Scattered Colors (12 page)

I couldn’t argue with that. I had no doubt that as I got older I’d look back on my last year of high school and realize it didn’t mean much of anything in the big picture of life.

“You’re right,” I finally spoke. The moment the words passed my lips the grin on Parker’s face grew into something almost blindingly beautiful. When he smiled like that, I realized just how handsome he truly was. And having that look directed at me stole the breath from my lungs.

“So, you’ll give this friendship a fair shot? You won’t give up?”

I laughed at his excitement as I answered. “I won’t give up.”

The smile quickly disappeared from his face, an acute seriousness taking its place. “Promise.” It wasn’t a question. I got the distinct feeling he needed our friendship even more than I did, and I was quickly discovering I wanted to give him that peace of mind.

“I promise, Parker.”

In the evenings that passed over the following weeks, watching the sunset together became our thing. Every day, I’d make the short trek down to the beach and every day, Parker would join me. Sometimes he’d already be there, resting on what I was starting to think of as ‘our log’ as I stepped off the trail onto the rocky sand, and some days he wouldn’t show until it was almost over. But no matter what, he was always there with me as the last rays of daylight kissed at the sky. I found myself growing more and more anxious for that time of the day, knowing it wasn’t just because of the closeness I felt to my mother’s spirit, but also because those moments were becoming special between Parker and me.

Some evenings, we’d talk and laugh together while other days, neither of us spoke. I was quickly learning the differences in Parker’s moods as the days passed. He always seemed the same at school, but on occasion something would happen between the time the final bell rang and the moment we’d meet on the beach. On the days that silence remained between us, I could feel the melancholy seeping off him.

The more time I spent with him, the greater the need to open up to him became. I felt a sort of kinship with Parker that made keeping all of my sorrow locked away harder and harder. Finally, on a particularly chilly day weeks after we’d started spending our evenings together, I decided it was time. As I headed for the beach, I felt weightless in my decision to tell Parker my story even though I knew talking about my mom out loud would hurt. Maybe by me sharing my story, Parker would be able to let out whatever it was that was plaguing him. Hopefully, in time, we’d be able to help each other heal.

I inhaled a cleansing breath as I remembered what my mother had said to me that day at the beach. In that moment, with the sun only a thin sliver on the horizon, I wanted nothing more than to share a piece of her with the enigmatic boy who seemed to be developing into a constant figure in my life.

“You asked me once why I always watched the sunset,” I said as I stared out into the endless sky in front of me.

I could see Parker was focusing on me out of the corner of my eye. “I remember.”

“When I was little, my mom taught me that nothing in life is guaranteed. She said sunsets were a gift from God, that there was nothing as beautiful as the different colors He painted the sky with. She didn’t want me to ever get so busy that I forgot to stop and appreciate that gift, because there’s no promise of how many we’ll have in our lifetime.” As I spoke, tears ran down my cheeks. To Parker’s credit, he didn’t draw any attention to them.

Neither of us spoke for several minutes. Finally, Parker’s deep voice broke through the silence. “How long ago did she die, Freya?” He asked so quietly I almost didn’t hear.

“A little over four months ago.”

“Jesus. I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

When I looked over at him, the compassion and sincerity shining through his dark eyes cracked something inside of me. If my opinion of him hadn’t been changed in the past weeks we’d spent together, that very moment would have done it. There was no denying he wasn’t the awful person I’d been trying to make him out to be when we first met. Parker truly was a good person.

“Thank you.”

“So, is that why you moved here?”

The cherished memory of my mother faded into the background as the reasons for what brought me to Sommerspoint pushed forward. I let out a deep sigh. “My dad couldn’t really handle it after Mom died. He was always a workaholic, but it got even worse. I guess he couldn’t deal with being in the same house we’d all lived in together. He came home one day and sprang it on me. Told me to pack my stuff, we were moving. That was it. He’d already put the house on the market. It was done and I hadn’t even known it was happening.”

“Shit, Freya. That had to have been hard.”

That was putting it mildly. “You have no idea. I’d already lost my mom, my best friend. It felt like he was taking away everything else. Everything and everyone I loved is back in Chicago and now it’s all gone. He moved me to this little town where I don’t know anybody and buried himself in his work. He’s never home. I miss him, but at the same time, I’m so mad at him for what he’s done. Sometimes I just feel like I’m all alone, you know?”

Reaching over, he brushed a strand of hair from my face. The gesture was so tender it brought forth another flood of tears. “You don’t have to be alone. You know that, right? You’ve got me and Stella, no matter what. And as for your dad, just give him some time.”

“I really hope you’re right about that,” I whispered.

Parker reached up and wiped my tears away with his thumb. “I do, too, sweetheart.”

Several days passed since my confession to Parker. After that evening, the pain was still there, still strong, but it was nice to have a shoulder to lean on whenever I needed it. Parker had offered up that shoulder without so much as batting an eye.

I’d gotten home from the beach a while ago and gone about my evening the same as I did every other day, only that night there was something a little different. Even though I’d only left Parker a few short hours before, I was already starting to
miss
him. It was ridiculous, but the enigmatic boy I’d tried so hard to avoid when I first arrived in Sommerspoint had somehow inundated himself into my life to the point where I wanted him there constantly. I pushed those thoughts away and went about my routine, trying not to overanalyze what was happening between the two of us. I told myself that I just needed to live in the moment.

I did my homework, made myself some dinner, and took a shower before I finally crawled into bed and picked up my e-reader. I browsed through my library, hoping something would catch my attention.

About halfway through the book, I managed to lose myself in the storyline. I was so wrapped up in the characters and their struggles that when something banged against my bedroom window, it startled a shriek out of me. I jumped from the bed, my heart falling into my stomach as I darted for the bedroom door, my beloved e-reader long forgotten. Just as I wrenched the door open, a deep, muffled voice called from behind me.

“Christ, Freya! It’s me.” I spun around to see Parker pressing his palms against the window. “Think you can let me in?”

My heart was beating at an unhealthy pace. Parker had just scared the ever-loving hell out of me. I didn’t know if I wanted to let him in or push him off whatever he was standing on.

Finally, my sensibility kicked and I decided against causing bodily harm. “How the hell did you get up here?” I asked as I turned the lock on the window and lifted it open.

“I climbed the arbor,” he huffed as he pulled himself up and through the window, landing on the floor of my bedroom with a dull thud. “You know, your dad should really take a look at that thing. It’s wobbly as hell. Thought I might break my neck there for a second. Not structurally sound at all.”

“That’s because it’s not made for people to climb on, moron!” I scolded. “And what the hell are you doing climbing through my window in the first place? How did you even know this was my room?”

Parker stood and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, dropping it on my desk before walking over to my bed and plopping down, spreading out like he owned the place. “I used my powers of deductive reasoning and decided to try the only room in the house that had a light on.”

“Ever heard of a door?” I quipped sarcastically, knocking his shoe-clad feet off my nice white comforter before he got dirt all over it.

Parker looked over at me, one brow raised as he answered, “I didn’t think your dad would take too kindly to me ringing the doorbell at ten o’clock at night.”

But as usual, that wasn’t a scenario Parker needed to worry about. “My dad’s not home yet.”

Parker’s dark gaze took me in, holding sympathy as well as something else I couldn’t quite place…understanding, maybe? “Does he leave you alone a lot?”

I lowered my head, studying the ground beneath my feet as if it was fascinating; I couldn’t take the pity in his eyes. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.” That wasn’t completely true. While I
was
used to it, it wasn’t fine. I hated coming home to the big, empty, emotionless house. I hated being alone. I hated not hearing my mother’s soft laughter echoing through the halls. But most of all, I hated that my father wasn’t there to wrap me in his arms when the memories became too painful and I needed him to lean on. Sometimes, Parker just wasn’t enough. I needed my dad. However, I kept all of my pain to myself. Not only would trying to talk to my dad be pointless, but there was a part of me that worried about what the extra stress of having to take care of me would do to him. He wasn’t coping with the loss of his wife. He walked around every day a shell of his former self. It scared me to think about how my problems might untether that fragile rope holding his sanity together. I didn’t want to burden him anymore than he already was.

Parker’s fingertips grazed my chin as he tilted it up so I would look at him, sending a spark through my body just from his touch. “You shouldn’t have to get used to that, Freya. No one should ever have to
get used
to being lonely.”

I shook my head, breaking his hold and stepping away. Tears started to well in my eyes and the last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of Parker again. I couldn’t stand the thought of appearing weak in his eyes. I let out a short laugh, hoping it sounded convincing, but doubting it nonetheless.

“Okay, enough with the heavy,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood that seemed to be weighing down the air in my room. “Care to explain why you felt the need to scale my arbor and risk breaking and entering charges?”

He fell back on my bed and propped his hands behind his head, heaving a deep sigh. “Dramatic much? I wasn’t breaking and entering. I just wanted to say ‘hey’ to a friend. I simply decided to take the direct access route as opposed to the front door.”

“Uh-huh,” I replied skeptically as my brow quirked up in amusement. “At ten at night?”

“What can I say? I was bored.” He groaned as he stretched out across my bed. The movement of his arms going over his head caused his t-shirt to ride up just slightly, revealing muscles much more defined than I ever would have imagined. My tongue darted out to try and wet my lips, but my mouth had suddenly grown dry as the desert at the sight of those yummy
V
-shaped muscles trailing down into the waistband of his jeans.