Page 21

Chapter 21

6:29

Three Years Earlier

Parker

My eyelids flutter open. I reach out, expecting to find Brandon next to me. My fingers curl around my pillow, and with a start, I realise I’m back in my own bed. No sand. No stars. No Brandon.

My laptop lies open next to me, and I blink as my eyes adjust to the light.

Today: 6:29am

Dodger14

I’ve written and deleted this a hundred times. Not just tonight. Other nights. All the other nights, actually.

Dodger14

The thing is, Parker. I care about you a lot. I know you already know that. Our friendship is the most important thing in my life. But there are times when I think about you in a different way. A way that’s more than friends.

Dodger14

I was never going to act on it. I was going to get over it. Because I’d never do anything to risk us.

Dodger14

But after tonight, I had to tell you.

I didn’t want to be your best friend and have you not know.

Even if there’s no chance

Dodger14

Now’s the part where you tell me there’s not no chance.

ParkerDiRocky

I feel sick.

Dodger14

I’ll let the Senator know that our birth year is a poor vintage.

ParkerDiRocky

It’s nothing to do with the drink.

Dodger14

WDYM?

Dodger14

Parker?

ParkerDiRocky

Last night never happened. Understand?

Have you told anyone?

Dodger14

I’d never do that

ParkerDiRocky

I’ll deny it if you do. Nobody would believe you.

Dodger14

Don’t. You’re my best friend

ParkerDiRocky

I never want to talk about it again.

It turns my stomach just thinking about it.

ParkerDiRocky

I thought you were like that but hoped I was wrong.

ParkerDiRocky

I love Millie.

I’m not interested in dudes. If you are, that’s your problem.

ParkerDiRocky

It’s sick, Carter.

Get some fucking help.

Dodger14 is offline and may not respond.

Fuck. How could I? I don’t even remember typing that, let alone thinking it.

I don’t even feel like that. At all.

Panic rising, I grab my phone. There’s 2% battery left but I call Brandon’s number, my stomach twisting impatiently. It rings once, then cuts off. I redial immediately, but this time an automated voice tells me his phone has been switched off.

I dial his landline. “Senator, it’s Parker. Could I talk to Brandon? It’s really important”.

“No, Parker. You can’t”. There’s a pause, “Don’t call here anymore”.

“Please, I just need to explain…”

“Stay the hell away from my son, Parker”.

The phone clicks dead, and the ground crumbles beneath my feet. Brandon’s tie is still wrapped around my knuckles. I undo it, and it drops to the floor.