by Adam Kunz
“Little white lies. Those don’t change the person you are. Yours are very different. How am I supposed to trust you with anything now?” he answers.
I take a few moments to think it over. I sigh when I can’t seem to find an answer fitting enough for his question. “I don’t know, Dad,” I say softly, anticipating his heart breaking at any moment.
“That’s disappointing, to say the least.” Opening the door and stepping one foot out, he stops and peers at me over his shoulder. “Oh, and one more thing. You know you’re grounded until you leave for college, right? Just so we’re clear on that?”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that already.”
“Good,” is all he says before closing the door.
When I hear the rain beginning to pound on the roof, I look back over to Janice’s window. A streak of lightning illuminates the outside, followed by a wicked clap of thunder. The light in Janice’s room turns on and I immediately press the button on the walkie.
“Janice, are you there?” I ask, and wait for an answer. I groan with frustration when there isn’t one.
“Marshmallow, this is Mint Chip, are you there? I see your light’s on. Are you there?”
I hear the crackle of the walkie-talkie and then Hattie’s voice. “Who is this? Dani, is that you?”
I toss the device onto my bed, not really wanting to talk to her. I shut my curtains when I notice her peering at me through the ones covering Janice’s window. Guilt envelops me as the thought of being the one responsible for this whole mess starts to really sink in. I don’t even know how I’ll face her mom if this all comes out.
The sound of my cell phone vibrating draws my attention to the nightstand. Thankfully, my dad hasn’t decided to take that away yet. Hopping onto the bed, I grab it and settle into a comfortable position, propped up by my pile of pillows. Unlocking the screen, I see that a text message from an unknown number has come through. It reads:
Want to know a secret?
I stare at the screen until it fades to black, wondering what the message means, and more importantly, who sent it. I start to reply with sure, but then delete the text.
A loud clap of thunder makes me jump while I’m concentrating on the phone in my hand. When it vibrates, I’m startled again.
“Jumpy much?” I ask myself.
I see Rory’s face show up on the screen, and smile. I know he’s calling to hear all the gossip about last night’s party, and boy do I have some things to talk about.
The drive to school the next day is awkward, to say the least. It’s filled with my dad constantly reminding me how disappointed he is, and I think I heard, “What were you thinking?” at least a hundred times. I don’t even want to get into the discussion we had over a cup of coffee at the kitchen table earlier.
Oh, and let’s not forget about the icing on the cake. Lexi has been marked off-limits, and now I have a personal chauffer for an indeterminate amount of time. You know, though, it’s not often a girl is lucky enough to get dropped off at the very front of a public school—with everyone watching mind you—by a sheriff’s car. The walk of shame up the school’s steps is easily the most memorable part.
Standing at my locker, I find myself staring at the pile of books inside and not really doing much else. I can’t shake the thought that they still haven’t found Janice. As more time passes, the outcome becomes grimmer in my head. The slamming of my locker door brings me back to reality. I turn to see Gunnar waiting there, not looking very happy.
“So, your dad grilled me pretty hard at the station yesterday. He was asking a lot of questions about Janice. Do you have any idea why he’d single me out like that?” he asks in a hard whisper.
I panic. “Uh…not really, no.”
That’s it, Dani, keep piling on the lies.
He sends me quite the glare. “Well, do me a favor and tell him to back off, because I have no idea where she is, all right?”
“Okay, got it,” I reply, wanting to crawl inside my locker forever and never come out. Damn, I’ve never seen Gunnar this pissed before, but I guess I don’t really blame him.
As he storms off, I look around and notice that the halls are quickly clearing out. The bell must’ve gone off and I didn’t even notice. That may have something to do with the irate GQ model who was just all up in my face.
I lean back against the lockers and release a deep sigh. Drawing up my messenger bag, I sling it over my shoulder and trudge my way to Mr. Whitman’s office. He may be slightly irked with me after hearing I still have no idea what my essay is going to be about. I’m so dreading our little chat this morning. The last thing I need right now is to have yet another person tell me how disappointed they are in me.
Not really feeling up to eating when lunch rolls around, I enter the cafeteria and search out Rory and Alex instead of heading for the food line. They’re sitting at one of the round tables in the back corner of the room, and Rory waves me over when he sees me.
“Where the hell did you go Saturday?” I hear Alex ask as I approach the table. “You just up and disappeared.”
“It’s a long story, believe me,” Rory interjects, referencing our conversation last night.
“Wait—you knew and didn’t tell me?” Alex complains while scowling at him.
“Hey, it wasn’t my secret to tell.”
Alex turns her questioning look in my direction and waits for me to reply, her fingernails tapping on the tabletop. “Well?” she asks, after I take my seat and don’t give her what she wants. “I’m waiting.”
“I may have had a little too much to drink and then woke up in a guy’s bed…no big deal,” I say.
Alex’s mouth drops open and Rory reaches over to push it back up.
“What? Really? Who was it? You’ve got to tell me,” she insists.
“A girl never kisses and tells. You know that,” Rory comments. Alex just flashes him a glare.
“Hey, Alex, I already asked Rory this, but do you remember the girl I was at the party with? Janice?”
“Yeah, the one dressed in your slutty bride costume, right?”
“Yeah, her. Did you see her again after we bumped into you? Like with anyone else other than me?”
“No, not that I can remember. Why?”
“No reason really.”
“Come on. You can’t ask a question like that and not follow it up with a reason,” she remarks.
Rory laughs. “It’s a hopeless cause, Alex. I tried to get it out of her last night, but she wouldn’t spill.”
“I was just curious is all,” I state, which only leads to me getting questioning looks from both of them.
I laugh to cover my nerves and look for any opportunity to change the subject. “It was Parker,” I whisper so that only the two of them can hear.
“What was Parker?” Alex asks, but it seems that Rory realizes what I meant.
“Shhh…not so loud,” I chastise. “I woke up in his bed the morning after the party.”
“Shut up,” Alex says loudly.
“Shhhh!” Both Rory and I shush her.
“Sorry,” she replies. “You mean you woke up in the Parker Reed’s bed? You mean the one who left you in the dirt, causing us to have like a million ‘I hate Parker Reed’ sleepovers to get over him? That Parker?” she whispers.
“Yes.”
Her mouth drops open again and Rory is right there to push it back up. “Dani, insert middle name, Marks, what in the hell were you thinking? Have you lost your damn mind?” she asks.
“It wasn’t like it happened on purpose,” I huff.
“Need I remind you of what that a-hole did to you?” Alex asks, and Rory nods while looking pointedly in my direction. “I mean, we even wrote a song entitled, ‘Parker Is a Giant Douche Canoe.’”
“No, I’m fully aware of what happened between him and me. No need for a refresher course on all things douche canoe Parker.”
The lunch bell rings, saving me from further scrutiny from Alex.
“Thi
s convo is so not over, Dani,” she says as we get up from the table. “You, me—conference, after school.”
I giggle. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Ten
Sitting at my desk in the newspaper office, I begin looking over the mock-up for Friday’s issue. Like usual, I’m the first one at the after-school meeting, but I don’t mind because I can usually get some work done before the others show up. Being the editor-in-chief for the paper has its definite ups and downs, but thankfully there are more ups.
“Dani, you’re here early, as usual,” I hear Mr. Whitman say as he enters the office.
“Am I really that predictable?” I ask with a laugh.
He smiles. “I wouldn’t call it predictable. More like dedicated or dependable.” He takes the mock-up from my hands and begins flipping through it. “Looks good.”
“I agree, though the margins are a little off on the sports column. I’ll try and fix it before everyone shows up,” I reply, taking it back from his hands.
“Oh, I completely forgot to tell you all during today’s meeting that I have a surprise for you. We’re going to have a new addition to the newspaper since I can’t be here to help out as often as I’d like to,” he says as he takes a seat behind his desk.
“An addition? Who is it?”
Just as he’s about to respond, a couple of newspaper staff members walk into the room.
“You’ll find out soon,” he answers and turns his attention back to the door as more students enter.
I reach for the mock-up that I placed at the edge of the desk and knock over my pen cup, spilling the contents onto the floor. Damn.
As I begin picking up the pens and pencils, I hear the door to the office open again, and then a familiar male’s voice fills the room. Peeking over the desk, I see Parker shaking hands with Mr. Whitman. I cower behind the desk once I realize he must be who Mr. Whitman was talking about. Succumbing to the fact that I can’t hide behind my desk for the rest of the meeting, I rise up, slowly and inconspicuously, while putting the writing utensils back into the cup and taking a seat.
My eyes slam into Parker’s and we experience an “oh crap” moment. He sends me a quick wave to say hello and I flash him a forced smile.
The nerve of him. Seriously? You know, I could easily write him off—if only he wasn’t so freakin’ drop-dead gorgeous and didn’t completely ensnare all my senses in one fell swoop. Oh, and I guess he can be an all-right guy at times too.
Once everyone is settled at their desks, Mr. Whitman calls the staff’s attention to him and Parker. I notice a few of the girls in the room are already completely smitten with Parker.
“Poor bastards,” I say under my breath.
“I’d like to introduce my new assistant on the newspaper, Parker Reed. He was my star pupil when he attended Brookmoor High. He actually sat in your desk, Dani,” Mr. Whitman says, motioning over to me.
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” I mumble.
A memory of me and Parker sitting alone in this office sweeps into my mind. This was where we first kissed, right here at this very desk. Not only our first kiss, but mine. I remember it like it was yesterday. The butterflies return in the pit of my stomach, as I think about the anticipation of his lips against mine. He was a seasoned pro and I was this little meek flower just ready to be plucked. He was the reason I joined the paper in the first place.
Mr. Whitman’s voice floats into my head, taking me away from my daydream. “Parker’s going to be filling in for me when I can’t be here to assist you with the paper. He’s a journalism major at Blackburn University, and is very experienced in this field. Any questions that you have for me can easily be answered by him, as well.”
Parker just stands there, all smiles, but I notice him glancing over at me every once in a while. I can’t deny that I still have feelings for him, but can I trust him? That is the question of the century.
“Dani,” Mr. Whitman says, startling me out of my thoughts. “I want you to bring Mr. Reed here up to speed on how we run the paper now. Things have changed a little since he was the editor-in-chief, and I think it’s only fitting that the current one does the honor.”
Shit, really? Well, there goes that idea of trying to avoid him.
“Sure, sounds great,” I reply, trying to suppress the angst bubbling up inside me.
“Why don’t you start by showing him around campus? I’m sure he’ll want to see how the old school has been spruced up a bit,” Mr. Whitman says.
“But what about the mock-up?” I ask, holding it up.
“I’ll walk everyone through it, don’t worry. You should get used to working with Parker one-on-one, anyway, since I want you to be his go-to person on the staff,” he replies with a smile.
Oh, joy of joys. Mr. Whitman is lucky I like him, because right now it’s taking every muscle in my body not to just smack him upside the head and yell out no. And Parker’s comment of, “I look forward to it,” doesn’t help matters much, either.
When I approach the door to leave the office, Parker grabs the handle and opens it before I can. He can be a gentleman sometimes, I guess. I hear the door close behind me and turn to face Parker to give him a piece of my mind away from prying ears.
I collide with his highly-toned chest, and he grabs hold of me. My face floats mere inches from his. His cologne is so enticing. Consider that three senses completely ensnared right there.
“If you wanted to make out, all you had to do was ask,” he jokes, talking closely to my mouth, teasing my lips.
I push away from him and he lets out a chuckle.
“Thanks for abandoning me Sunday,” I say resentfully.
“Oh…sorry about that. When I saw the deputy’s car, I split to avoid confrontation,” he replies. “I wanted to stay and wait for you—”
“But you didn’t,” I interrupt.
As I turn to walk down the hall, he takes my arm and drags me gently back to face him. “Hey, I’m not finished with you yet,” he says with a grin. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“We do, do we? I thought we were pretty much caught up the moment you did what you typically do in stressful situations: leave me,” I snap back.
“I told you I was sorry about that. There’s not much more I can say.”
“Oh, really? Well, I guess this tour is over then,” I reply, heading back toward the office door.
I hear Parker say, “We really do need to talk,” but I just ignore him. I wrench open the door, which seems to surprise Mr. Whitman, who’s right in the middle of a discussion.
“Finished so soon?” he asks as I enter the office.
“Turns out not much has changed,” I reply, passing him on the way to my desk.
After the meeting is over, I find myself still fixing the margins on the sports section. It’s only Parker, Mr. Whitman, and me left in the office.
“I’ve got to run, Dani. The Mrs. is making dinner and I get in trouble when I’m late,” Mr. Whitman laughs. “You better get home soon too. Dedication should not always lead to obsession.”
“I’m almost done here. Just want to finish this before I head out.”
“I’ll wait for her,” Parker says and I mock him from behind my computer screen.
“It’s great that you two are getting on so well already,” I hear Mr. Whitman say as he opens the office door to leave. “See you tomorrow, Dani. And don’t forget to work on your essay.”
“I won’t, Mr. Whitman, promise,” I reply with an empty smile.
The instant he steps out, Parker strolls over and circles the desk while watching me like a predator does its prey. I try to ignore him and remain focused on my computer screen, but my eyes dart over at the sound of the pen cup sliding across the desk. Parker takes a seat on the edge of the desk right next to me. I fight back the urge to look over at him.
All I ask is, “Yes?”
He reaches over and hits control S on the keyboard, and in the process gently grazes my hand. A shiver surges through my
arm at the softest embrace from his skin. He then proceeds to turn off the computer screen, causing me to turn abruptly and face him.
“What do you think you’re—” I say before I’m silenced with a kiss.
I slap his chest and try to push away, but he cups my face with his hands and pulls me closer, securing his lock on my lips. When he begins to run his fingers through my hair I start to relax, allowing the kiss to deepen. It’s the moment his tongue tries to slip into my mouth that I snap out of it.
“Really?” I ask, pushing him back onto the desk.
“Well, you didn’t want to talk, so I figured this was the next best thing.” The grin that shows up on his face is the very one that won me over years ago. His smile and smirk are nothing to shake a stick at, but his grin is stuff of legend.
“Why do you have to do that?” I ask.
“Do what exactly?” he answers with a confused look and that damn grin still on his mouth.
“Look so damn cute,” I reply.
I stand, positioning myself between his legs. His hands move to rest on the small of my back as he pulls me closer. I brace myself on his broad, muscular shoulders and release a small giggle when I dodge his attempt at kissing me again. His bright blue eyes bore into mine. I’ve lost many hours just staring into those beauties.
A whiff of his cologne fills my nose and flips a switch. I push Parker down onto the desk. I climb up on top of him and place one knee on either side of his body, straddling his hips. I hear the crash of the pen cup on the ground as I begin to slowly trace his abs under his shirt with my fingertips. Touching Parker is intoxicating. I can never get enough of him. Which, if our past is any indication, is a very dangerous thought.
He lets out a moan of anticipation as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to rest against his chest. His arms feel so right around me, like they were meant to encircle my frame. As our mouths embrace again, I can’t seem to get enough of the sweet taste of his lips.
Parker releases my face, all the while still staring into my eyes. He smiles as he brushes a few rogue strands of hair behind my ear.
