Contagious

Parker tried to sleep through her three alarms the next morning in an attempt to skip school. But her parents saw right through it. She took her time getting ready, pulling on her every day uniform of skinny jeans, a band tee (Taking Back Sunday this time), an old sweatshirt she stole (or “borrowed” from Ross), and her old Chucks. She didn't bother with her hair, realizing long ago that only stylists seemed to be able to tame it and make it look halfway decent; her uneven layers were sticking up at all ends so she just threw a sweatband on and went with that.

Eight o'clock came too soon and Parker found herself standing in front of the school. She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around her middle, her bag resting on the sidewalk by her feet. She grimaced. How was she going to survive five more months of this place? Her classes were long and mundane, filled with information on subjects she was already familiar with. The food was mediocre at best (if she could stomach Ross' sad excuse for an omelet, then she should have, in theory, been able to eat anything—she just hadn't yet mastered the skill of digesting cardboard). The people around her were rude and immature, throwing around the word “fag” as if it were synonymous with “bro” and not caring how horribly offensive it was (and Parker took it personally since she and her band mates had participated in the NO H8 campaign).

She couldn't believe her luck. And this time, she wasn't in awe at how wonderful life could be, no, this time she was in shock. Two nights prior she had been on stage in New York City, playing her scrappy little heart out to ten thousand screaming fans, and now she was in Boston. Boring, plain Boston where the accents hurt her ears (considering she had dropped hers months before since she hadn't been there in...well, a long time). Boston, where it was too cold for her liking and had all the wrong people.

Like Martin.

She clenched her hands into fists by her side just thinking about him. Stupid Martin with his stupid hair and stupid eyes; Martin who always said the wrong thing and made Parker feel like a fool. And she did feel like a fool—for any part of her that held any sort of hope that Martin would feel even slightly bad about their last encounter was gone. And she was glad they hadn't kept in touch because she could barely stand the sight of him. He had a girlfriend and she was still mending a heart that had been broken for the past three years. Nothing was ever going to happen, she was sure of that. She wasn't going to fall for his tricks again. And if she could survive the next five months, she was fully prepared to go on with her life and forget all about him.

“Don't look so happy, Parker.”

She was shaken out of her daydream by Orion nudging her side. Parker smiled slightly. “I'd liken this place to hell but it's too cold for that.”

Orion laughed and took a drag from her cigarettes, blowing the smoke into the wind. “So, uh. What's going on with you and that guy who picked you up yesterday?”

That was one thing Parker could already respect about Orion—she didn't beat around the bush. If she had a question, she asked it. She didn't waste time trying to find the right way to say it or worry about the other person's feelings. “Ross?”

Orion nodded. “If that's the hot guy's name, sure.”

“Nothing,” she told her, laughing. “He's my best friend, band mate, that's it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is that what they're calling it these days?”

Parker laughed. “Naw, that'd be too weird. He's like a brother to me.”

“Cool,” Orion said, taking another drag from her cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. “So. You and Martin?”

She choked on air and hoped Orion didn't see the faint blush that was spreading across her cheeks and the back of her neck. “What about him?” she asked, nonchalant, as she picked up her bag and followed her friend into the school.

“C'mon, there's sexual tension there and you know it,” she told her easily.

Parker bit back a reply of been there, done that and simply shrugged. “We just, uh, didn't have the best goodbye before I left for tour. I guess we're both still bitter about how we left things.”

“So fix them,” Orion said.

“It's not always that simple.”

“No,” Orion said, shaking her head, “things are that simple. People just complicate them.”

Parker shrugged. “That's true. But I don't know if I want to fix them.”

“Because he has a girlfriend?”

“Why do you think this has something to do with Dallas?” she asked.

Orion shrugged. “I know my cousin, unfortunately, and she was staring at you as if she wanted to break a bottle on your face, you know?”

“Okay...?”

“She thinks you're a threat,” Orion said simply. “I can tell. Girls always talk to Martin and she never gets like that because she knows they don't stand a chance. But you, you're different.”

Parker sighed. “I hate how people say different like it's a disease and they'll catch it or something.”

Orion laughed. “Naw, they're just jealous. Either way. You've known him pretty much his whole life, know things about him that she doesn't. She's jealous.”

Parker shrugged. “I don't want Martin. She has nothing to worry about,” she said. And as she said it, she couldn't believe the lies that were falling past her lips any more than Orion could.

“Sure.”

+

Even though you're gone and far away,
I feel you all around.
I think about it every single day,
You got away somehow.

Martin shook his head and hummed the melody under his breath, tapping his pen against his notebook in rhythm with the words. He sighed, shaking his head, glancing at the date at the top of the page. He always documented when he wrote his lyrics—day, month, year, time of day, other thoughts running through his head. The lyrics in question were from two years ago, after Parker's first tour. Of course they were about her, the entire notebook in front of him was. Sighing in frustration, he sat up on his bed. Things were fine. Things were great. Everything was running smoothly until she came back.

“Why did you have to come back, Parks?” he asked quietly to no one in particular. There was a knock on his bedroom door and he groaned. “What do you want?”

“It's Paul. Bro, it's almost eight, we gotta get to school.”

Frowning, Martin stood up and pulled on his black track jacket (one of the only ones Dallas hadn't managed to steal yet—he liked her well enough and all but girl had to stop stealing all of his favorite jackets), shoving the notebook in his bag, and throwing the strap over his shoulder. He grabbed his aviators from his desk and slid them on, opening the door and almost falling into his best friend. “Close much?”

Paul rolled his eyes. “What's with you? You're always ready on time.”

Martin shrugged, following his friend down the stairs and to his car. He was silent the entire way to school. Normally they would stop and pick up Dallas but she had to be at school early that morning—the student government was organizing another ridiculous fund-raiser that no one cared about. He was thankful—his mind was still reeling from dealing with Parker the day before and he didn't need to hear Dallas asking him over and over if he was okay, if he had feelings for her, and they would be okay, right?

They pulled int the parking lot and Martin's eyes landed on Parker—it was hard to miss her; her hair stuck out clear as day in the gray sky. A smile landed on his lips before he could stop himself. It was just like the old days—Parker staring up at the huge building, almost as if she was intimidated, her hair sticking out in every direction. Martin remembered how he used to be able to get away with messing it up further. But that was before she left. And that was before everything changed.

+

”Martin! Stop messing up my hair!” Parker screamed, punching Martin as hard as an eleven year old girl could (which wasn't that hard).

Martin laughed, leaning over and covering his hands in mud again and rubbing them over her hair.

Parker groaned in frustration—she wasn't going to be able to stop him. She remembered what her mother said, 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em' and she leaned over, cupping mud in her hand before throwing it at Martin.

Martin paused, a smile on his face. “Now you're getting it, Parks!” he shouted to be heard over the roaring thunder. It rarely stormed that bad in Boston but they were under a thunderstorm warning and both of them sneaked out of their houses (though they suspected their parents knew anyway) to play in the mud.

“You better start running, Martin,” she told him, picking up another handful of mud before throwing it at her best friend.

Martin acted shocked and started running down the street, Parker following him without missing a beat. He looked over his shoulder briefly to see Parker running as fast as she could, her shorter legs causing the distance between them to grow, and he slowed down just a little as his house came into view. Running out of breath, he collapsed on the ground, waiting for Parker to come near and he grabbed her leg, causing her to fall on top of him. He laughed.

“You stupid jerk,” Parker mumbled, running her hands over his face, leaving trails of mud down his cheeks.

“Hey! I didn't do that to you,” Martin said, pouting.

She shrugged and rolled off of him, sitting up. It was starting to rain a little bit harder and she looked up at the sky. “I wonder what it would be like to get struck by lightning.”

“I hope neither one of us ever find out,” Martin said, sitting up as well. “But your hair would look like this,” he told her before reaching for her hair that was damp from the rain and smoothing it out to the sides, causing it to stick up all around her face.

Parker rolled her eyes. “You're not funny, Martin. Stop messing up my hair,” she said, trying to smooth it back down.

Martin grabbed her hand. “No, you look cute like that.”

Parker flushed slightly and looked back up at the rain clouds. “Do you think we'll get a tornado?”

“No,” he said, looking up at the clouds briefly. “Mom says the clouds are supposed to...like, make a circle or something and I don't see any circles up there.”

“I guess that's a good thing. It would just be exciting.”

“Just because something isn't dangerous doesn't mean it's not exciting,” Martin said softly.

Parker's eyes fell back on her best friend. “Why so deep?” she joked, poking his shoulder.

Martin shook his head and just stared at his best friend. Raindrops were clinging to her dark eyelashes around her hazel eyes, her cheeks slightly pink from running, her over-sized shirt and shorts were soaked through with water. Mud was clinging to her hair and her hands. Any other girl would have been running inside to shower and put on clean clothes, but Martin knew even then that Parker wasn't like the other girls.

“Is there mud on my face?” Parker asked, rubbing at her cheeks.

“No,” he told her. “You look good.”

Parker rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder. “We should probably get headed inside,” she told him.

Martin nodded and stood up, reaching his hands out to help her up. She lost her footing and fell into his chest. Without thinking, Martin pressed his lips against hers. One second passed, then five, then ten before Parker found herself pulling away, hazel eyes wide, cheeks burning. “I—I'm sorry,” Martin stuttered.

Parker shook her head. “What was that? Why did you do that?”

“I just... I just wanted to try it,” Martin said, the excuse sounding more stupid when he said it aloud. But it was true—he did want to try it. He saw his parents do it all the time and didn't see the big deal.

“Oh,” she said, fingertips finding her lips. She was about to respond when she heard her mother call from her house across the street. She looked at her mother, then back at Martin. “I have to... I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow, Martin,” she said, starting to walk away.

“Bye, Parker,” he muttered quietly.

She walked across the street slowly before pausing and turning around. “Hey, Martin?!” she called.

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“No hard feelings about getting mud all over you, right?” she asked, her eyes shining.

He smiled. “No hard feelings.”

+

That was Parker for you. She was accustomed to brushing things off, saying everything was okay, no hard feelings, rather than actually talking something out. Martin shook his head as Paul pulled the car to a stop, the memories fading to the back of his mind as Parker walked inside. There was no way he would ever forget that September day but he had no doubt that Parker did.

“Bro, you're out of it,” Paul noted, laughing, shaking his head and climbing out of his car.

Martin shrugged and followed Paul into the building. “I guess.”

“So what were you working on this morning?” Paul asked, shoving some books into his locker.

“Just a song I've been working on for a while,” he told him. It was the truth. He just wasn't telling him the whole story.

“Is it any good? We could use some more material,” he joked, grabbing his science book.

“I don't know,” Martin said, his thoughts drifting as Parker and Orion walked by him. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before she scowled and looked away. Martin sighed.

Paul followed his eyes and shook his head. “Bro, what happened between you two?”

Martin knew the tone in Paul's voice was that of 'tell me because I'm doing to find out anyway and don't lie to me this time' but he didn't know how to start. “We just...left off badly before she left for tour, you know?”

Paul just stared at him. “You're my best friend, Martin. And I'm not going to ignore Parker because you two aren't speaking. I'm going to talk to her and be her friend again. Now you can either do the same or not, it's up to you, but I'd really like to know what's going on. You're distant. And if you think you can keep Dallas from asking the same thing, you're wrong. She's a bitch but she's observant and she'll make the connection that you got distracted when Parker showed up. And then the shit will hit the fan,” he explained to his best friend, leaning against the locker.

Martin sighed. “I know. I know,” he assured him. “But she doesn't want to be my friend.”

“How do you know that?”

“She told me. And it might not have been explicit but I know Parker better than anyone. And she meant it,” Martin said.

“So give her a reason to take it back. You two have never stayed mad at each other for long, Martin,” Paul said.

“It's different this time.”

“How so?”

“Because she broke my heart when she left,” Martin told him simply, voice void of all the emotion that was building up inside of him. It might have been easy for Paul to be around her and try to be friends, but Martin knew it would be impossible for them. They could never been friends. And he would always hope for something more.