Page 27

Chapter 27

Boundaries

Brandon

Coffee was a bust, and lunch isn’t going much better.

After Di Rossi dramatically overpays for our coffees, we walk deeper into the city. Well, I walk. He strides ahead and I try to keep up whilst apologising to the innocent pedestrians who have to dive out of his way.

We land at a sandwich shop with a couple of free stools in the window. I pull one out and settle in, my eyes immediately landing at a burger van across the street that makes my stomach growl.

But I’m already in the doghouse, so I don’t suggest we go there.

Parker’s studying the menu so intently he’s practically burning a hole through it. I sit uncomfortably amongst the silence. Too much space to fill with overthinking. The more time Parker has to think, the more chance that he’ll realise that this isn’t what he wants. That I’m not what he wants.

So, I try some diversion tactics. I babble about the decor, then some soccer stats from the weekend. ‘Mm’ is about the closest I get to an actual response.

A sandwich shop is as far away from the grand twelve-seater dining table in my parent’s house as you can get, but the feeling is the same. Like I’m just being tolerated. No matter what I say or do. No matter how many extra credit assignments I take, or how many times I’m voted student president. No matter how many winning goals I score.

I’m just treading water, waiting to be dismissed.

It’s not my fault he touched my hand. Nobody even noticed. It’s not like he mounted me right there at the table. Besides, it’s not the first time we’ve touched hands. Or held hands.

And for once, I’m not thinking about that night at the beach.

I slam the car door. My mom glares at me as she starts the engine. I’ll pay for that later. If she’s even still at home when I get there. My heart pounds as I hurry into school. Don’t turn round. Don’t let her see you’re upset. It’ll only make it worse.

I rush to my locker as the registration bell sounds. Some schools might treat their athletes like gods amongst men, but mine sure doesn’t. I can’t take the risk of getting in trouble and not being allowed to start on Friday. I need to start Friday. Scouts are coming and scouts mean scholarships. My mom couldn’t have been clearer this morning. Soccer, or them.

So I guess I’m gonna be on my own, because soccer’s the only thing I want to do.

My only consolation is that I’m not the last one to class. Parker’s stood in-front of our lockers, not moving. “Shift your ass, Di Rossi”, I slide to a halt next to him and start unloading my backpack. “I know why I’m late, what’s your excuse?”

He doesn’t respond. It’s only then I notice the blood on his knuckles, and the crack in his locker door. “What the fuck happened?”

“My dad died”.

“Parker. Oh my God, man”, I lower my backpack carefully to the floor, “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be here. Let me – I’ll call someone”.

“Who? There’s nobody anymore”, he says blankly. Then, before I can stop him, he curls his fist a ball and slams it into his locker. It dents immediately, as he draws back to do it again. And again. The sound echoes throughout the corridor. I hear the voice of my English teacher in the distance, coming from the main reception.

“Stop! Hey!” I grab his hand, but he pushes me off, so hard that I have to tackle him to get him to stop hurting himself. “Parker, man, stop, please”. He starts wretching violently, pushing me away. I grab my jersey and wrap it tightly around his knuckles, holding his hand to stop the bleeding, until eventually we’re discovered, tangled in a mess of blood and tears.

I think about that day all the time. I wonder if he thinks about it too. Or whether he’s buried it, like an unexploded bomb alongside all the other messiness connected to his father’s death.

I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I’ve never been able to. But if I had to confront my biggest fear, it’s that he just got a small taste of what a real relationship with me might be like, and it’s terrified him to the point that he’s planning an exit strategy.

Like clockwork, his words whisper to me.

It’s sick Carter, get some fucking help.

I should have had it out with him when we first reconnected. I should have been smart enough not to start anything at all.

“Brandon?” But if I’d have done that, I’d never get to hear him say my name. And I really love the way that he says my name. “I said, how much do I owe you for the food?”

I look down. Our sandwiches have been deposited at the table. “Don’t worry about it”. Steak and caramelised onion. My favourite, but right now, the lump in my throat is so thick I’m not sure that I could force anything down.

“Seriously”, he says, taking out his wallet. “I don’t want to owe you”.

God forbid. I’m about to respond, when his phone starts ringing. He frowns at the screen. “I’d better take this”.

“Parker!” I recognise the sound of his stepfather’s voice immediately. “Finally!”

Donnie came into Parker’s life about two years after his father passed away. He’s super nice, if a little bit soft, but he didn’t have any kids or an ex-wife, which made him—in the words of Parker’s mom, ‘the golden ticket’.

The subject of Donnie was the first thing Parker and I ever argued about. Parker had resisted Donnie’s friendly overtures for months. I’d encouraged Parker to give him a chance. Parker said I didn’t know what it was like to lose a parent. I said he didn’t know what it was like to have a parent who wished they had never had a son in the first place.

Things escalated from there, and we didn’t speak for two weeks.

I backed down, because ultimately, it’s impossible to one up someone with a dead dad.

Parker and Donnie begin chatting, and I steal a glance at my phone. My dad’s campaign is about to ramp up, and I’ve got my news alerts all set up to monitor every political buzzword going. I blink in surprise. Governor Handley is stepping down.

Handley was one of my father’s longstanding allies. I scan the news report. He’s failed to disclose some investments and got caught out on a paper trail. Rather than bring embarrassment to his office, he’s decided to walk away at the end of his term. My dad’s team had always drilled it into me; don’t leave a paper trail.

Not that there’s anything I’ve ever done that could cause a problem. My grades were once printed in the local newspaper. Once the populus finds out that you’re failing algebra, you learn how to keep things discreet. I’d never be so dumb as to—

Wait. No. Oh, fuck.

My paperwork at Summit. I ticked the box that said…

I mean, it’s hardly like I’m important enough for someone to leak it… wait. Something catches my eye.

Blind Item: Which scandal-ridden Senator’s son is giving his father a run for his money? Rumour has it this soccer loving frat boy is spending some time breaking more than just goalposts, after instigating a bar room brawl on his spring break?

The waitress comes over to check we’re enjoying our food. “Delicious, thanks”, I say, after she prompts me for a second time.

“I recognise that voice!” Donnie says. Parker catches my eye. “Is that Brandon Carter?” Before I can stop him, Parker has spun his phone screen towards me. “Brandon! It is you! Parker never told us that you were at Summit”.

“Hi, Mr. Hurst”, I remember Parker’s stepfather’s surname just in time. “Good to see you again, sir. How’s the world of construction?”

We exchange pleasantries whilst Parker chews his sandwich silently. Donnie finishes telling me about Mrs Di Rossi’s surveillance on their neighbours because she’s sure they’re putting their rubbish in other people’s trashcans, when Parker takes the phone back.

“Mom’s not there, I guess?”

“Not this time”, Donnie says apologetically. Parker’s shoulders deflate. “I told her she should write to you. I thought it might help her express herself without…”

“Me blowing up?”

“Both of you leaning into your…bigger feelings”, Donnie finishes. “We’re planning the family vacation this year, if you have any suggestions?”

“Am I still invited?”

“Parker, this argument with your mom. It’s temporary, I promise you. Now, are we booking two plane tickets? End of August. Last time we spoke you were seeing someone. Will your girlfriend be joining us?”

“I don’t think so”. Parker avoids my gaze. “It’s pretty casual”.

“Casual, eh?” Donnie chuckles. “I don’t know, you kids. Does he tell you anything about his love life, Brandon?”

“A gentleman never tells, sir”. It’s the best I can come up with, once I’ve finished choking on my sandwich. Parker at least has the good grace to whack me on the back.

“You two were always as thick as thieves”. Donnie snaps his fingers. “Now then! That’s an idea. Brandon—why don’t you join us? We’d love to have you”.

“Brandon’s busy”, Parker cuts in quickly. “He’s away with his folks for the end of the summer”. My stomach sinks uncomfortably.

“That’s a shame!” Donnie says, “But of course, this is quite last minute. And you have school to get back to. That reminds me”, he coughs slightly, “Parker, I received a letter this morning that we could do with a quick chat about”.

Parker slides off his stool. “Hold on two secs, okay?”

He disappears to the other end of the café, head down, talking intently. I decide not to wait for his return.

My inner monologue counts it off one by one. He freaks out when he touches you in public. He lies when his parents suggest that you spend time together. And sooner or later, he’ll go back to his real life, and you’ll be left with nothing but a broken heart.