Chapter Eight

My dad once told me that dread was like an invisible demon that sat upon your shoulders. It was hefty, it weighed you down and only you could hear the sharpening of its knives.

I felt that all too familiar weight on my shoulders, the heavy feeling sitting in the pit of my stomach as I watched Parker drive away.

The lights were on and I could see her shadowed figure moving about behind the living room curtains. It meant that I had absolutely no excuse to explain my whereabouts. I had planned on just pretending to have stayed in all day when she returned from work but it was clear that I couldn't stick to that plan. If I told her the truth (that I had been hanging around with a group of boisterous young males which had the appearance of wild youths) there wasn't a doubt in my mind that the woman would have heart failure. She wouldn't believe me if I told her we only had ice-cream.

Even I wouldn't believe me.

With bated breath, I unlocked my door. Having heard the jingle of my keys, I was immediately met with my mother as I stepped inside. She worked in the bakery that was roughly a fifteen minute drive away and was still clad in her working clothes; a shirt sporting the bakery's logo and a pair of loose fitting jeans. There was a smear of what looked like flour on one of her flushed cheeks and her fair hair had been piled into a messy bun atop her head. She looked dishevelled to say the least.

"Where have you been?" She demanded with a hand on her hip.

"I-" She was giving me that parental look, the one that said to spill the beans or else there'd be trouble. The look that even when you're thirty years old would still make you quake in your boots. "Um..."

"You better start explaining yourself young lady, I've been worried sick!" She ran a hand through her hair and I watched as an almost unnoticeable cloud of flour puffed into the air before settling on her shoulders. I idly wondered if she'd had some kind of baking disaster to get so coated in the ingredients. I imagined her making snow angels on the floor of the bakery, only minus the snow, plus the baking flour. She raised an eyebrow, completely unaware of my distracted thoughts.

"Well you see, really funny story-" I chuckled awkwardly, trying to buy myself some time to conjure up a plausible excuse. She knew exactly what I was doing. "I was driving to school when I saw this homeless man choking on his meatballs," It was at that moment I swore to myself to never again get caught in a situation where I had to lie on the spot. I had no idea where I was going with this. "And I, um, had to dislodge the one choking him from his throat."

"He was eating meatballs for breakfast? That seems unlikely."

"Are you saying that you know this homeless man's dietary habits?"

"What has this even got to do with being absent from school?" She demanded.

I swallowed before I spoke, trying to moisten my mouth which was currently as dry as chalk. "Oh- right," I paused. " Well once I had saved his life he asked if, uh, he could borrow my phone to call his brother for help. They had a bad relationship, you see. He wanted to make amends and unfortunately he wouldn't pick up so I told him that I'd stay with him until he did. I couldn't exactly go to school if that meant leaving a poor old man by himself because that would be morally wrong." I said the last sentence so quickly that the words blurred together and I was surprised that mum had managed to make sense of it at all.

"Flora," She said stiffly. "When the school called me to say you weren't present, I phoned you. You never picked up any of my calls so I came home straight away only to find that your phone was stuck in between the cushions of our sofa. How exactly did you phone this man's brother?"

"A payphone?" I offered lamely.

"You just said he borrowed- never mind." She sighed deeply, shutting her eyes and massaging her temples with her fingers. "You do understand why I'm worried, don't you? We've recently had a brick thrown through our window by god knows who. My bet is on your criminal friend that you stopped hanging out with. No doubt he's angry at that and he's taking it out on the house. You need to be careful, Flora. You're fragile..." She trailed off before muttering unintelligible things under her breath.

When my mum had returned home from work that day, she freaked out about the brick but didn't call the police. She said she didn't want the neighbours to start thinking ill of us. Of course, if she had known there had been a threatening note attached to said brick I don't think she would have thought twice before calling them up. Instead, she just phoned someone to come fix it.

"Criminal friend?" I frowned, disliking how she'd referred to him with such distaste in her tone. "Parker isn't a criminal. He wouldn't do that." He'd much rather just pick the lock of our door.

"You came home in a police car because of him." She stated like it was supposed to justify her point.

"That was the old lady's fault for misunderstanding!" I protested.

"Why were you yelling at him not to touch you in the first place then?"

"Look," I snapped, feeling oddly protective over him. "You don't even know him."

"And you do? Do you really know this boy? He's a bad influence and I'm just glad you're staying away from him now. I understand that the time you spent with him clearly shook you up and that you're obviously nervous about returning to school but I wish you would have said something. We could have booked you another appointment with Doctor Greene today instead of you walking around town avoiding the inevitable."

It was one of the first times that my mother had been truly wrong. The woman was oblivious and was completely unaware as to what was actually going on.

I stared at her, feeling guilty about disobeying her wishes to stay away from Parker. Technically, I didn't ignore her. It was Parker who insisted on following me, not the other way around. I couldn't exactly stop that from happening because he didn't like being told no.

"You're right," I lied, trying to keep my face neutral and ignore the guilt eating away at my insides. "I'm sorry."

She nodded, letting out a relieved sigh. "So how about I make us some lunch? Pasta sound good?"

***

"Parker," I breathed through the phone in a hushed whisper. "I need you to come over. Like- right now."

"Is this finally the day where you realise your undying love for me? Have you called me over for a night of passionate embraces and some hot, steamy shower sex?"

"Not quite," I replied, holding my phone between my shoulder and ear as I ducked behind my sofa. "A creature has infiltrated my home and I demand immediate assistance."

Though I couldn't see him, I could tell that he was smiling. "A creature?"

"It's tiny, has wings and it isn't leaving," I snatched one of my slippers from the floor and tried to throw it at the beast. The creature felt no threat as my slipper sailed past a few metres in the wrong direction. I threw its partner in quick succession before coming to the understanding that I had next to no hand-eye coordination. "I'm also out of ammunition."

"Honey, are you describing a bug or a bird?" He laughed.

I thought about it for a moment, noticing a flash of red on the thing that fluttered about my ceiling. "A bug. I think it might be poisonous."

"Poisonous? Count me out."

"What?" I exclaimed. "You can wreck a store and try to beat up one of your own friends but you can't come over and kill an insect for me?"

"Look," He sounded amused. "I can tell this is all just an excuse to get me to come over-" I tried to protest but he talked over me. "So I'm not complaining. Your wish is my command. See you soon."

I glared at my phone screen as he hung up on me. I couldn't help but wish I'd followed my first instinct which was to phone Skylar even though I knew it would result with us both yelling from behind my sofa. Alas, the deed had been done. There was no going back now and all I could do was regret my split second decision to call the most annoying person in my contact list.

The only positive aspect of Parker's arrival ten minutes later was knowing that I wouldn't need to be grilled with questions like I would have been from Skylar. Even though I had now been back at school for an entire week, rumours were still circulating and students still gawked. In Skylar's eyes, it meant that she thought it acceptable to gossip with me about it. I didn't enjoy gossiping. The fact that it was about me made it even worse.

"You know," I started, peeking around the side of the sofa to watch Parker noisily climb through my open, newly repaired living room window. "It's kind of worrying that I've become used to your daily forced entries into my home. Have you ever considered knocking the door?"

He sauntered over to where I crouched with a ghost of a smile on his face. Ignoring my question he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Hiding," I stated simply before gesturing to the right hand corner of my ceiling. "From the beast that's intent on terrorizing me."

"How long have you been like this?"

"A couple hundred minutes, give or take a few." I replied.

I remained stationed where I was as he went to investigate. The laughter that escaped his lips a few moments later filled the quiet room and bounced of its walls. I popped my head above the sofa to look at him and my cheeks burned red.

There, Parker stood still, admiring the butterfly that sat upon his outstretched finger. Its wings fluttered and I watched as the boy that appeared hardened to everyone else but me wore a soft smile on his face as he let it fly free out of the window. He caught me watching him and as if catching onto my train of thought, he quickly furrowed his eyebrows to resume the moody-model sort of look he always had.

"You thought a butterfly was poisonous."

"Golly gosh, would you look at the time? I think it's best you leave now because I'm very busy." I hurriedly stood up, pulling at the fraying hem of my sweater in embarrassment.

"I don't think I've met anybody that's quite as terrible at lying as you are." Parker mused, strolling out of the room and into my kitchen as if he owned the place. I followed hot on his heels.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I paused. "Why are you eating my cereal?"

He looked up, a cheeky smile on his face as he helped himself to a bowl of Lucky Charms. When he inspected his bowl, his face quickly contorted into a baffled expression. I watched as Parker began to search the cereal box. I knew exactly what he looked for, they were something he wouldn't find.

"What the fuck is this black magic?" He growled before tipping the entire contents of the box upside down, cereal pouring over the kitchen countertop and pieces bouncing to the tiled flooring.

"Hey!" I shouted, trying in vain to salvage my future breakfasts. He squashed the pieces under his large palms as he searched through the mess he'd created and as much as it was amusing to watch his confusion, dirtying my house and taking away my food crossed the line.

"You ate all of the marshmallows!" He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger toward my chest. I took a hesitant step back just in case he decided to make contact with said finger. Thankfully he was too preoccupied to do so, rattled by the lack of marshmallows.

"No, I just put them in the bin."

He paused. "What?"

"I put them in the bin," I repeated. "I don't like them. I take them out of the packet so I don't need to waste time in the mornings picking them out of my bowl."

"You don't like them? But they're everybody's favourite bit!" He seemed absolutely astonished and I couldn't hold back my snort of amusement. It was just cereal but he was making it into such a dramatic ordeal.

I shrugged, opening my mouth to say something before I heard a noise from the hallway. Parker raised an eyebrow at me, silently asking if I was expecting visitors. I shook my head and whispered, "Someone's in the house."

"No shit," He copied my low volume. "I couldn't tell."

It was then that Parker took it upon himself to take control over the situation, as per usual. The guy thought he knew best all day every day so I really should have expected the idiot to take control in the most unorthodox fashion. "OI!"

My jaw hit the floor and I made wild hand gestures to explain how it could be a thief. He responded with a middle finger and we both waited for something to happen.

"Flora?" My mum's voice called unsurely from the living area. I sent Parker a wide eyed look. "Was that you? Are you home? I forgot to take Delilah's gift with me so I'm back to pick it up before I go to the party again. Flora? Sweetheart?"

I steeled myself for what I was about to do, took a shaky breath and then grabbed onto Parker's arm to drag him hurriedly (and as quietly as possible) into the hallway. I opened the door to the small closet we stored our Hoover, cleaning products and laundry basket in before quietly shutting it behind us.

We were lapsed into darkness, the smell of dampness invading our nostrils. I prised my rigid fingers from his forearm and focused on breathing. The confined space forced us to stand so close together that we were stepping on each other's feet, our chests virtually touching. It wasn't pleasant.

"This is too cosy." I remarked, trying my best to focus on anything but the look Parker was sending me. Although it was dark, I could see his eyes very clearly. He didn't say anything, albeit the look in his hazel eyes spoke volumes. I didn't want to talk about the subject he would start.

"You touched me." He said.

"I think you're mistaken."

"That wasn't even an attack-touch or a clothes-touch. That was a full on touch-touch, Flora Montgomery." His eyes flitted about my face in astonishment.

"Have you been documenting each type of touch I give you and scribbling it down into your diary or something? You're a weirdo." I tried to take the attention off me. It worked.

"I find that rather hypocritical, honey."

"Just shut up and listen so that we can get out as soon as possible." I hissed.

"I rather like it in here. Being this close to you is kind of hot. You smell like coconut."

"And that's a turn on, is it? Coconuts?" I snorted, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

"Well yeah, obviously. Coconuts have many great connotations. Take for example, big ti-"

"I'm going to stop you right there," I interrupted, holding my hands over my ears. "I hope you weren't going to make a derogatory remark about a female chest."

"You know me too well."

There was a noise from the other room and then footsteps that sounded alarmingly close. Then I heard it; Mum muttering things about the state I'd left the kitchen in and how she was having to clean up after me. I realised that by clean, she meant sweep up the cereal. To my horror, I caught sight of the sweeping brush directly next to me.

Without another word and with too little time to explain anything to Parker, I snatched the sweeping brush from my side. He was about to say something as he zoned in on my hand going to the door so I whacked him with the end of the brush to silence him. Of course, this resulted in the boy falling backwards into the laundry basket.

I burst out of the door and shut it behind me just as my mum reached us.

"Flora!" She exclaimed with a hand over her heart in surprise. "You are home! I knew I heard something."

"Yeah," I chewed my lip nervously. "You were right."

She frowned, detecting my obviously anxious tone of voice. "What on earth happened with the cereal?"

"There was an insect and I panicked." I explained, staying as close to the truth as possible. An amused snort sounded from within the closet and I coughed loudly to conceal it a beat too late. Mum's suspicious eyes snapped to the door I had my back pressed against.

"What was that?"

"Probably something... falling over," I shook the sweeping brush as if that backed up my point. "You know, since I took this out things are probably- falling over in there. So how was Delilah's party?" I hastily changed the topic to my mother's friend. Today she was supposed to be attending her birthday party which was no doubt full of tipsy middle aged women thinking they were the bee's knees'. I had been invited but... not my scene.

"Considering I was there for only a few seconds before I realised I'd forgotten her gift, I don't really know. What's going on with you? Do you need to talk to Doctor Greene?"

"Why is everything always about Doctor bloody Greene with you?" I exclaimed, pointing the handle of the brush toward her. Whether it was my nerves, my irritation, or a mixture of both, my patience had well and truly gone. She scowled at me.

"He helps you, Flora. You don't appreciate him enough," She snapped. "Have you even tried to follow the advice he's given you? Exposure therapy?"

"No because nothing will work mum. Just face it, for fuck sake! Get over it!" My hand twitched in annoyance and the brush clattered to the ground. I winced after I realised what I'd said. Mother's face turned stony.

"Don't use such vulgar language! Not in this house, not anywhere!" She spat. Her cheeks were flushed crimson in anger and she tried to regain her composure, fluffing her hair and straightening out her dress. "Perhaps we should get the pills he first recommended."

"I told you I'm not going to take thos-" I suddenly remembered Parker's presence. Knowing what the infuriating little crap was like, I didn't doubt he'd be eavesdropping on this highly personal conversation. Honestly, I wouldn't blame him. After all, there was only a thin door separating us from him and I doubt he could have blocked us out if he tried what with the rising volume of our voices. I wouldn't even blame our neighbours for listening in. "Look, I'm sorry. Go enjoy your party and I'll clean up the cereal, alright?"

"We'll talk about this later." She stated tersely with no room for further debate. I watched her stalk down the hallway, heels clicking and Delilah's present tucked under one arm. The door slammed shut behind her but it was only when I heard the engine of her car fade into nothing that I felt safe enough to open the closet door again.

I was greeted with one of the most disturbing sights my eyes had ever witnessed.

I pinched myself like movie protagonists did to verify that what they were seeing was real. The nip I felt on the skin of my forearm confirmed that the horrendous image before me was in fact reality.

"Parker," I said in a deadly calm whisper. "Take that off."

He looked up at me with a goofy grin on his face as he stood rifling through my laundry, my baby blue bra strapped to his broad chest, another slung over his arm.

"I've always wanted to try on a bra," He admitted sheepishly. "Can't exactly ask a girl that after banging her. Seems a bit weird. If I did it before it would be a real mood killer though. See my problem?"

"Take it off." I demanded, suddenly finding life in my legs as I sprang forward.

"Or what?" The light from the hallway illuminated the once dark space and the mischief that sparkled in his eyes was in full sight.

"Or-" Or nothing. I couldn't do anything and he knew it. "Or I'll throw another spoon at you!"