Contagious

“So...there's been a little change in plans before the dance,” Paul started, meeting Parker at her locker the day before the dance. His hat was pulled over his forehead, blocking his eyes, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He was uncomfortable, that much was clear.

Parker shut her locker slowly, slipping the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Meaning...?”

“Martin and Dallas want to share a limo and go to dinner before...with us,” he told her.

“Ah,” she muttered, nodding slowly. “That was expected.”

“You're not angry?”

She shrugged. “I expected it,” she repeated.

Paul nodded. “So, I guess we'll pick you and Martin up at five-thirty since you live right across from one another. And then we'll go to Olive Garden and—“

“We're going to Olive Garden?!” Parker asked, her voice raising an octave.

Paul paused. “...do I want to answer that?”

“You want to answer that.”

“Yes, we're going to Olive Garden?”

“Hell yes!” Parker spun around in a circle before throwing her arms around Paul's neck and kissing him quickly. “Olive Garden can make anything better, I assure you. It's my reason for living.” She paused. “Besides singing.”

Paul laughed. “So, uh, you're okay with the change in plans, then?”

She shrugged. “I'll put up with anything if that means I get Olive Garden.”

“If you say so,” he said, shrugging and wrapping his arms around her back before she could step away. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

“Getting my beauty rest for tomorrow,” she told him sarcastically.

Paul laughed. “Because I was thinking we could watch a movie or something.”

“A movie would be great, Poolie. What do you wanna watch?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It doesn't matter, Parks, as long as you're there.”

She flushed slightly, looking down at the battered Converse on her feet before looking up at him through her freshly re-dyed bangs. She laughed a little bit before pushing her bangs out of her face, attempting to push them behind her ear and failing—the layers were just a little too short. “Lame,” she told him. “So, so lame.”

+

Parker fidgeted at the foot of the stairs. Her feet were already killing her due to the four inch black suede heels Orion had forced upon her earlier and she felt like a fool. She was never the type of person to wear dresses unless she absolutely had to and she always felt out of place when she did. She pulled on her only dress coat, a black faux leather jacket, and she held her clutch tightly in her hands.

“You look nice,” her mother told her, walking into the room.

Parker shrugged. “Thanks.”

“I wish you would've let me fix your hair, though,” she said, running her fingers over Parker's bright red bangs.

She shrugged again. The most she did was straighten it and pin most of it back with a black headband, allowing her bangs to fall forward. If she was going to spend the whole night feeling awkward in a dress with people she didn't really like, then she was going to at least let one part of her feel normal. “It looks fine, mom.”

Her mother nodded slowly before raising her camera. “Just one picture?”

Parker laughed. “Please, no, mom. Paul's mom is going to be getting enough pictures.”

Her mother frowned. “Well, I hope she'll e-mail them to me.”

“I'll make sure she does,” she promised. There was a knock on the door and she rolled her eyes. “That'll be Martin.”

“I thought you were going with Paul?”

“I am. But the limo is picking me and Martin up first, then we're going to go get Dallas and Paul. At least, I think that's the plan,” she muttered, shrugging. She frowned and walked over to the door, opening it. Her eyes widened. She always knew Martin cleaned up well but knowing and seeing where two different things. He looked amazing. She shook her head and scolded herself internally. “Hi.”

Martin smiled and awkwardly adjusted his red tie. “The limo should be here any minute,” he told her. “You look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” Parker said quietly, a small flush finding its way across her collarbone.

“You're welcome.”

All was silent after that. Parker stared at her feet while Martin looked anywhere but at the girl in front of him. Her mother exited the room slowly, leaving the two of them alone. Parker walked around him and stared out the front window. She really wanted the limo to arrive soon so they could get Dallas and Paul so she could stop feeling so awkward. It was difficult to be stuck alone in a room with Martin, especially after what happened the last time.

“Parker, can we talk?” Martin asked.

She looked back at him, hazel eyes wide. “About?”

Martin sighed and he set the corsage he held down on the stairs. He brushed his palms over the front of his pants before picking the flower up again. “I think we need to talk about the kiss.”

“We don't,” she told him, looking back out the window. “It's done and it's not happening again. Consider the subject dropped.”

“Parker—“

“No, Martin. The limo is here. Let's go,” she told him. “Mom! We're leaving!”

“Have fun, honey!”

“Hope so,” she muttered before opening the front door and walking out. She climbed into the limo slowly, refusing to sprain her ankle, and she sat as far away from Martin as she could.

It was going to be a very long night.

+

“Paul, your mother was merciless with the camera,” Parker mumbled, lacing her fingers with his as they walked back to the limo.

Paul smiled, raising her hand to brush his lips across her knuckles. “It was either a massive amount of pictures or spending ten extra minutes with Dallas and Martin in the limo.”

She paused before nodding. “True. However, I don't think I've ever had that many pictures taken of me in quick succession.”

“Not even on the red carpet?”

She rolled her eyes, elbowing him in the side lightly as he opened the door to the limo. She climbed in and instantly felt the atmosphere change. Dallas and Martin were sitting on the other side, hand in hand, his tie matching her red dress. She knew Dallas wasn't exactly pleased about the four of them going together and, hell, Parker wasn't exactly elated either, but she was trying to make the best of it.

“Did your mom take a million pictures like she normally does, Paul?” Martin asked, trying to keep the mood light.

“Of course she did,” Paul said, laughing, before he pulled his own digital camera out of the pocket of his black suit. “And I have my own to document the night with hundreds of candids of my own.”

Parker rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you're kidding, Poolie.”

“Nope! Just one more trait I got from my mother, I guess,” he said, shrugging. The dim lights in the limo danced on the silver of his lip ring as he pushed his hair out of his face.

“Aren't you used to the paparazzi by now, Parker?” Dallas asked, a sarcastic smile on her face. One hand reached up to smooth her hair back, her nails as red as her dress and lipstick. She seemed to be the only one who completely dolled herself up, at least, in comparison to Parker's chipped nail polish, half-straightened hair, and minimal make up. But she did look good.

Parker looked over at her and shrugged. She wasn't going to bend to the mindless taunts. “Doesn't mean I have to like it, I guess.”

Dallas scoffed. “Please, girls like you love every bit of attention they can get.”

Parker bit the inside of her cheek.

“What the hell does that mean?” Paul asked.

Dallas shrugged. “Whatever you want it to mean, Poolie,” she mocked.

“Hey, now,” Parker said, shaking her head. “First of all, only I can call him Poolie. Second of all, I'm not the biggest fan of any sort of attention. And third of all, let's all try to have fun, yeah? Put the immaturity and insults behind us and just...have fun. Okay?”

“I can do that,” Paul said, nodding.

“Good. You two?” Parker asked, eyes wide and expecting as she looked across the limo.

“Sure,” Martin muttered, nudging Dallas. “You, babe?”

Dallas sighed. “Fine.”

+

“So I'm still really embarrassed that I asked you to come to the dance while I was drunk,” Paul admitted, slowly wrapping his arms around Parker's waist.

Parker laughed and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. The beat of the music was soft, everyone slowing down from earlier songs, and barely moving across the make-shift dance floor that was the gym. She tilted her head back, eyes falling on heart-shaped decorations and red streamers that decorated the room and she shrugged. “I would've said yes even if you were sober.”

“You would have?” Paul asked.

“Maybe,” she admitted, laughing.

Paul shook his head, a smile on his lips.

Parker looked up at him and shrugged. “Okay, fine, I would have.”

“Good,” he said quietly. He watched her for a minute without saying anything, letting the small chatter and the voice from the speakers fill the silence between the two of them. “Did I tell you that you look really pretty tonight?”

Parker felt herself laugh and blush at the same time. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You clean up nicely yourself.”

Paul smiled, carelessly shrugging one shoulder. “I try.” He glanced down at his suit before laughing. “Okay, not really. I just threw on the only suit I have and I didn't really try with my hair. Though it doesn't matter because it will never, ever listen when I tell it to behave. It just flies everywhere.”

“You're insane,” she told him through laughter.

“You really do look amazing—“

“Can I cut in?”

Paul stopped moving and looked over at Martin. “Are you serious?”

“Please,” Martin said, voice quiet.

Paul looked at Parker. “Um...”

“Please?”

“It's up to Parker,” Paul said, shrugging. “I don't make her decisions for her.”

Martin looked down at Parker, biting his lip. “Please, Parker?”

Parker sighed and before she could respond, she was yanked out of Paul's embrace and found herself wrapping one arm around Martin's neck. He grabbed her other hand and she could feel her heart rate speed up and tried to ignore how perfectly their hands fit together. She kept telling herself it was all in her head.

“Can we talk about the kiss now?”

“Martin—“

“No, let me say something first,” Martin told her. “I thought I was over you. I thought three years was enough time but it wasn't. I'm not over you, Parker.”

“Well, I find that hard to believe considering, from what I've heard, you've constantly had a girlfriend. So I'm sure you must be over me in some way,” Parker said, keeping her voice low. She knew Paul was around and this was not a fight she wanted anyone to hear.

“That doesn't mean they meant anything to me, Parker,” Martin said.

“Does Dallas mean anything to you?”

Martin sighed. “Of course she does.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

“Because I thought...” he trailed off and shook his head.

“We can't keep doing this, Martin. You can't say you're over me and then you're not. You have a girlfriend and I have Paul. And I'm happy with him because he makes me forget how shitty you constantly make me feel,” Parker told him.

“This isn't you, Parker,” Martin said. “This isn't you. The real you would... I just... God, I feel like I don't know you anymore.”

Parker stopped moving and took a step back. “Maybe you don't.”

“Never before have I met someone who is as psychotic as you,” Martin told her. “You infuriate me like no other, Parker. I'm trying to be honest with you!”

“What do you want me to say, Martin? That I'm not over you? Because it doesn't matter. I'm moving on and I'm happy now. And I'm sorry if you're miserable but I'm not going to turn my life upside down for you,” Parker told him, her temper rising. She jerked her hand out of Martin's and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I guess I don't know you anymore,” Martin muttered.

Parker shrugged one shoulder. “Then consider us strangers.”

”And the king and queen of the Valentine's Day dance are Dallas Spalding and Martin Johnson!”

Parker scoffed. “And you wanna give up your perfect life?” she asked, sarcastic. “Just stay away, Martin. Just give it up because I don't have the energy for this anymore,” she told him before walking off.