lately, like something is really bothering you. Is there something you need to tell me?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Is there a boy involved?” she asked, rubbing my back.

  “Oh, why can’t I just have a headache?”

  “Okay, okay, but if you want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

  “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

  She turned off my light and shut my door, finally leaving me alone in the dark to think. “Why didn’t I write something wonderful on that stupid piece of paper?” I berated myself for about 30 minutes before I fell into a restless sleep.

  The next morning I walked to school thinking about what to say to Logan. Nothing great came to mind. I was at a loss for words, and as I sat down next to him in class, I decided I had to say something. “Logan, um I….I just wanted to thank you for what you wrote about me yesterday.”

  “It was hardly Shakespeare,” he shrugged.

  “It was very nice, much nicer than I deserved.”

  “That’s not true. You do brighten things up.”

  “If I’m so bright, then why couldn’t I come up with something better to write about you?”

  “It did look like you were having a difficult time, but then again, I’m not a very interesting subject,” he grinned, and then opened up his notebook.

  “That’s not true. You’re the most interesting person I know and I had lots of really nice things to say about you, but when I put them down on paper, they all looked…stupid,” I sighed.

  “Delaney, it was a stupid assignment. It’s no big deal.”

  Chad paraded into the room then, spouting off more plans for the senior blow out.

  “I wish he’d just shut up about that stupid party,” I said angrily, irritated at myself and Chad.

  Logan laughed at my obvious irritation. His smile made me completely forget my anger. “How can anyone be that perfect?” I thought, while watching him out of the corner of my eye.

  It was April 17, that last day of class before spring break. The last few months had been pretty much uneventful. Logan and I did actually talk a bit more now, about this or that, but nothing of any great importance. I could never get him to tell me anything about himself, though. He was still such a mystery. I wanted so badly to tell him how I felt about him, but didn’t know where to begin.

  I kept thinking that I should just ask him out, but the reverberating no’s he had given his other earlier suitors kept echoing in my head. Why would he even consider going out with me when he turned down Hailey, Chelsea, Amber, etc., etc., etc.?

  When the final bell rang, I looked up to see Logan staring at me like he had something to say.

  When he didn’t say anything, I asked him if he had anything exciting planned for the break.

  “No, not really. How about you?”

  “Um, nothing exciting. We’re supposed to see a movie, you know, a few of us are going as a group. Maybe you’d like to see it with us?” Oh my God, I actually did it, well sort of, anyway.

  “Thanks, but I’m not much into movies. Have a nice break.” He stood up, looking at me once again like he wanted to say something, but then he just walked away.

  I watched him go, feeling completely crushed. I put my head down on my desk, trying to control the tears that were inevitable, when Molly came waltzing through the door. “Hey, you ready to go? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just have another headache,” I lied.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She obviously didn’t believe me, but didn’t push it. “Well, let’s go. I have all kinds of fun planned for this week. I thought we’d go see the movie tomorr…what?” she as
ked when she noticed the tears welling up in my eyes at the mere mention of the movie. “Are you okay?”

  “I told you, I have a headache. I think it’s a migraine. The lights in here are killing me. Can we just go, please?” I said, while trying desperately to hold back the tears.

  “Oh, okay, let’s go,” she said.

  “So, what were you and Logan talking about all by yourselves after class?” Molly asked, unaware that he was the reason I was feigning another headache.

  “Nothing.”

  “It must have been something to get you this upset,” she said, obviously more intuitive than I gave her credit for.

  “He didn’t…I’m not upset. I told you, I have a headache!”

  “Fine, don’t tell me. But, you better pull yourself together and make that more believable by the time you get home or your mother is going to be all over you.”

  “Oh no, she’s never going to buy another headache,” I moaned.

  “Neither do I, by the way.”

  “Look, can you just take me home…please?” I said with pleading eyes.

  Molly backed her car out of the space and slowly made her way toward the exit of the school parking lot. “Hmmm, what do you know? Logan’s staring at you…again. He doesn’t look real happy, either. Maybe he has a headache, too,” she said, stung by my obvious avoidance of her questions.

  “How would I know if Logan has a headache?”

  “You tell me. You were the one talking to him and now he’s staring right at you, like he’s feeling guilty about something.”

  I glanced over and our eyes met. He didn’t smile or wave, he just stood there, still looking like he had something he wanted to tell me, but couldn’t.

  We drove to my house in silence. Molly was very angry with me for not telling her why I was so upset, but I was completely crushed and couldn’t even find the words to try to explain.

  “Molly, I’m sorry. I want to tell you, honestly, and I will, but right now I just can’t.” The tears were welling up once again.

  “Okay. Call me when you feel like talking. But right now you better pull yourself together. Your mom isn’t going to let you off the hook as easy as I did,” she said, while handing me a few napkins from her glove compartment.

  “Do I look that bad?”

  “No…well yeah, actually, you look like you just lost the love of your life.”

  I immediately started crying again, sobbing as the words sunk in.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Delaney. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t really think he meant that much to you.”

  “Well, he does. So now you know,” I sobbed some more.

  “So what happened?” she asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing. I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”

  “What did he do?” she asked, looking more confused than before.

  “Nothing, he didn’t do anything. I better go in now. I don’t see my mom’s car. Maybe I can go pull myself together before she gets home.”

  “Delaney, I don’t understand. Please tell me what happened.” she asked, pressing me for details.

  I laid my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, “I did what you said. I asked him out; well sort of. And he…he turned me down,” I said, sniffling.

  “You asked him out? No way!” she said, obviously impressed. “Wait, what do you mean, sort of?”

  “I invited him to the movies with us, you know as a friend. But he said he’s not really into movies,” I was sobbing again.

  “Oh, good grief! So, you didn’t actually ask him out on a date. You just invited him to tag along to the movies with all of us. Delaney, that doesn’t even count.”

  “Still, if he was interested in me at all, he’d have agreed to come. Obviously he’s not interested.”

  “Maybe he would rather be alone with you. He’s obviously not much into group activities. You should ask him out again, so that he’ll know it would just be the two of you.”

  “NO WAY! That was hard enough! I made the first move and was shot down. I’m done!”

  “Delaney, I think you should try again. I know you don’t believe me, but he’s ALWAYS watching you. Maybe he was just taken off guard. But, you won’t know unless you try again. Give him another chance.”

  “No, I can’t go through this again. It’s done!”

  “Fine, wallow in your own self-pity, but there’s your mom, so pull yourself together. We’re all supposed to meet at 4:30 tomorrow for the movie. Don’t you dare stand me up.”

  “You know, I’m not sure I’m up to it.” Mentioning the movie almost brought back the stalled tears.

  “Oh no, you’re not backing out of this. You promised. Besides, Carrie, Jim, Beth and Jed are all meeting us there.”

  “What are we going to see?” I asked, not really caring.

  “That new Sarah Webber film,” she said, rather vaguely.

  “Oh. Hey, isn’t that rated R?” I asked.

  “Is it? I don’t think so,” she said, looking guilty.

  “You’re as bad a liar as I am. You know it’s rated R, and you know I don’t go see movies like that.”

  “Like what, a movie without a Disney character? Come on Delaney, please? You’re almost 18 years old!”

  “Fine, I don’t even care. I better go inside now,” I said, feeling another wave of tears approaching.

  “See you tomorrow,” she said and drove away before I had the chance to change my mind.

  Once inside, I ran into the bathroom and tried to fix my red, swollen eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. It was a huge undertaking, but by the time I washed my face, and added some eye drops, I decided I was ready to face my family.

  I got busy setting the table and doing a few of my chores and was able to sit down to dinner with my family and made what I thought were all the appropriate responses. I even managed to choke down a few bites of dinner, hoping no one noticed the very small portion of food I had taken. Once dinner was done and the dishes washed, dried and put away, I finally made it back to my room. I closed the door, leaning against it, and soon found myself curled up in a ball with the flood gates wide open.

  I knew I shouldn’t feel like this, but I couldn’t help it. All I knew was that there were only a few weeks of school left. I was graduating and it felt like my life was over. I should be happy. I was done with high school and moving on with my life…but all I could think about was Logan, and how he wouldn’t be in it.

  I couldn’t seem to control my sobbing, and whether she heard me or just sensed my agony, my mother quietly knocked on my door. “Delaney, honey, may I come in?”

  “Um, I’m really tired, Mom,” I said, through sniffles.

  “Honey, maybe I can help. I was young once, too.”

  Oh, good grief. Not the ‘I was young once too’ speech, I thought.

  “Please, honey?” she asked again when I didn’t respond.

  “Come in,” I finally said, rolling over to hide my tear-streaked face.

  She sat down next to me and stroked my back. “Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  My mother, being a very nurturing person came prepared with a box of tissues and a cold wash cloth for my sore eyes. She let me cry for a few more minutes before she finally said, “He must be very special for you to be this upset.”

  I stopped crying, wiped my eyes and mumbled, “It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

  “Of course it does. Whatever it is, we can work it out.”

  “You can’t fix this for me, Mom.”

  I watched my mom close her eyes, take a deep breath, and then she asked, “Delaney, are you…pregnant?”

  I was stunned. I couldn’t even offer a response to that insane question. I may not know everything about procreation, but I knew it took more than just sitting next to a guy to get pregnant. She took my stunned silence as confirmation of her greatest fear.

  “It will be okay. It’s going to be very difficult telling your father. He’s going to be very disappo
inted…not in you, dear, just the…circumstances.”

  I could see all of the things she was planning for me. The wheels were turning so fast in her head that she didn’t even blink. I seriously thought about letting her stew for a while, but then realized she really did want to help, even if it meant sending me away to hide this very un-Christian act from this very Christian home. An un-wed, pregnant teenage daughter – oh, the scandal!

  “Mom!!! I’m NOT pregnant!” I said a little too harshly.

  “Are you sure?”

  Did she just ask me if I was sure that I WASN’T pregnant? Oh good Lord, was this torture EVER going to end? “Yes, I’m sure!!!!” I snapped.

  “Oh, well then…wonderful,” she said, looking like she was once again going to be able to face my father’s congregation with her head held high.

  “Then I don’t understand. What could possibly have you this upset?” she asked incredulously, as if my being pregnant could be the only real problem I could possibly have.

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine, really,” I said, anger mixed in with my misery now.

  “It must be something.”

  “I had a bad day at school, that’s all.”

  “So there isn’t a boy involved?”

  “No, there’s no one,” I lied. I never lied to my mother. I had avoided some of her questions occasionally, but I had never actually lied to her face before. If I wasn’t so angry with her, I probably would have felt guilty, but I just wanted this conversation to end so I could cry myself to sleep.

  “Mom, I’m really tired. I just want to go sleep now, okay?”

  “I wish you would talk to me.”

  “We are talking. I told you, I just had a very bad day at school.”

  “Okay. If you want to talk about it, I’ll be downstairs with Dad.”

  “Fine!” I said, my anger reaching the surface.

  Molly called me the next morning to remind me that we had plans for the movie that afternoon. “I didn’t forget.”

  “Good thing. You really could use some fun in your life,” Molly said, still sensing my anguish.

  “Yeah, I guess I could. What time are you picking me up and when will I be home?”