Stealing Parker (17 page)

“Um, yeah.”

“You were in the equipment shed with Corn Fritter?” Dad asks me.

“Corndog,” Will, Dr. Salter, and I say simultaneously.

“I think we’re through here for now,” the principal announces, standing to shake hands with Dad. “Miss Shelton? Can I talk to you and Coach Hoffman about your baseball managing duties?”

“Yes, sir,” I say, watching Dad and Will file out.

The principal comes out from around his desk. He avoids my gaze and opens his side door to reveal Brian sitting in an armchair, rapping his foot on the floor. He stands and makes his way into Dr. Salter’s office. We sit back down.

“Hi, Coach Hoffman,” I say softly.

“Hey, Parker.”

The principal runs a hand over his head, then sits behind his desk. He raps his paperweight. “I said your stories add up, but I’m afraid I still need to present this to the school board. I’m required to report any accusations against active faculty.”

“Sir—” Brian starts, looking freaked out.

“But Laura hates me,” I interrupt.

Dr. Salter looks at Brian. “If you did nothing wrong, you have nothing to worry about. They won’t find any evidence…right?”

“Evidence?” I ask quietly.

“If the board does an investigation, will they find evidence that you and Coach Hoffman have spoken outside of school activities?” Dr. Salter’s eyes bore into mine. “Have you talked on the phone? Over the Internet? Have you ever gone anywhere together?” He pauses. “If you’re telling me they’ll find nothing, we’ll remove the accusation from the coach’s file. But if there is any reason they might believe something is going on between you two—”

“Sir,” Brian says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What can I do to make this stop right here? I’ll do anything.”

My eyes are watering. I sniffle. “I’ll give up being valedictorian.”

Brian shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that.”

The principal looks from me to Brian, and I know he knows the truth. “Coach, if you resign today, we’ll consider this matter closed.”

Brian doesn’t hesitate. “Done.”

•••

We go into the hallway, where I clutch Dad’s elbow. My teeth are chattering. Will’s hanging his head, and I think he might cry.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” Dad says, shaking Brian’s hand. “I know your parents go to Forrest Sanctuary and that no son of theirs would ever do something wrong like this. My sincerest apologies.”

“Uh, yes, sir.” Brian releases Dad’s hand. Pain covers Brian’s face. “I’m sorry if this misunderstanding embarrassed you and your family, Mr. Shelton.” He heads down the hallway toward his office.

By resigning, Brian basically admitted guilt just now, and if and when people hear the rumors, I bet my family will be more embarrassed than ever.

Dad cups my neck with a hand. “I’m sure your being caught in the equipment shed with Corndog was a one-time occurrence. Right, Parker?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Definitely. A one-time occurrence,” Will mutters, rubbing his eyes.

“We’ll pray about this and your brother later.” Dad shakes his head at me, gives Will a dirty look, and ducks into the bathroom across the hall.

Gee, thanks for the support, Dad. I press a palm to the trophy case and wipe a tear from my face. Brian’s resigning. Because of me. Jobs are hard to come by these days, and I ruined a good opportunity for him. And I lied. I sinned. I’m a terrible person. I miss Mom.

God, where are you? I’m sorry I keep doing these things. Can’t you help me be a good person? Please.

Will’s still standing next to me, silent.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Why won’t you go to prom with me? The truth this time, please.”

“I didn’t say no. I need to take care of some things, I told you that.”

He stares at me sideways. “What are these things?” His voice is rough.

“I need to talk to Drew.”

“And?”

Tears are rolling down my face, and I don’t know what hurts worse: my heart, or that Will isn’t rushing to comfort me. He inches away from me, folding his arms.

“Is it true?” he asks. “What the principal said? About you and Coach Hoffman?”

I look over my shoulder, to make sure no one’s listening. Tears blur my vision. I don’t say anything. That should be enough of an answer for Will, the smartest guy I know.

“I thought you were someone else,” he says. “I came to the conclusion that you weren’t who I thought you were—a girl who gets around with every guy she sees. I thought I had it all wrong. But I guess I was right the first time. You messed with my friends. I don’t know why I was so damned stupid to think I’d be different—”

“But you are different—”

“Don’t.” Will shakes his head. “I’m just glad I never kissed you. Or worse, lost it to you. What a waste that would’ve been, huh?”

I lean against the trophy case. Tears soak my shirt. I feel my makeup melting off. “A waste?” I whisper. I never wanted this for me.

And worse, I threw Will under the bus. For nothing. Brian had to resign anyway.

The bell rings, and students start moving through the halls. Will stays next to me but says nothing. People are pointing at me. That’s when Drew comes rushing up. “What’d you do to her, man?” he asks Will. My best friend pulls me into his arms. I rest my chin on his shoulder. Will slams the glass door open and stalks toward the parking lot.

Dad exits the bathroom. “Parker,” he says quietly. “I love you and care about you, but I don’t want to be called away from work again because you got caught in the equipment shed with Corndog. Understand?”

“What?” Drew whispers. “You what?”

“Yes, Dad,” I say, sniffling, and he leaves, not looking back at me.

Drew’s face falls. “You lied to me? You’re really fooling around with him?”

“Corndog only pretended that,” I exclaim. “To cover for me. With Brian.” I move to fall back into Drew’s arms, but he scoots away from me. “We’ve never hooked up or kissed or anything.”

“You were messing around with both of them? Did you use Corndog to cover up who you’re really interested in?”

“No, no.” I reach for him again, but he steps backward. “Will lied. To help me. To help Brian.”

“I can’t believe you,” he whispers. “I stuck by you. Through everything. All your mood swings and cutting out the world. I told people you weren’t a freak. I told them you were shy and cared about school.”

“Drew—”

“And I told you my secret,” he whispers. “And then you took it from me.” His big brown eyes go glossy.

“Drew, that’s not what happened. Can you list—”

“Everything with you is such bullshit. You probably got Tate to talk to me so you could have Will all to yourself. Right?”

I tried to be a good friend…And now he won’t even listen. I had a chance with Will. I turned down a date to prom. A real date with a real guy who truly wanted me. All for a friend who won’t even hear me out.

I don’t have anything.

“I’ll see you later, then,” I whisper, and decide to skip school today. I leave to go home.

Wherever that is.

I run into Laura, Allie, and Mel on the way to the bike rack. They start whispering. So I start shouting.

“Thanks for turning me into Dr. Salter, Laura. I’ll pray for you. Lord knows you’d never do it for me because you’re so jealous. Judge thy neighbor, eh?”

They shut up and stare at me. I’ve never said anything like that before. And you know what? I didn’t get struck by lightning. I don’t even feel guilty.

I tell my eyes to stop crying. Fat chance of that.

“Don’t call me again.”

Will hung up on me.

When I called Drew, he sounded like he was choking on his tears. “I can’t talk to you right now. I really can’t. Bye.”

When I called Brian, no answer.

He quit his job. Because of something I basically forced him into, something I was ready to give up the moment I had feelings for Will. Brian’s right. I am immature. I try calling his cell, but he doesn’t pick up. He’s not on Skype, and he defriended me on Facebook! And after a couple of hours, he doesn’t return any of my emails. It’s after 6:00 p.m., so I open the church directory I stole and find his parents’ address. I Google map directions, and I’m on my bike and pedaling down the road in less than a minute.

At his house, I locate the stairs leading to the apartment above the garage, then lean my bike against a tree. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans, take a quick look around the neighborhood to make sure no one sees me, then quietly climb the steps. I knock and knock and knock. I knock until my knuckles feel raw.

“He’s not here,” a man calls out from down below. I recognize him from the Forrest Sanctuary church directory. Mr. Hoffman.

“When will he be back?” I ask.

The man lifts both shoulders. “He went to Birmingham to visit a friend. I’m not sure when he plans to come back. He said he quit his job over at the high school. Any idea why?”

He left without saying good-bye? Without checking to make sure I was okay?

I’m nobody.

My mom left me.

My dad thinks I’m a big fat sinner.

My brother is on another plane of existence.

Drew’s angry with me.

Will…

Nothing. I’m nothing.

“You go to Forrest Sanctuary, right?” Mr. Hoffman asks, narrowing his eyes at me. “David Shelton’s daughter?”

“Yes, sir.” My hands shake.

“Can I give Brian a message?”

“No message.”

I turn and make my way down the steps and climb on my bike before anyone else sees I’m here. I pedal home, where I find Ryan curled up in a ball on the living room couch.

“Hi,” I say to him.

“Yo.” He rests his head on a cushion, not bothering to ask about my face. My tears.

Dad’s sitting in his armchair, reading the Bible. He looks up at me and shakes his head, then goes back to reading. Bags hang under his eyes.

“I wish you hadn’t given up on Veena so quickly,” I tell Dad.

He jerks his head up and finds my eyes. “What happened with Veena is none of your business. I prayed about it.”

“Prayer doesn’t solve everything, Dad. It’s not going to solve Ryan’s problems. Or mine. You had a good thing with Veena, but you’re so damned stubborn, and you have to listen to everything the people at church say. You only gave up because they told you to. I’m sorry you’ll keep on being lonely like this.”

Dad takes off his glasses and runs a hand over his Bible.

I focus on my brother. “And Ryan? I’m feeling shitty. Thanks for asking. And no, I’m not making you dinner tonight. Make it your damned self.”

He doesn’t open his eyes.

I stalk down the hall to my room, and without bothering to put on pajamas, I crawl under my covers and cry, cry, cry. Brian quit his job. Because of me. I might drown in the guilt. Neither Dad nor Ryan knocks on the door. I don’t get any texts. Drew doesn’t come over to read
Cosmo
with me. Will doesn’t show up by way of a lawnmower.

“Please, God,” I whisper. “Please. Tell me what to do. Please.” I clear my head of all thoughts. I imagine how good it feels to swing at a pitch. To connect. To send a line drive over the second baseman’s head.

God, please.

My cell beeps. I jump. Look at the text from Mom. It reads:
I love you. Night.

Suck in air. Hesitate. I can do this. Squinting through my tears, I dial her number. It rings. She picks up.

“Mom,” I cry.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I need you.”

She sucks in a breath. “I’m leaving now. I can be there in three hours.”

•••

Mom wakes me the next morning.

Her light brown hair hangs loosely around her shoulders, and her lips are painted a pale pink. She’s as beautiful as ever, but something’s different. She’s glowing. She’s happy.

“French toast?” she asks, rubbing my shoulder.

I love the smells wafting into my room. Fresh coffee. Eggs. Bacon. “No, thanks,” I reply. I don’t deserve French toast.

“How about you take a shower, and then we’ll get you some breakfast before your game,” Mom says, threading my hair between her fingers.

“I’m not going,” I reply, focusing on her beautiful face. It makes me feel better already. “How’d you know about the game?”

“Your brother told me you’re managing, and I found the schedule on the refrigerator.”

“I didn’t even know he and Dad noticed.”

She pushes hair off my forehead. “Why aren’t you going to the game? I’d love to come with you.”

Thinking of baseball makes me remember Brian and Drew and Will and Laura, and that makes the tears start up again. I cry so hard and for so long Mom has to get a towel from the bathroom because Kleenex isn’t doing the trick. She doesn’t press me, doesn’t do anything but rub my back and kiss my head.

“Did you bring your dog? Annie?” I ask, sniffling.

“She stayed home with Theresa. She’s a real sweet puppy—I hope you’ll come meet her sometime soon.”

“Mom? I’m sorry…for how I’ve acted. For not calling and all.”

For
judging
you. For not thinking about your feelings.

Mom pats my knee. “No apology needed. I understand. I’m glad you called,” she whispers. “I hate to think of you crying alone. What happened?”

I sniffle. Mucus clogs my throat. “When you hear what I did, you’ll hate me.”

“Impossible. Do you want to get out of the house and go for a walk before the game?”

“I’m quitting managing.”

“You’re no quitter.”

“I already quit softball, you know.”

“So you took a couple seasons off. Nothing wrong with that.”

“You shouldn’t be so forgiving. I’m an awful person.” I let out a sob.

“You’re one of the best people I know, Parker. You’re compassionate and you love so hard.”

“You don’t know me anymore.”

“People don’t change that much. You’re still the same loving Christian girl I’ve always known.”

“How can you care about being a Christian after what happened with church? With what you did?”

“God still loves me,” Mom replies quietly. “And He loves you too.”

“Laura and Brother John said that—”

“Nothing they’ve ever said matters,” Mom interrupts. “All that matters is your personal relationship with God.”

“God hates me,” I whisper, falling onto my pillow.

“I doubt that, but you need to work that out on your own. And no matter what, no matter what you’ve done, I’ll never stop loving you, okay?”

I look up at her. “I love you too.”

“I quit going to church,” Mom admits quietly, averting her eyes.

“Why?”

“I can talk to God while I’m walking the dog or running in the woods just the same as if I’m at church.”

I never thought of it that way. I guess it’s true that I write to God all the time, He just doesn’t listen. Or maybe He is, but He’s telling me what I don’t want to hear. I don’t have to be at church to do that.

“What did Dad say when you showed up?” I ask.

“He said that you’ve been ‘engaging in inappropriate activities with a guy named Corn Fritter.’” Mom laughs silently and shakes her head.

“Corndog. Will Whitfield.”

“Isn’t that the boy who drives you crazy? Always trying to beat you in school?”

“That’s the one.”

“Are you dating him now?”

“No.” Fresh tears stream down my face. Mom pulls me into her arms and rocks me. “I wish I were though.”

“Does he like you back?”

“He did…but I did something stupid. But you can’t tell Dad or anyone,” I mutter.

“I promise I won’t say a thing.”

Mom’s face never changes as I tell her about Brian and Will and Drew, but I can tell she’s upset because she squeezes my hand harder during the bad parts, like how I got myself involved with the coach of the baseball team.

“Did you sleep with him?” she whispers.

“No,” I say, shaking my head.

“We should get you a doctor’s appointment anyway. You’re old enough that you need to go.”

“Okay.”

“We should probably get you on birth control too.”

Holy embarrassment. “I won’t be needing it.”

“You should be prepared, just in case. I was seventeen once.” Mom’s mouth twitches in amusement, then goes back to sadness. “And you’re sure Dr. Salter isn’t planning a formal investigation?”

“He said he wouldn’t if Brian resigned. It’s all my fault.” The tears won’t stop. If I hadn’t pursued Brian like I did…

“I’ll call Dr. Salter here in a bit to make sure nothing will fall back on you. Brian is an adult and should’ve known better.” Mom clutches my hand. “He shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. This isn’t all your fault, okay?”

“I messed everything up,” I cry. “I lost Drew.”

“So Drew is angry with you because of Will?”

“Right. But I’m mad at him too. He wouldn’t even listen to me.”

“I’m gonna tell you something that took me forty-two years to figure out.” She traces the spiral pattern on my duvet. “Sometimes you gotta do what’s right for you and forget about everybody else. All that matters is what you want. What you need.”

What I had wanted was Brian, and look how that turned out. “That doesn’t seem very Christian-like.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But you only live once, and if something feels right to you and you want it, you should go after it.”

“Is that why you left us?” I cry. If she hadn’t left, things would be okay. Maybe Will and I would’ve fallen in love.

“I never meant to hurt you,” Mom replies, sounding so sad. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t done what I did, because losing you was the worst punishment possible.” Her eyes close.

Mom did what she felt was right for her. Maybe it’s about knowing what you want and going after it––and being willing to pay the consequences when everyone else thinks it’s wrong.

“You didn’t lose me,” I say, hugging her as tightly as I can. And if God’s watching us, maybe he’s saying,
Sure, a bunch of shit had to happen, but a mother and daughter are back together
. A mother can love her daughter even if she’s been sinning like it’s going out of style. A daughter can love her mother even if she acted selfishly.

“I hurt Will so bad,” I mumble, rubbing my face. It stings.

She pauses for a long moment. “Do you like him a lot?”

It felt like more than like. Something more, something real. Something like love. But now it’s gone.

•••

After I told Mom about Ryan’s trip to the ER and what’s been happening with him, her face went white, her eyes glossed over, and she stalked off to find Dad. They’ve spent a good hour talking in the dining room, using hushed voices. Ryan and I are sitting in the living room, trying to eavesdrop, pretending to watch TV, glancing at each other from time to time.

I miss Ryan. I wish he had noticed I disappeared with Brian, and had come to save me like that time I got lost at Opryland when I wanted to drive a Tin Lizzie. Ever since Mom left us, I’ve cooked his meals. I’ve done his laundry. He needed me to rescue him, while I kept waiting on him to save me again.

“You should’ve called me!” Mom says to Dad, and I see my brother cringe. He shuts his eyes. He never meant for this to happen, I know he didn’t. Like me, he didn’t know how to deal. He couldn’t get the perfection back. So he changed for the worse. We both did.

I move from the love seat to the sofa where Ryan’s sitting and wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder. He rubs my back and presses his face against my hair.

•••

Nobody talks to me at school on Monday.

Everybody’s too busy talking about me.

As if I don’t feel guilty enough.

When I walk through the hall between classes, I hear my name. Brian’s name.

“I heard she was sleeping with him,” says a younger guy I don’t know.

“Laura caught them doing it in the equipment shed!” says another.

“We lost our coach because of her,” Paul says to Jake Sanders. “I can’t believe we’re stuck with the damned music teacher the rest of the season.”

“She’ll mess around with
anybody
,” Matt Higgins tells Kristen Markum.

Dr. Salter calls me to his office after third period. He’s playing with his paperweight again. “I’ve asked the faculty not to discuss Coach Hoffman’s resignation with the students, but I’ve been hearing rumors all morning. Do you want to speak with the guidance counselor?”

“No, thank you,” I tell him, bowing my head.

“I don’t have any evidence anything actually happened…but I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, quietly.

“I hope this dies down before graduation. I’d hate to have these rumors be the focus of graduation, rather than your valedictory speech and the other students’ accomplishments.”

When I peek up at his face, he swallows and looks out the window.

At lunchtime, I take a deep breath, and dragging my fingers across the white concrete walls, I head toward the cafeteria. I push the double doors open to find Will and Drew sitting together. I slowly walk to their table.

“I’m really sorry,” I whisper.

Will scrunches his forehead, stands, and leaves the cafeteria without saying a word, abandoning his sandwich, chips, and apple.

I sit down across from Drew. He’s still here. I hope that means he’s willing to forgive me. Or at least let me explain that nothing was happening with Will.

“Drew,” I say quietly. “I realize I’ve hurt you, but I need you to know I didn’t hook up with Will. I swear I didn’t.”

He starts tearing up his paper napkin. “I’m just glad I didn’t tell you that Corndog was interested in you.”

I close my mouth to swallow. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”