Page 5

CHAPTER 5

DREAMS BY CAROL ADES

Brianne Archer:

My first day of classes couldn’t have gone any better if I wanted it to. I jump down the cement stairs of the stadium and onto the field. I was wearing a cuter outfit to begin my day, but I’ve traded that in now for some dance clothes—a light pink pair of tights and a black leotard. I traded my pointe shoes for a pair of short UGG boots that are my go-to when I go to and from dance class. My hair is wound tight into a perfect bun and I’m wearing a sheer black ballet skirt on top of my leo to cover myself.

“Nice outfit, Bri,” Lawson calls out to me as he walks with two of his teammates who are not my brother.

I give him a fake smile and then flash my middle finger.

“I came from dance, asshole. Where is my brother? He told me to meet him here,” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I think he was the last one in the locker room,” one of the guys next to Lawson tells me.

“They were cleared out. You can go back there and knock on the locker room. I’m sure he’s there, he was on the phone with Kam when I walked out,” Lawson tells me.

“Cool, thanks,” I give a real smile now and walk away from them toward the underbelly of the stadium.

“Did you have a good first day?” Lawson calls after me.

He’s walking backward, looking at me.

“Perfect!” I call back.

He throws a thumbs up in my direction and smiles at me. I’m left feeling thankful for my built-in second brother asking how things went. I love Lawson so much more than I let on. I can’t wait to tell Bellamy about the day I had too. How much I loved all my classes, how scary but amazing my dance professor is. I love it here already and it’s only the first day.

I walk into the underground hallways of the stadium and take a left instead of a right for the boy’s locker room. The girl’s are in the opposite direction for the cheer team, which is where I’m used to headed. I knock on the door and peek my head inside.

“Belly?” I call out and hear nothing in response. “Bellamy!” I shout to him but still hear nothing.

I decide to make my way in. There’s no view of anything from the door as there’s a giant slab of cubbies blocking my view. I turn the corner around them and run straight into not just anyone, but a naked, wet someone. I try to keep myself upright and hard hands stabilize me by my shoulders. My hands brush the naked chest in front of me. My lips make an O, my shock more than present as I look up to find Parker Thompson staring down at me. The only thing on him is shock and a very low-hanging towel.

It takes me two seconds. Two fucking seconds to see him before I feel heat spread throughout my body. Not only because I’m embarrassed but because he is… He’s so gorgeous.

His perfectly trimmed facial hair is short and kept. His hair is wet and slicked back except for a few loose curls that are hanging over his forehead and around his strong face. Every line of his body is perfect, rigid, and muscular. His jaw, his nose, his high cheekbones. His cheeks are slightly flushed from what I’m assuming was a hot shower. Shower. SHOWER! Parker is naked, covered only with a towel, and I’m standing here staring at the man like I want him to undress me and take me into the fucking locker room. I tell myself not to but just thinking about it makes my eyes flip down. His chest is perfect and so is the hard V that leads exactly where my mind wants to be. Speaking of, he has a tattoo. One I would never have known about unless I saw him like this. It’s a fern on the right side of his body, curving over his hip, and diving below the towel out of sight. I slap my hand over my eyes and step out of his grip.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” I mumble as quickly as I can.

I move as fast as possible and almost topple over the sports equipment on the floor. I don’t care if I fall. The only words tumbling through my mind are RUN! LEAVE! ESCAPE!

“Be careful…Brianne—”

I don’t wait another second to hear any more of his words as I walk into the hallway. I take my hands off of my eyes and cover my mouth. Oh my god. Oh my fucking god! That was so embarrassing. I not only almost walked in on him naked, but I also unashamedly undressed that man with my eyes. That is my brother's friend and… Bellamy is going to freak out. He’s going to be pissed because Parker will probably tell him that his little sister was… This is so bad. And on my first day of college? I need Dakota, but no. I can’t tell him either. I sit in a chair across from the door and decide the only logical thing to do is wait and apologize profusely until he has no choice but to forgive me.

I need to think logically about this. Parker Thompson and I have had only a few interactions. All of which have been a little awkward but also tense and not in a weird way. Tense in the way that I don’t know if I want to kiss him or run away. First was the day we met when he almost took me down on the beach at the bonfire. He caught me and I couldn’t have made up us locking eyes. I did not make up the way his defenses fell. I saw how pretty his eyes were. How kissable his lips were. But we were in public so we backed away quicker than we fell together. I didn’t make that up, even Dakota noticed that happen.

Then there was two weeks ago at the bar for Griffin’s going away party. He approached me. Yes, in a weird annoying way that all football players do where they try to protect me so that they get brownie points with my brother. At least that’s what I originally thought, until he sought me out later on and he looked at me like… like he was really looking at me. Like he saw something that wasn’t a little sister, but a person. A woman. I would have fallen victim to that look if it wasn’t for the fight that broke out around us. So… So after both of those things, those two instances where he obviously looked at me in a way that wasn’t necessarily friendly, is he really going to run to my brother? Are the two of them as close as I think they are or am I just faking myself out?

I shake my leg for what feels like a million minutes and I bite my thumbnail aggressively as I do. I’m going to be the laughingstock of the football team and the cheer team when everyone finds out that I walked into the freaking locker room. I stand up and pace in front of the door, switching thumbs, gnawing on the other one now. I need to talk to Dak. Screw my earlier plan, he’s what will help me through this. I open my phone and click his contact.

“What’s up, Baby?” he speaks in a calm tone and I groan into the phone. “Ow. Warning before you break my eardrums next time. What happened?”

“I’m the biggest idiot to ever exist, Dak. I was supposed to meet Bellamy at the

stadium and I ran right into someone else who wasn’t my brother and…” I hear the door creak open, and I turn as quickly as I can.

Parker stands in the doorway, staring at me. His eyes rove up and down until they land on my eyes. I shut my mouth right away.

“And then what? Who did you run into? Earth to Bri,” Dakota talks on the phone and I stumble on my words.

“I gotta go. Come over tonight when I get home. Love you, bye,” I hang up before he can answer.

“Your boyfriend?” Parker asks.

“Parker, I am so—Wait, my what?” I ask.

My brother obviously thinks that Dakota is my boyfriend because he’s around but… Why would Parker think that? Is Bellamy really talking to him about it? Or do people just assume guys and girls can’t be friends without wanting to sleep together?

“Dakota, the guy I met the other day. I’m assuming that was him on the phone,” he asks me and I sigh.

“Not you too. Dakota is not my boyfriend. He’s my best friend. We are not interested in each other like that,” I tell Parker and he nods his head.

“I definitely thought you two were dating… You seem close,” he tells me and I shrug.

I don’t know how he is always so calm and chilled out, especially after a very un-chill situation.

“He’s attractive, I have eyes, I can definitely see that, but if we were to ever get involved it would make things too complicated. He’s my stunt partner and he would drive me crazy if he was my boyfriend. He makes a way better best friend. That’s all he is and all he’ll ever be. I keep trying to tell people that, but no one seems to want to listen,” I explain, and he eyes me again, looking down at my clothes.

“Dancer?” he asks, completely bypassing the entire situation that just happened, and everything I just said.

“You’re not going to say anything about what I just said?” I ask and he shakes his head.

“You said you weren’t dating. I have no reason not to believe you. I also hate arguing with people,” he explains and I sigh.

“Parker, I am so sorry. I should never have stepped inside that locker room. Lawson and some of your other teammates told me Bellamy was here and I called out and no one answered and I never should have done that. I can’t believe how stupid I am, because how dumb can I be if I just walk into a men's locker room—”

“Hey Brianne…” His voice is calm as he stops my rambling.

“I’m sorry, did I say too much?” I ask, turning my face toward him.

He’s looking at his feet as we walk but I don’t miss the way his lips twitch into a soft smile as he looks down. Unfriendly thoughts are what’s coursing through my head. I’m being unreasonable. I’m being absolutely crazy.

“No. I just don’t think there’s a reason for you to be panicking right now… It’s not a big deal,” he tells me and I open my mouth to talk, but then close it right away.

“It’s… It’s… not a big deal? I walked in on you naked and I… You’re giving me the easy way out of this so I need to stop babbling,” I tell myself more than him.

“Never said that. Everything is fine, Brianne. Small accident, we’ll keep it between us,” he tells me and I nod.

Keep it between us. Meaning he’s not running to my brother. He’s not whispering in his ear…

“Thank you. I’m so embarrassed. Honestly, I just thought Bell would be here and… and I’m just sorry. Now we can forget about it,” I tell him.

He hums in agreement. He keeps his eyes forward and then says nothing more. Man of very few words. That’s definitely what most people say about Parker. He doesn’t have a lot to say. We head for the field and I pull out my phone to find a text from Bellamy telling me he had to go check on Kamryn because apparently she wasn’t answering him, and to meet him back at the apartment. What I’m reading is that all of this could have been avoided. I sigh and shove my phone back into my messenger bag. I look at Parker who is saying nothing and avoiding eye contact with me.

“I am, by the way… A dancer, I mean,” I tell him, breaking the silence.

“What kind?” He asks the question most people do.

“All kinds,” I smile, clasping my hands in front of me as we walk up the stadium stairs.

My tight bun is starting to make my scalp ache which means it’s time to let it down. I will, the second I’m in the car.

“What’s your favorite, though?” he asks, and I hesitate, not normally getting asked more than the first question.

“Um… I prefer ballet. I like balance and routine but I also love contemporary style. Fluid motion and feeling everything. Feeling the music through all of you and moving to it is just… It’s like therapy,” I shrug, not wanting to start rambling.

“I’ve never met a dancer,” he tells me, keeping his eyes forward as we step out of the stadium now.

“Well, now you have. Nice to meet you,” I extend my hand and he takes it, lightly smiling for the first time.

Instead of shaking it, he lifts it, spinning me around in front of him. I do one twirl and end on his other side, laughing next to him.

“Be safe,” he tells me, then heads in the opposite direction as me.

“Thanks…” I stand for only a second, watching him walk away before heading to my Jeep.

I chose it because my brother also drives a Jeep—the one our dad used to drive before he passed away. I’ve always wanted one, just like his. So I bought a used Jeep when I turned 18 with some of the money my parents left me after they passed away. Mine is still far newer than my brother’s, but not brand new either.

I climb in and my eyes lock on Parker who is now across the parking lot, not going to a car, but continuing to walk. He might not have a car… and it would be so rude for me to let him walk all the way to wherever he’s going. Although, it also seems like a horrible idea because I can’t stop staring at him when he’s within a few feet of me.

I can be an adult. I can be in the car with one of the hot football players. I’ll have to be around him all season so this is no different. It’s obvious we have a mutual attraction, at least from what I can tell. I can leave it at that. I can be mature about thinking he’s hot.

He’s my brother's friend. He was drinking the night at Haven. Nothing has happened between us. Nothing can happen between us. Nothing will happen between us. This is just a ride home. I repeat all these things a million times as I drive toward him, and stop beside him. He turns slightly, his eyes landing on me.

“I can take you to your place…” I tell him, and he hesitates. “Come on, get in.”

I move my duffle out of my passenger seat and into the back. He walks toward my car, and opens the door, climbing in with ease. As he situates himself, I do the same, pulling the pins out of my hair, and tucking them between my teeth. I loosen the bun and take out the hair elastic, letting my long hair fall down my back. I sigh in relief, and take all of my bobby pins out. I reach behind me and tuck them in the side pocket of my duffle before turning back in front. Parker is staring at me and I can feel heat crawl up my cheeks.

“Sorry, I get really bad headaches if I leave them in too long, even after all these years,” I tell him, tucking my hair behind my ears.

I turn my playlist on and my music up only slightly so we can both hear it.

“Thank you for taking me home,” he tells me and I nod.

I keep both my hands on the steering wheel as I pull away from the stadium. His eyes are like weights pressing down on me. Mutual attraction. He appreciates the way I look. I do the same for him—that’s all it is. Nothing else.

“I’ll take you home whenever. You’ll just have to deal with my music taste,” I laugh.

He reaches for the dial and turns the volume up a little more. The sound of Prayin’ For Daylight by Rascal Flatts plays louder in my car now. He nods his head.

“Country?” he asks.

“Sorry,” I shrug, not actually caring if he cares.

“I like it. Country music. Any music. I don’t listen to it much so I don’t really mind,” he tells me.

“You don’t listen to music? How?” I ask back, trying not to turn to him for an answer.

“I’m always around loud noisy guys and cheering crowds and… and I grew up around a lot of noisy kids and people all the time… I prefer quiet when I can get it,” he explains and I nod.

I guess he has a lot of siblings.

“So if you were to listen to music, what would you choose?” I ask. He shrugs.

“I listen to music without lyrics a lot. Calming stuff, classical stuff… and if I’m in the mood, then I will listen to rock or metal music, usually when I’m at the gym or working out,” he tells me.

“I listen to a lot of classical… because of ballet and stuff,” I tell him and he nods.

“Does all the noise not bother you?” he asks and I shake my head.

“I prefer it. No matter what, I want music playing. Because… Well, music is like a universal language, you know? It’s one of the only things that everyone understands in their own way. It’s a way to communicate and involve groups of people. It’s a way to feel things and it’s so interesting. Someone can write their experience down, exactly how they feel after a breakup or death, or anything really, and there will always be someone out there who can relate. There will always be someone who wants to dance or sing or listen to it. I just think there’s something so special about…” I let my voice drop off, realizing that I’m most likely saying way too much.

“What?” he asks and I shake my head.

“Nothing, you get it… I just like music,” I tell him.

“You don’t just like music, Brianne,” he laughs and I feel heat cover my cheeks. I know I’m blushing.

“I know I was rambling. I’ve just always had such a connection to it, maybe it’s because I’ve danced my whole life,” I shrug.

Maybe it’s because my mom and dad always played music when they were home. We had a speaker system wired through our entire house so we could listen to music as loud as we wanted. My mom always used to sing to Bellamy and me when we were younger, and not only that but when she went away with my dad for work… She always sent me new music, or old to listen to. Music reminded my mom of me, and that made me feel loved.

“I get it. Other people’s love languages are words, or spending time together… Yours is music,” he tells me, and I smile, glancing over at him as I drive.

His face is so cool and calm as if he didn’t just say something that made my stomach erupt in butterflies. I nod slowly.

“Yeah, just like that. It reminds me of my mom because she said music reminded her of me. She sent it to me when she was thinking of me,” I tell him quietly.

“Why country?” He asks.

I tell him everything. I tell him that I loved Taylor Swift when she did country and got into other country artists when I was young because of her. As I grew up, I never grew out of it, even if Taylor Swift did. He instructs me quietly on how to drive to his place while listening to every word I say intently. He doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t interject, and most importantly, he doesn’t make me feel stupid for speaking about something I care about… even if I do feel like I’m rambling. He even promises me he’ll listen to some of the artists I recommend.

I park in front of his apartment and he grabs his bag. He looks at me and hesitates before turning to get out of the car. I don’t leave, I just watch him go and he turns back to me. I roll the window down.

“Brianne…” He approaches my car again, a fearful glimmer in his eye.

I have no idea what it means, but I like it—the eagerness on his face.

“What’s up?” I ask, trying to sound as cool as I can.

But I am anything but cool. Parker makes my brain go haywire.

“Do you want to get a coffee… or dinner, or… or anything?” he asks, and just stands, no expression on his face.

My jaw slightly hangs, complete confusion probably laced through my entire expression. Pardon? This was just mutual attraction. I thought it was. I thought he just… I thought…

“Why do you look so shocked?” he asks me, and I shake my head slightly.

“You… You’re…” I stumble on what to say. Is he crazy? Or did he hit his head?

“I’m? What?” he asks and I shake my head.

Maybe I’m the crazy one for not just saying yes?

“Nothing… I’d… I’d love to…” I admit. “Let me get my first week under my belt… My birthday is this weekend so I just… I’ve got a lot going on, but yes. I’d love to,” I smile with closed lips.

He leans into my window, his large arms hanging into my car. He passes me his cell phone and I type in my phone number, still shocked. No fucking way is this happening. I was so wrong…

“When is your birthday?” he asks.

“Friday,” I tell him.

“Friday… That’s our first official game,” he tells me, and I nod.

“The perfect way to celebrate. I think we might be doing something small afterward at my apartment. I’m sure you’ll be there… with my brother,” I add on, not wanting to ruin anything by mentioning him. Parker nods, with no hint of regret on his features.

“I’ll see you later, Brianne,” he nods, his eyes scanning my face before he backs out of the window, and turns away from me. I have no idea how to go about what the fuck just happened. I do know I can’t talk to Bellamy about it. Not yet, maybe not ever. This could be very bad, but I feel really good about it anyway.