Contagious

Parker was a horrible actress. She knew it and everyone else knew it. That's why she did one stint on Saturday Night Live before humiliating herself any more. She thought it was fun when it was scripted; but her life wasn't scripted. That's why after three hours of sitting next to Paul in her room, working on her paper, he caught on to her passive-aggressive anger.

“Are you mad at me?” Paul asked, setting his pen down on the bed and looking up at Parker.

She sighed and saved her document on her laptop before looking over at him. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Paul, really. I'm fine,” she told him, lying further. She hated to lie but she also hated to fight with her friends...and kind of boyfriend? What was Paul to her, anyway? They only went out once, but still. Did that constitute as something? She rested her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. Fighting gave her a migraine, one she did not need when she still had half a paper to write.

“Is this because I was drunk last night?”

Parker shook her head. “No. Not entirely.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize, Paul. I'm just really tired; I didn't get much sleep after the show and I still have this paper to finish, and I'm just tired,” she told him honestly.

“Would you tell me if you were?” he asked.

“Yes.” No. She smiled, trying to reassure him, before going back to work on her paper.

Paul picked his pen back up, chewing on the cap before writing another paragraph. He studied his scribbles for a few minutes before deciding the paper was as good as it was going to get. He recapped his pen and stuck it in the spiral of his notebook before tossing it onto the floor of Parker's room. He rested his head on his arms, causing his hat to fall to the floor.

Parker looked up at him, briefly, over the top of her laptop. She smiled and shook his head; he was too adorable for words. She glanced back at her screen, her fingertips flying over the keys as if she couldn't get the words out fast enough. And maybe she couldn't. She was in the middle of a witty anecdote about how PCP could be administered to people suffering from a stroke to stop the affects when Paul crawled up beside her, pulling her down from her sitting position until she was slouched next to him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, half laughing and completely curious, her fingertips saving her document without even thinking about it.

Paul smiled and shrugged. He didn't play the innocent card too well.

Parker shifted until she was lying on her back, her laptop on her stomach. Slouching was not her friend. She adjusted the pillow so it supported her head and she went back to working on her paper, finishing the anecdote with a little laugh before continuing with her paper.

“Hey, Parker?” Paul asked, his voice a stage whisper.

She laughed, still typing. “Yes?”

“I think you're pretty.”

She blushed. No, it was more than a simple blush—she turned bright red. She wouldn't have been surprised if her skin was the same vibrant red-orange as her hair. “Shut up, Paul.”

Paul smiled. He would have thought that since she was so used to being in public spotlight, she would have gotten over embarrassment pretty quickly. He was wrong. “You're blushing.”

“Really? Couldn't tell,” she muttered, still typing away. She doubted the words were making any sense but she had to distract herself from the anxiety she was starting to feel whenever Paul was around. She knew he was looking at her, she could tell. “Stop looking at me.”

“But I want to.”

She felt herself laugh and she looked over at him. “Why?”

Paul smiled and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Because I can.”

Parker rolled her eyes. “Smooth talker.”

“I really am sorry about last night,” Paul said, biting at his lip ring. “I don't remember what I said but I can deduce that I was an idiot.”

She laughed. “Not completely.”

“Just a little bit?”

“Just a little bit,” she agreed.

“Forgive me?”

“I suppose I can do that,” she said, nodding thoughtfully.

“Good. Because now I can do this and not feel like a douche,” he said leaning in to brush their lips together.

“Nope. No douche-ness,” she agreed.

Paul smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling him against his chest as their lips met again. It was almost eerie the way the two of them folded into one another, comfortable right from the start, as if they had done it for years. But they hadn't. Paul's fingers traced circles on her hip as their lips moved lazily, as if they had all the time in the world.

+

“I'm still jealous you spent two days in New York,” Orion told Parker as they stood in front of the school Monday morning, a cigarette dangling from her fingers.

Parker rolled her eyes. “Everyone thinks the world of New York but it's just like any other city. Once you've been one hundred or so, they all start to look the same. It's just a lot of buildings and a lot of dirt.”

Orion paused. “You're missing the point. You weren't stuck here in Boston with Dallas,” she said.

“That's true. You make a good point,” Parker said.

“God, when we all party, she gets even worse. She's so uppity. Like, I get it, you don't drink, that doesn't make you better than me. And it's so annoying because she bashes us for getting drunk but then she's all over Martin like white on rice,” Orion muttered.

“Yeah, parties,” she mumbled, distracted by the memory of what Paul said.

Orion's eyes narrowed as she stubbed her cigarette out onto the sidewalk with the toe of her boot. “You talked to Paul, right?”

“You don't beat around the bush, do you?” Parker asked, laughing uncomfortably.

“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “What did he say?”

“Just something stupid about Martin,” she said, shrugging.

Orion smiled. “About Martin. Right.”

“What's that smile for?”

It was Orion's turn to shrug. “What did Paul say?”

“He said Martin always dated red-heads until Dallas. Is that true?”

“Paul's not a liar, Parker. You know him better than me. You should know that,” she told her.

“So it's true,” she mumbled.

Orion sighed. “Look, I don't know if this is going to make you feel worse or better, but yeah, it's true. Freshman and junior year, Martin had upperclassmen dying their hair red just to get his attention. In case you haven't noticed, he's the hot ticket here. Everyone wants him.”

“Everyone but you?” Parker asked.

“No, I'd be all over that if you weren't so hung up on him,” Orion said. “Friends don't do that, yeah?”

“I'm not hung up on him. I'm with Paul,” she said.

“Are you and Paul official?”

Parker sighed. “I hate high school terminology. We're not official official, no, but. You know what I'm trying to say.”

“I know what you're trying to say and I know what you're saying. They're two different things. Either make it official or get with Martin,” Orion said, shrugging. “Option one or two, yeah?”

“One, I'm not getting with Martin. Two, Martin has a girlfriend. Three, Martin has moved on so I am going to do the same. I like Paul. He's adorable and a good kisser,” she said, shrugging. “And I could definitely use the distraction, trust.”

Orion paused. “You kissed Paul?”

“Paul kissed me,” she corrected, unable to fight the smile that was forming on her lips.

Orion smiled slowly. “Minx. I am so proud of you.”

Parker shrugged. “And I'm apparently going to the Valentine's Day dance with him?”

“Ugh, no! No dances, Parker!” Orion said, shaking her head.

“Are you going?”

“Not unless I go with Ross,” she joked, elbowing Parker in the side.

Parker smiled, a plot already forming in her head. “Consider it done.”

Orion paled. “No, Parker, I was just kidding...”

“Nope, you already said it,” Parker said, laughing. “Consider it done.”

+

“So, if I get an F on my paper, can I blame it on you?” Paul asked, walking over to where Parker was leaning against her locker.

Parker's eyebrows rose. “You want to blame your paper on me? I didn't write it!”

“But you said you'd help me!” Paul said.

“I'm sorry I got a little distracted,” Parker said in a mock-serious tone.

Paul smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. “And that's my fault?”

“Yes,” she said. “And I'll blame it on you if I don't get an A on my paper.”

“So it's an A or nothing?”

She nodded. “I won't accept anything less.”

Paul laughed and leaned in, brushing their lips together.

“Pause,” Parker mumbled, looking all around the hallway. “Public displays and all,” she said quietly, shrugging.

Paul looked over her shoulder then behind his own. “No one's around, though, Parks. And the ones who are aren't paying attention.”

She bit her lip, trying not to smile. “You're trying to corrupt me, Poolie,” she said, shaking her head. She looked behind her then over Paul's shoulder, growing tense. She didn't notice Paul leaning down to kiss her until his lips were already against her cheek, the metal of his lip ring cool against her warm cheek. She was too busy watching Martin watch her.

“You okay?” Paul asked, his voice low.

Parker nodded, looking down at her hands before turning towards her locker to grab her books.

Confused, Paul turned around, eyes meeting Martin's. He had never seen his friend look so mad before. He knew it was probably his fault but it wasn't Martin's place to get mad at him because he was trying to kiss his—could he call Parker his girlfriend? He made a mental note to talk to her about it before looking away from Martin. “So you won't kiss me in front of Martin?” he asked.

She sighed. “Paul, it's not like that.”

He nodded slowly. “Then what is it like?”

“I just...I feel awkward kissing you in front of him,” she told him.

“That sounds just as bad, Parker.”

“Paul, you have to understand. Martin and I have a rocky past and...I just don't want to be that girl who shoves a new...kind-of relationship in his face, you know?” she said. “I know I'm explaining it badly, but that's how it's like to me.”

Paul nodded. On one hand, he did understand where she was coming from—he didn't want to hurt Martin, either. But on the other hand, one kiss wasn't going to change the situation. “Okay.”

“And now you're annoyed with me,” Parker said, shutting her locker shut. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Paul said, leaning in to kiss her cheek again. “Let's just get to class, okay?”

She nodded, allowing him to take her hand and lead her down the hallway, past where Martin was standing. She kept her eyes on the ground. She couldn't bare to look at Martin because she knew what he was feeling, what he was thinking, because she thought, and felt, the same way whenever she had to see Martin and Dallas together.

+

“You okay, bro?” Paul asked Martin as they walked to lunch together.

Martin nodded, holding his books at his side. “Yeah.”

Paul sighed. “Look, I know I should have told you about me and Parker but I didn't know how.”

“Using your words would have been nice,” Martin snapped.

“I don't feel guilty, Martin, and you're not going to make me feel bad by being an asshole,” Paul said.

“I'm the asshole?” Martin asked as he stopped walking and turned to face Paul. “You are the one kissing my girlfriend!”

Paul froze and slowly shook his head. “Parker isn't your girlfriend, Martin.”

Martin frowned. “You know what I mean,” he said.

“No, I really don't,” Paul told him. “I know you're upset because you and Parker have a past but you've moved on. You have Dallas. You're over Parker, remember?”

“Just shut up, Paul,” Martin muttered before starting to walk away again.

“No, you don't get to go off on me and just walk away,” Paul said, catching up with him. “What the hell is your problem? You have a girlfriend. You don't get to have it both ways, Martin. What, having every single female in this school want you isn't enough? You want the one girl you can't have? I'm sick of this. You've been manipulating every girl in your life for so long because you want everything. You got Dallas who was pretty much unattainable when she first got here. And now Parker is back and, because she wants nothing to do with her, you want her,” Paul scoffed, shaking his head. “I'm not going to apologize. I've liked her for years and now that she's back, I'm not going to hesitate just because I'm afraid of upsetting you.”

“I'm not upset!” Martin yelled, causing a few people walking by in the hallway to stop and watch them. “I just think you're a shitty friend for moving in on the girl you know I have feelings for.”

“You lost her, Martin. And she doesn't want you back,” Paul said. Sure, he felt like a jerk for throwing Martin's personal business back in his face. But he had been in Martin's shadow for years and he was sick of not going for the girls he was ever interested in because he didn't want to hurt Martin's feelings. He wasn't going to do that anymore. He didn't wait for Martin to reply; he simply walked away.