by Adam Kunz
“Oh, really? And what was that?” I ask, ignoring my inner voice that’s yelling at me for not pushing away from him.
A smile shows across his face, and the sight of his picture-perfect dimples brings one to mine. “I wanted to know if you’d be willing to forgive me and possibly take a chance on us again. I’ve missed you like crazy and—”
“I’ll need some time to think about this, okay? I can’t just jump back into the thought of us together,” I reply, pulling away from his arms and standing on my own. “I’m sorry. That’s probably not what you wanted to hear.”
He grins. “Actually, the simple facts that you didn’t punch me in the face just now, and you’re considering us again, are all I need to hear,” he says while moving to be right in front of me.
I nervously brush my hair back, dodging his intent gaze. The moment he reaches up to touch my face, I interrupt the action by backing up. “So, you said my costume’s in the bathroom?”
He drops his hand to his side, clearly picking up that I need some space. “Yeah,” he answers, sounding let-down as he nods toward the bathroom door.
Entering the bathroom, I close myself in and remove the costume from the hanger that rests on the shower curtain rod. I slip into the garment after removing Parker’s shirt, and then study myself critically in the mirror. The first thing I notice is that the costume still has a lingering vomit smell. The second thing is how ridiculous I’m going to look while walking around outside in broad daylight in this getup.
Parker is standing right there to meet me when I open the bathroom door. He’s wearing a sleek, black leather jacket, and has two motorcycle helmets tucked under his arms. “Ready to go?” he asks, handing me one of them.
“You have a motorcycle?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How did you get me home last night if I was passed out?”
He laughs. “It was quite the challenge, that’s for sure.”
“I can’t believe you,” I say, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. “You risked my unconscious life on your death machine?”
“Relax. I drove my friend’s car to the party last night.”
“Oh.”
“So, do you want head out? Or not?” he asks, motioning with his thumb to the front door.
I nod. “Sure,” I respond, and then follow him out of the room.
When we reach Parker’s motorcycle, he puts on his helmet and proceeds to straddle the bike. After positioning himself, he taps the back part of the seat and waits for me to join him. This should be interesting since I’m wearing a short, puffy skirt. At least I’ll be able to hide my face behind the helmet.
I ease a leg over the bike, trying my damnedest not to flash possible onlookers. I have to adjust a bit to find a comfortable position with all the dress’s tulle getting in the way. Putting a little space between Parker and me, I grip the handle on the back seat rest to keep myself stable. This is my first time ever riding on one of these things, so I’m not quite sure what to expect.
Parker turns his head to look at me and flips up the helmet’s face shield. “You might want to hang on tight,” he says, and I can tell he’s grinning by the look in his eyes.
He starts the ignition and I feel the entire motorcycle rumble between my legs. The vibration feels both awkward and exhilarating at the same time. The vehicle suddenly rocks forward, sending me crashing into Parker’s firm back. I hear the clank of our helmets bumping into each other before I lock my arms around him in a tight grip, to keep from falling off.
There was definitely nothing that could’ve prepared me for the sensation of riding on a motorcycle. The closest thing I can compare it to is being on a roller coaster, but with no restraints. With Parker driving, though, I feel safe the entire time because he’s patient and knows that I’m not much of a thrill-seeker. I won’t lie…I could really get used to this.
Chapter Eight
When we pull up to the outskirts of the forest where the party took place, there are three Holden Ridge deputy cars sitting there.
“Shit! If any of those guys see me, there’s no way it’s not getting back to my dad,” I say, feeling dejected after flipping up my helmet’s visor.
“Well, if they find your car, won’t that be just as bad?” Parker asks.
Why does he have to make sense all the time? It’s kind of annoying…cute, but annoying.
“You’re right. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and head in to get my car. Stay here and wait for me, okay?”
“Sure, I’ll be here,” he replies, as I go to get off the motorcycle.
“Thanks again…for everything,” I say with a slim smile while handing him the helmet.
He removes his helmet and rests it in his lap before taking the one from me. “My pleasure,” he answers with that damn gorgeous grin of his. That grin could melt chocolate—just sayin’. “Oh, and Dani?”
“Yeah?”
“Hey, about the whole us thing—”
“We’ll talk about us later, all right?” I answer.
He nods. “Okay.”
Making my way through the woods, I have yet to come into contact with anyone. As I reach the empty lot where all the cars were parked, I see one of the deputies filling out paperwork next to mine. Which, by the way, is the only one left in the lot. Awesome.
“Well, there’s no time like the present, I guess,” I say under my breath as I leave the security of the trees and move toward the deputy. Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone hurrying toward me. I’m afraid to look over once he calls out my name.
“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, young lady!” My father’s voice pierces through me to my core, and I feel my stomach launch into my throat like I was just on a roller coaster that went backward. “What the hell were you doing here last night? And why are you dressed like that?”
So, if I didn’t already know he was pissed with me, the “hell” in his last question definitely cemented that fact. He’s not that big on cursing, and, yes, “hell” is a curse word to my dad.
“Uh…well…what exactly can I say right now that wouldn’t result in my permanent grounding?” I ask, not wanting to know his answer.
“Not much, but you can start with the truth.”
“The truth?”
He nods while crossing his arms over his chest, staring at me sternly. He’s holding his facial features so tight that his face looks like it’s made of stone.
For some reason, I’m suddenly infected with the worst case of word vomit I’ve ever had. So much for keeping secrets. “Well, the truth is that I did know there was a party going on here last night. I did lie about studying with Alex and Rory. I actually made the flyer for this party. I got drunk, passed out, and woke up in a guy’s bed, but nothing happened though. And that’s why my car is the only…one…here.” I notice that his face falls more and more as I keep talking, so I decide to shut up because I’m saying things I really don’t need to confess, but I guess in my mind I was on a roll. One thing I am certain of, though: I’m totally effed.
He lets out a low growling sound. Huh, he’s never made that sound before. He raises his index finger and I see flames—yes, flames—spring up in his eyes as he points at me. I know he wants to yell, but then he just shakes his head and throws up his hands in what looks like frustration.
“I’m not even sure I can process all of this right now. Do you realize what you’ve done?” he asks, sounding so disappointed in me. There’s only one thing that’s worse than a parent being angry with you, and that’s one being disappointed with you.
“I’m so sorry, Dad. I was stupid, you’re right—”
“Samson!” my dad calls out, cutting me off. He waves over the deputy standing next to my car. “Dani, Samson will take you home, and you better believe we’ll be talking about your punishment later. And I want no more discussion about this. I’ve got work to do here.”
“Why are you here?” I ask, irritated that he interrupted me.
“It
’s official business. You know I can’t discuss it with you,” he replies. “Samson, please drive my daughter home.”
Samson grabs for my arm to escort me, but I shake free of his grip. “Did something happen here other than the party?” I ask, more irked than before.
Samson tries to grab my arm again, but I dodge him. My father sends me a look I’ve never seen before, and it worries me. He usually tells me everything that happens, but for some reason, he doesn’t want to talk about this. I know it’s more than just him being upset with me.
“Sheriff, we found something,” I hear someone in the distance cry out.
“Samson, please,” he says, gesturing to me with tired eyes.
“Samson, if you touch me again, you’re going to pull back a nub, I swear,” I grind out, and he backs off.
“Dani, listen to me when I say that I have business to attend to. You shouldn’t be here right now, okay?”
“Dad, what happened?” I ask, and then notice the deputy who just called out to Dad approaching us with something in his hands. It’s my picnic basket. “Hey, that’s mine. Why didn’t Janice take it with her when she left?”
“Janice? Janice was here with you last night?” my dad asks. He sounds desperate. “This is very important, Dani. Was Janice here?”
“Did something happen to her?”
“Was she here?” he asks again, but more pointedly this time.
“Yeah…I brought her here. Why?”
My father releases a heavy breath. His eyes fix on me and his facial expression changes to one of apprehension.
“Her mom called the station last night, saying Janice didn’t come home after she went to the library.”
“She’s probably with Gunnar—” I stop suddenly, realizing I may have just messed up by saying his name.
“Gunnar. You mean the Benson boy?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I reply, feeling shitty for having such a big mouth.
“Samson, make a pass by the Benson place and check out my daughter’s story,” he orders. When Samson walks away, my dad turns back to me. “I want you to go home, Dani.”
“But—”
“Dani, I don’t want to hear it, all right? Just go home and stay there.”
“I have to be at work by four,” I argue, which lands me on the receiving end of one serious glare.
“I suggest you call your boss and let her know you’ll not be coming in today,” he replies and points to my car. “Now get going.”
Frustrated, I storm over to my car and slam the door as I get in it. Peeling out of the lot, I exit the forest and see that Parker’s gone.
“Typical,” I murmur while shaking my head.
The drive home seems like it takes forever. Thoughts of Parker keep irritatingly seeping into my brain. I should be pissed at him—again—but I find that he’s all I can think about at the moment. That’s what happens with guys like Parker—they intoxicate you. I mean, he did help me out last night and take care of me this morning. That’s got to count for something, right?
“Stop being stupid, Dani. Once a selfish jerk, always a selfish jerk,” I declare, and blast the radio to drown out any further Parker thoughts.
Turning onto my street, I lower the music’s volume when I see Janice’s mom standing out in front of her house, looking haggard. Her head rises to me as I get closer and she waves me down to stop. Hattie hasn’t talked to me since she warned me to stay away from Janice, so this should be interesting. There’s a hint of desperation in her eyes and I know exactly what this conversation is going to be about as I slow down in front of her.
“Dani, have you seen Janice?” she asks. Her eyes never leave mine.
I feel the truth creeping up my throat and about to exit my mouth, but I swallow hard, not allowing it to. I can’t confess that I took Janice to a party and that she might be over at a boy’s house as we speak.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Oliver, but I haven’t,” I reply, but feel like the worst person ever right after. But should I, though? Janice clearly wanted to get out of the house and have a good time because her mom has been such a nightmare to live with. Plus, it wasn’t like Hattie was that nice to me the last time we actually spoke.
The expression on her face worsens and it breaks my heart, even though there’s still a twinge of happiness for Janice being able to get away from her.
“Well, if you do see her, could you please tell her to come home right away? She’s been gone since last night, and this is just so unlike her,” she says while wringing her hands.
“I will, Mrs. Oliver.”
“Thank you,” she replies, patting my arm that’s resting on the frame of the car door.
I watch as she makes her way back to the front porch and takes a seat in the old-fashioned white rocking chair that sits there.
“Don’t worry. Janice will be home soon,” I say under my breath, though I’m not sure I’m convincing her…or myself.
Chapter Nine
I finally feel clean after my much-needed second shower. Though Parker did wash my costume, it still reeked of vomit, which had me gagging every time I got a whiff of it. Speaking of Parker, he’s the last thing on my mind as I sit here on the window seat, staring out at Janice’s window. I’ve still yet to see the light come on in her room, and it’s starting to get late.
It’s been several hours since I last talked to my dad, and the fact that he hasn’t come home yet has me worried. I really hope Janice is okay.
I look down at the walkie-talkie in my hand and then back across the side yard. Pressing the button, I say, “Janice? Are you there?” I get no response.
A knock sounds at my bedroom door.
“Come in,” I say, knowing full well it’s my father on the other side. I’m not looking forward to this conversation at all.
The door opens and he stands there with a bewildered look on his face. He doesn’t come into the room, but just looks at me, as though he doesn’t know how to say what he’s about to.
“Dani, we need to talk,” he stammers, looking down at the ground and then back at me.
“About what?” I reply. I’m still a little pissed by the way he treated me earlier, though I hope he has some good news about Janice.
He takes a seat on the edge of my bed, facing me. “What were you doing at that party?”
“I was invited by Gunnar, so I went,” I state. “So, did you get Janice back to the safety of her crazy mother?”
He exhales heavily. “No. In fact, when Janice wasn’t with the Benson boy, we took him in for questioning based on your statement.”
“Wait, what? You took Gunnar to the station? And Janice wasn’t with him?” He shakes his head. “Did he say anything?”
“I can’t tell you, and you know that.”
“Come on. If it involves my friends, I want to know.”
“This may actually become a full-fledged missing person’s case, and there’s a procedure I have to follow, regardless of whether they’re your friends,” he replies.
“She can’t be missing,” I say.
“Technically, she isn’t yet, but if we don’t find any trace of her soon…well, you know the rest.” He places his hand on my shoulder as he stands up.
When I look up at him, we share worried expressions. “If she’s gone, it’s all my fault,” I say, dodging his stare.
“Don’t blame yourself, Dani. It’s not like you forced her to go with you, right?”
“No, I didn’t force her, but I did do pretty much everything else.”
He sighs. “Do you have any idea where she could be? Or who she might be with?”
“I have no idea,” I reply, a hopeless feeling coming over me. “Last night was kind of a blur. And this morning was just…confusing.”
“Yeah, what about this whole thing with you waking up in a boy’s bed?” he inquires in a stern tone.
“Like I said, nothing happened. I promise.”
“That still doesn’t mean I’m okay with the idea of you sleep
ing in a boy’s bed,” he says, giving me the disapproving parental look.
“I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, okay?”
“Damn right, it won’t happen again. And if I find out whose bed you woke up in, he’s going to be looking down the barrel of my revolver.”
“Seriously, Dad. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he replies. He turns and heads back toward the door. “I feel like I don’t even know my own daughter right now. Sneaking off to parties, waking up in boys’ beds, drinking. Are you doing drugs too?”
“No, I’m not doing drugs,” I respond.
“Well, what else have you lied to me about? Did this all start after your mom left?”
“No. Surprise Dad, not everything is about Mom. Even though lately you seem to think so,” I feel a twinge of guilt, but he needs to hear it.
“That’s not fair, Dani. You don’t get to turn this around and blame me for why you’re lying. I know I haven’t been here as much as I probably should, but that doesn’t give you the right to use my recent actions against me. We’re both going through hard times right now.” He shakes his head and turns his eyes up the ceiling, almost like he’s asking the man upstairs for some guidance. After a quiet moment, he asks, “Why’d you feel you had to lie?”
“Everybody lies once in a while, Dad. But it doesn’t necessarily change the person they are.”
That statement really resonates with me. Unfortunately, my lies have changed who I am. My father has no idea I’m no longer a virgin, nor does he know that I’ve been drinking since I was fifteen. This party is just the tip of the iceberg of my lies, but I could never tell him that. He already has enough on his plate with what he already knows now, and with Mom.
