"Today is a good day," I decide, talking to my reflection in the mirror. I manage to tame my hair into a low middle part bun and I throw on an old pair of jeans along with one of Silas' old sweatshirts. "Today will be a great day."
It's a Friday so you know what that means. Therapy! Yay!
I don't know why I'm so excited to go to my therapy session but I just have this weird feeling in my stomach that refuses to go away. Maybe today I'll make a breakthrough.
I smile to myself, just thinking about him makes my cheeks turn red. Argh! What is this feeling?
He knows not to pick me up on Fridays, he's asked why a billion times and each time I'd give him a different answer. There's no way I'd tell him that I'm seeing a shrink then he'll know for sure that I'm practically one ticket away from the loony bin.
Well...I know he wouldn't think that but still, what if there was the slightest possibility that he would?
Either way, I'm not taking any chances. I haven't even told him about my AvPD. I keep imagining his reaction and each time I do, it's never a good one. It usually ends with Parker and me not speaking anymore and me going back to be alone again.
I grab my stuff and venture to the living room where my Pops was watching Kim Kardashian complain about an earring on the telly.
"Hey Pops," I smile sadly down at him. He was in his work clothes even though he hasn't worked in a long time. I figured that today was one of his bad days. "You okay?"
He barely looks at me as he reassures me that he's fine. Before, when both he and Papa were alive, he was the most positive person around, even when Papa would shut himself up in that tiny office room for weeks and refuse to come out or speak to anyone. He was always the backbone of the family when things went wrong, he never wanted us to see Papa when he was 'dark' so he would pretend that Papa was working on some big project and couldn't be disturbed.
I never told him about the times when Papa would come into my room full of energy and wake me up at 4 am to make curry goat just like how his mum made it. Or when he held the phone to me and told me to speak to my grandmother who had died three years earlier. I never told pops any of this but I'm sure he already knew.
But now Pops is unrecognisable, he's practically miserable all the time and no matter how hard I try, I couldn't get him out of it. It's partially the reason why Silas was so quick to leave for uni, I suspected that he was too scared to see another parent lose themselves.
Pops isn't as bad as Papa was but still, it doesn't stop me from being scared.
"Therapy?" He mumbles to me, seaweed green eyes glued to the screen.
I nod, not like he could even see me. "We should get you one," I say, knowing this would set him off.
He begins shaking his head fervently, "No no no, I'm fine, look!" He finally looks at my face and shakes his skinny arms about as if that's meant to persuade me.
I decide not to push it and kiss him lightly on the forehead before I leave.
I put my earphones in, an attempt to distract myself from the madness in my head. The soft chimes of music playing through the mini speakers and into my mind as I cycle, already calming me.
The session comes and goes and I leave the building with a smile. I feel so accomplished.
I was finally opening up and learning to overcome my social anxiety.
I've made friends, I've eaten in public spaces. I've gone to other people's houses. All of these things I'd never thought I'd be able to do after I got diagnosed. But I'm doing them now and I feel great...
That is until I see him.
My jaw drops. He's just standing there, dressed in a pale blue Gap tee and paint-stained blue jeans, the thin gold chain he usually wore underneath his shirt was visible and reflecting the light from the sun.
My eyes must be deceiving me.
"What are you doing here, Parker?"
He begins stuttering, "I shouldn't have come, I know, " he nervously chews his already plump bottom lip. His jewel-like eyes staring at me. He knows instantly that he's done something he shouldn't have. He has that guilty child look on his face. "What is this place?"
He looks around and I know he's reading the huge sign that says psychiatric office.
I feel like sinking into the ground.
We stand there just looking at each other for a while, both of us speechless.
There's nowhere for me to hide and I could feel the panicky feeling that usually disappeared when I was around Parker rise again in my belly.
He puts his car keys in his jean pocket along with both his hands, his shoulders held up high and tense.
He has his confused face on. His thick brown eyebrows furrow together while his lips part and close as if he's about to say something but he doesn't.
Finally, he breaks the silence.
"Are you gonna say anything?" He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"How long have you been standing there?" My mouth feels broken like my brain wasn't fathoming what was going on right now.
He's already seen the sign, he probably thinks I'm crazy.
He blushes as he runs a hand through his hair. "I...followed you."
"You followed me?" Shock runs through my veins, my privacy had been invaded. I feel so unsettled.
I told him time and time again that Friday is my day and he violated that. "Why would you do that?" I croak, the hurt seeping through my voice.
"I was being nosy and I overstepped, I apologise." I couldn't even look at him. I turn my face away and start to mount my bike. I needed to get out of here desperately. "Harley, I'm sorry. I had no right, y-you just wouldn't tell me where you go and I thought maybe if I waited outside your house today, I'd ask you... but you left in a hurry and you had your earphones in so I-I-I followed you."
I still can't bring myself to face him. I'm too embarrassed, ashamed even. Maybe even a little angry.
The worst thing about this is I can't even act upon my feelings, I can't yell at him, I can't cry, I can't do anything without seeming even crazier.
I'm certain he's read the sign and he knows this is the building where people with mental illnesses go. I'm sure he's put two and two together and has given himself an explanation for my weird behaviour.
"Harley, say something...anything." He pleads, apprehension in his voice.
What did he expect me to say? Oh, I'm sorry I'm actually a total nut case and I've been lying to you this whole time, still friends? :)
Of course not.
"I- I can't..." I pedal off in the opposite direction, far far from him. I can hear him trying to run after me but I'm pedalling so fast he wouldn't be able to catch up.
I ride all the way to school instead of taking the bus, ignoring the vibration of my phone in my pocket. The phone I only got because of him.
In such a short period of a few months, Parker has helped me evolve as a person. Things I didn't even know about myself he's brought out of me, both good and bad. And now it may be over.
Just like that.
I manage to avoid Parker and his friends, particularly Jasmin, for the rest of the school day. Although, I do see him walking around with Sander and Zacchias as if everything's okay. I envy him. I wish I could just sit in my classes and not be thinking about what he thought about me. I wish I had friends I could talk to about my problems and not be afraid of how they felt about me. I wish I had normal thought processes and the thought of people knowing about my condition didn't make me incredibly anxious.
I couldn't wait for the school day to be over so I can go home and cry under the covers of my bed.
Two tubs of Vanilla ice cream and 3 movies later, Caesar and I are watching Cinderella lose her glass slipper again for the second time. I rub his fuzzy ear mindlessly as he twitches in my lap, begging for another treat. He looks so adorable like this so I rush to get my camera and snap a few shots of him with his tongue lagging out waiting for another treat to enter his mouth.
I wish life was like a fairy-tail where I could dress up as Cinderella and leave my old life behind and marry a prince who didn't care if I was some stupid maid who goes home without noticing that half her shoe was missing. But life isn't a fairy-tail and I don't need a man to rescue although it wouldn't hurt to want one.
I don't even realise I'd fallen asleep before I wake up to Caesar's slippery licks on my face and my phone buzzing continuously.
I avoid checking the caller i.d before I decline the call and smush my head further into my pillow.
My phone buzzes again but this time it was a text message sound. I reluctantly get up and pick up my phone.
Window.- sent by Spidey :)
I tiptoe across my bedroom and I peep through my curtains only to see Parker standing outside on the dark, silent street clad in a tight black t-shirt and plain black jogging bottoms. He was carrying two bulging plastic bags in one hand and his phone in the other.
"Parker?" I whisper loud enough for him to hear but not loud enough to wake pops up.
"It is my lady. Oh, it is my love. Oh, that she knew she were!" He carefully drops the bags on the ground near his feet and begins proclaiming, holding his hands up in the air and spinning around like a jester.
"What are you doing, you mad boy?" I laugh. "You're going to wake my Dad up!"
"She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that? Her eye discourses. I will answer it." He continues after biting on his bottom lip. the wind blows his hair in front of his eyes, shielding them momentarily. "Come outside, Juliet." He says in a soft whisper, looking directly at me.
I stare back at him, realising that I couldn't stop smiling. I rush back inside and swap out my old blue dolphin PJs for black leggings and a grey hoodie.
I sneak my way past pops closed bedroom door and tiptoe carefully down the old creaky staircase and out of the house. This is the first time I've ever snuck out and it feels absolutely exhilarating to finally do normal teenage things.
The weather isn't all that bad considering that it's 11 pm, the wind is gentle and the sky is mostly clear apart from the array of stars decorating it. There's a slight chill in the air which indicates that winter is steadily approaching. I wonder how Parker isn't freezing his arse off in that little t-shirt.
He stands before me, cheesing like a kid on his birthday. His hands stuffed in his front two pockets and his shoulders hunched up either in anticipation or lack of warmth from that flimsy t-shirt. I notice that it had a splash of dark orange paint on the front, it's almost as if every item of clothing this boy has is covered in paint. Maybe, I should get him an apron for Christmas. If we even last till then.
His hair has grown out past his ears and he looks like he's in dire need of a haircut but, somehow, I still feel the random urge to run my hands through it.
"Hi." I rub on my arms for warmth. I didn't even want to question how my hair looks right now. I had thrown it into a small bun but I didn't put any gel to keep the flyways down so it probably looks a straight mess.
"Hi." He says back and we stare at each other as a million silent words travel between us. His piercing grey eyes lock in with mine and I feel like I'm about to fly away. "That was Romeo and Juliet by the way."
"I know."
He shoves one of the plastic Sainsbury bags hesitantly into my hand. "I brought you something."
I open it. Inside there were at least 4 mini buckets of glace cherries along with fresh cinnamon buns.
"Part 2?" He shrugs with a cheeky glint in his eyes.
"But-" I start. Didn't he see? I'm not like him or his friends. He should know by now that I'm mentally ill. Isn't that enough to make him run away?
"Come with me." He interrupts, holding out his hand. I hesitate, why is he doing all this? "Do you trust me?"
That question takes me back to the first time I went to his house. I trusted him then and I trust him now and I know that I will always trust him.
His smile doesn't falter when I grab his hand.
I know this area like the back of my hand. From the days, where Silas and I would leave the house for hours whenever Papa was in his moods and when Pops was at work. We would venture around the neighbourhood looking for the treasure that Silas had hidden in different places for me to discover later. Just thinking about it made me realise how much Silas wanted to protect me and keep me happy, even if there was world war 3 happening at home, he would make sure there was always peace for me to escape to when we left the house. We walk on for a few miles, our hands brushing against each other every so often, before I ask him where we're going.
He holds a finger to his lips and whispers "Shh, it's a surprise."
He continues to lead me through the dark streets using the dull glow of the street lights as a guide to see where we're going.
We take tiny steps across the black pavement, matching each other's walking rhythm. Imagining we were thieves in the night.
Occasionally, he gently squeezes my hand as a way of reassuring me.
"Do you know how many girls would kill to have Parker Sorrisi kidnap them at 11 pm?" I tease lightly. "I must be lucky."
He scoffs. "In reality, I'm the lucky one here." He squeezes my hand again and I feel that familiar shock of electricity flow through my bones. I felt grateful that it was dark outside so he couldn't see how red my face had become.
Finally, he takes a turn and leads me through a dark alleyway that smelt vaguely of cat piss. I scrunch my nose up in an attempt to keep the smell out but it wasn't working. I begin to wonder just where on earth he's taking me.
"Er, not to be funny but this is the part where you say 'I'm not trying to kill you, we're just going on a friendly walk.'"
He laughs to himself. "I'm not trying to kill you, we're just going on a friendly walk, now shut it so I don't get distracted by your beauty and lose the way."
I roll my eyes in the dark, not that he could even see me.
We turn another corner and he stops walking abruptly to which I accidentally bump straight into his back.
I rub my forehead. "Ouch."
"Here we are!" He announces and spins around smiling with his arms outstretched. "I know you like to take pictures of landscapes so I thought I'd bring you to the best stargazing spot in town, I hope you brought your camera!"
He looks at me, excitement dancing in his grey eyes. I couldn't help but smile at what I see around us.
Lights. Battery-powered fairy lights decorated an old brown couch in the middle of a field, the nearby trees were decorated with fairy lights too so the place looked like something out of a cheesy romcom. I stand in awe, it was weird but somehow I couldn't stop staring at its beauty.
Why would he do this for me?
He strolls towards the dusty brown couch and plonks himself down on it with a reminiscent expression on his face. A cloud of dust emits into the air around the couch and I had to fight the urge to cough.
"This is where I go when I'm sad, whenever I feel lost." He pats the space next to him and I sit down tentatively, staring at all the sparkling lights. "I used to sit here for hours in the summer nights and just watch the stars. It's where I did most of my art as a child."
The stars shone in front of us and he passes me a flask of warm cider from the other plastic bag. I've never really drunk alcohol before but I don't refuse it. I need something to settle the butterflies in my stomach. I take it from him and take a large swig. Instantly, I recoiled from the taste and almost spat it out.
"Steady there, tiger." He chuckles. His face goes serious for a moment as he takes a small sip from his thermos. "If you ever feel like talking, Harley, just say the word, no pressure."
I sip again at the cider. The weird warm sweet taste zinging my tongue and heating the pit of my belly at the same time. I'm not sure whether I like it or not.
I'd been wondering the entire walk here whether or not he actually read the sign when he caught me outside of my therapists' office because no normal teenage boy would still want to talk to me after seeing those words let alone decorate a secret garden for me. It seemed normal for me to assume that he thought I was a nut-job and would naturally never speak to me again. But after hearing these words coming out of his mouth, I know he knows. And yet... he was still here, cuddling me and offering comforting words.
I could feel the mechanisms of Parker's chest as my body lays on it. The soft rise and fall of it made me feel so safe. Or maybe it was just the alcohol. I want so badly to talk to him about everything but I'm still so afraid of what he would think of me. So afraid to lose him.
What kind of teenage boy has an old couch in the middle of nowhere just so he could have a perfect place to watch the stars at night? I find myself wondering just how many girls he's taken here and said the same things too.
So I choose not to speak and we fill the silence with the sounds of our occasional sips and our breathing.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he licks his lips and says, "Crescent never knew about this place. In fact, I've never shown anyone this place before, not even Zacchias."
I still don't know who Crescent is and no matter how many times I try to gather some knowledge about her from Jasmin, she always told me her lips were sealed, much to my frustration.
"Why not?" I gaze at him, watching him lift the bottle and place the top between his watermelon red lips. I watch as the copper liquid trickled into his mouth like a waterfall, the bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallows. Something about his presence makes me so nervous yet so comfortable.
He shrugs. "I didn't want them to see me vulnerable." He reveals. "It's a bad feeling, worrying about what other people think of you."
He looks heavenward and sighs deeply. I feel a connection with him at this moment.
I also hated feeling vulnerable, that is part of the reason why I hated going to therapy; it's basically just an entire hour talking about how vulnerable you are.
It was also the reason why I haven't messaged Silas.
"I get you." I say, finally.
Taking another sip of his Cider, he sighs. "More than you know."
I take a deep breath in and decide to ask the question again. "Who's Cr-"
"Crescent was my ex-girlfriend." He beats me to it, almost aware of what I was thinking. He's always been two steps ahead of me. His normally smooth forehead creases and his eyebrows draw together as if he's reliving a bad memory.
"What's the story?" I wonder aloud. I took a large swig of the cider. I guess I need to prepare myself for whatever he is about to say.
He laughs, sadly. "What are you? A reporter or a photographer?" I nudge him playfully and his face settles back into its default blank expression. "It was a messy breakup, we just didn't understand each other."
"What happened?"
"I told her I didn't believe in love." He looks down, his jawline looks even sharper in the moonlight. His shoulders slump, afraid of seeing my reaction. "People say I ruined her...like it was my fault I didn't know how to fall in love. I was only 15!"
I blink at him, expecting him to say he was joking but he continues looking down, too scared to catch my eye. I reach for the packet of cherries in the bag and popped one in my mouth. "You still don't believe in love?"
He finally turns his head and his sad wide eyes meet mine, I almost choke on the cherry in my mouth from how gorgeous he is. Who wouldn't want to fall in love with him?
"Don't you notice how people always leave, Harley?" His lower lip trembles a little as if he was about to cry. I think about his words for a moment, not sure what to say back. "My dad left my mamma when I was little." He sits up properly and gazes up at the stars.
"If love was real, people would never leave, they would never be able to fall out of it." He gulps down the rest of the warm cider in a swift motion and shakes his head at the aftertaste.
We sit pensively on the couch taking in the night sky and being super aware of the presence of each other. I cuddle into his rigid body which soon relaxes under my touch. He holds me closer.
"My papa left too," I spoke into his t-shirt where my head lay softly. "So I know how hard it is and maybe you're right, if love was real then people wouldn't leave. Right? Right?"
I repeat more urgently. He just hugs me tighter. It feels amazing to be held by someone for once.
"Why did you bring me here, Parker?"
He was using his free hand to massage circles on my scalp. The feeling was almost orgasmic as I purr under his touch.
"Because I like you."
I wait for him to say more but he doesn't, he just continues rubbing my head.
"Like like-like or just like?" I immediately start blushing as I realise how childish I must sound.
He laughs quietly and holds my face in the crevice of his hands. He does this a lot whenever he wants to read my face, he'd just prop it up in his hands and stare at me. It was a little intense but I felt closer to him every time he did it. It made me feel like he could see me like really see me.
His eyes meet mine as he whispers "A bit of both, I think." His signature cheeky smile plays on his lips again.
I think he knows it drives me wild.
I remove his hands from my face and sit back on the opposite side of the couch. "You don't even know me. The real me."
"So then show me the real you," he says breathlessly. "I wanna know it all, the good, the bad, the beginning, the end and every single nitty-gritty detail between. I want to know you, Harley."
I gaze into his silvery grey eyes and I can't help but wonder what I look like in his reflection. I wonder how much it would change after what I'm about to tell him.
"I know what that place was," He pauses as if it was too intimidating to say any more. "It was a psychiatrists office, right?"
I nod, fiddling with my fingers in my lap. So he did know and yet none of my biggest fears has come true yet.
"Mind if I ask why you were there?" His eyes were warm and welcoming as they always are. I know that he would never judge me for anything I had done, he was always there with open hands waiting to hear whatever I had to say.
It's like Shakespeare said 'A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still allows you to grow.'
I know Parker even more now and I want him to know me.
Our knees knock against each other slightly and I turn my head to face him. "When I was 12, one of my dads passed away."
"One of your dads?" His eyebrows raise in confusion but then clicks together like he was connecting the dots. "Is that what you meant by he left?"
"My parents are-were gay." He nods in understanding but I notice that his cheeks had gotten red from embarrassment. "It's cool, there are not many gay parents in Beaumont so it's easy to be confused." I laugh to lighten the mood.
I'll never forget the weird looks in primary school or all the intrusive questions from both the teachers and my classmates.
Why do you have two dads?
Why is one black and the other white?
So, you don't have a mum?
The list goes on...
"Anyway," I continue. "My Papa had a condition called manic depression disorder also known as Bipolar. He had suffered from it for many years as well as avoidant personality disorder before meeting my Pops." I take another swig and I can feel myself get looser and more open. It was like a magical liquor that could make me talk freely. I feel a bit like that guy from the big bang theory show who could only talk to girls when he was drunk.
He watches me carefully as I talk, taking in every word I was saying with not an inch of discomfort or disgust on his face.
"He was good for a long while, he got married, had me and adopted my brother Silas. Then one day he was gone, he got hit by a car right outside of our house. It was my brother who found him, lying on the roadside, dead. He always told us how much he loved us and I know it's kind of selfish of me to think this but... if he really loved us he wouldn't have left, he wouldn't have abandoned us."
I could feel the tears coming as my voice choked up, with a quick careful motion I could feel these warm arms surrounding my body. I'm not quite sure why I lied, the words just kept tumbling out of my mouth. I guess a part of me would never stop being afraid of what Parker thought.
I lean into his soft broad shoulder and weep like a child. He smells like grass and cider with a faint hint of orange. I wanted to bury my head in his arms forever and just forget about everything.
"It's okay, " he says, stroking my upper arm delicately. "It's okay."
"And now the only parent that I have left is practically a lifeless doll. He hasn't left the house in years and barely speaks to me anymore. I suppose he sees too much of my Papa in me. Sometimes, I feel as though he hates me, or he wishes it was me that God took rather than Papa. And Silas has gone off to Uni on the opposite side of the country and has left us all behind too. Doesn't he care?"
"I mean he calls sometimes but it's not the same as him being around and I suppose he can't put his life on hold to take care of us, what a selfish selfish thing to wish for. I just don't know how to cope anymore, Parker, I just don't." The tears keep falling like they're not going to stop. I'm probably making his t-shirt all wet and uncomfortable but I can't bring myself to stop.
I try to take another swig of my cider but he swiftly removes it from my hands and pours it out on the grass beside us. "That's enough cider for you, madam." He says it in a stern joking way which makes me smile a little.
I sit up a bit but make sure I'm still leaning against his shoulder. "There's something I have to tell you, Spidey."
He looks down at me, his long brown eyelashes framing his wonderful eyes. Up close they were even more fascinating, even more captivating. I almost couldn't tear my eyes away from him. "You have what your dad had, don't you?" He doesn't say it like he's judging me but more as if he knew all along.
"Partly yes. I don't have Bipolar, but I do have the avoidant personality disorder," I briefly look away, scared to see him as he responds.
"Okay," he shrugs.
"Okay?" That wasn't what I was expecting him to say. I watch him turn his head and look longingly into the distance. I couldn't read the expression on his face so I had no idea what he was thinking.
"Okay." He reaches into the plastic bag and takes a large bite of the cinnamon roll. Some powdered sugar is caught around his mouth but he doesn't bother wiping it off before taking another bite.
"So you don't think I'm crazy?"
He watches my face, thoughtfully. "Having a mental illness doesn't make you crazy, Pencils." I shy my face away from him but he grabs my cheeks again softly to face his startling grey eyes. "Look at me, Harley. Don't you ever ever think that, alright?" I nod and he releases his hands from my face. Some of the powdered sugar from his fingers rub off my cheeks from where he was holding it. I remove it with my thumb and lick it.
He wipes his hand on his trousers and fingers the stubble on his chiselled jaw.
"Look at that star up there." He points upwards to where there was a constellation of stars decorating the sky. I snuggled up closer to him and he holds me tight under the blanket. "See how bright it is, from a glance it may look the same as the others but once you really look at it, I mean really look at it, you can just tell it shines different." He pauses. "You shine different, Harley."
I blush under the blanket and I'm suddenly grateful he can't see my red face. We fall into a comfortable silence as we lay huddled up next to each other, trying to keep warm in the cold. I no longer daydream about being a normal girl living a normal life with a normal boyfriend.
Instead, I think about how not normal I am and how not normal Parker was and we were perfectly not normal together and that was okay. I didn't feel the need to be normal when I was around him, I could just be myself.
Just Harley.
I rest my head snugly on his chest and I could feel it softly rise and fall underneath me. He wraps the blanket around me closer and pulled me in. I couldn't help but be consumed with thoughts about the boy who almost always has charcoal stained hands and paint stains on every item of clothing he has, or whose lopsided smile shows the silver fillings in his cavities or the slight dimple he had on his cheek that I was almost sure he had no clue about. I couldn't help but think about the boy who managed to persuade me to leave my house at 11 pm on a school night to sleep on an old abandoned sofa in the middle of a forsaken lot.
Even as my eyes start to feel heavier, I couldn't help but think about falling in love with the boy next to me.
"Hey, Parker?"
"Mmhmm?" He sleepily acknowledges. His eyes are practically closed and his head kept lolling off the edge of the arm of the couch. His mouth is dangling open slightly and he looks so peaceful and cute.
"I promise not to leave." I breathe.
He shakes his head. "You can't promise that."
"I can and I will," I affirm.
"Don't, Harley." His eyes open and he peers at me. "No promises, okay?"
"Okay."
We lie there watching the velvety midnight sky, it looked as though Van Gogh himself had risen from the dead and painted it.
After a while, I hear Parker sigh.
"I don't want to end up like my dad." He says after a while.
"Me neither."
"When we lay here, the world disappears. There's just you and me, okay Harley?"
"Okay, Parker."
I turn to face him and watch as his eyes get droopy and fall asleep.
And I fall asleep too.
A/N- Please vote, comment and share with your friends. I'm so excited about this story and I have so much more to share with you guys. I value everyone's opinions so please share your thoughts!ð¤