Chapter Nine

People always say that being normal is overrated. Coming from someone who isn't normal herself, I disagree. Life is easier (especially in highschool) when you're like everyone else. Individuality non-existent, squashed into nothing to make you a carbon copy of the average teen. In fact, there was nothing I wished for more than to be normal and to not have an irrational fear of something that I knew was harmless.

However, normality was impossible for me. That's why I had to make the best of what I was.

A normal day for my not-so-normal self was to blend into the background, to fit in with everybody else around me. If I was invisible, things tended to run far more smoothly with next to no touching incidents or embarrassing mistakes.

Alas, my meeting Parker a month ago had tipped everything upside down. His widely-known self had quite literally waltzed into my life and left everything crashing and burning in his wake. My invisibility, my reputation, my broken-into home, my involvement with the police... Everything had gone off course, straying from the path of what was supposed to be happening in my large non-event life and I could solely pin the blame on Parker Heywood for ruining things.

The next Monday that rolled around made my life seem almost back to normal - and by normal I meant before Parker kind of normal. It was as though the student body had come to a unanimous decision over the weekend that I was no longer as peculiar as they'd first assumed after my hanging out with Parker came to light. There were less people gawking and I only had to remind students that the rumours weren't true twice. However, that was only during the morning.

My afternoon was another story.

"You'll never guess who wants to talk to you!" Skylar practically sang as we made our way to our last class of the day. The girl was close to skipping, a mega watt grin making her face glow. It was somewhat alarming.

"I don't know, who?" I sighed.

"Guess."

"As fun as this game is, it would end a lot quicker if you just told me."

"You're no fun," She pouted before her upbeat expression made a reappearance. "Beckett Gray wants to speak with you!"

I frowned at her. "Why the heck would Beckett want to talk to me?"

She shrugged her small shoulders, strawberry blonde hair falling down her back in waves. "I think he's going to ask you out. All of the guys think you're this secret badass now that you hang out with Parker and they love it. Exciting stuff, huh? You can shoot down every single one of them."

I felt like an idiot for having thought that the relatively silent students were a good thing. I now understood that they weren't getting over Parker trailing me, the silence was simply the calm before the storm. The storm in the form of Beckett Gray.

"Are you being serious?" I gave her a sharp look, my hands breaking out into a nervous sweat already. "You know I loathe that asshole."

The amount of people I actually paid attention to or took notice of was extremely little. Beckett was one of those special, chosen few but for all of the wrong reasons.

He was the type of guy that your parents would love you to bring home due to his insane intelligence and the fact that he oozed charm. I wasn't fond of the boy at all. Reason one, he loved himself far too much for his own good; reason two, he never stopped bragging about how wealthy he and his family were; and reason three, a rumour went around last year that he left the bathroom without having washed his hands. Quite frankly, poor hygiene is a deal breaker.

I think he mentioned having a yacht once but that was probably old news. I wouldn't be surprised if his new play toy was a private jet. What irritated me most however, was him residing in our town. If he thought he was so above everyone else, so much better than us all, then he should just shut up, pack his bags and move onto greener pastures.

"Ignore his big headedness and admire that impressive jaw line, I mean come on."

I neither agreed nor disagreed with her statement (though it was certainly the former), instead deciding to put my attention toward the more important issue at hand. "What am I going to do? He's in my next class and you, my little advice guru, aren't there to help me."

"If I were you then I'd go along with it. Let the guy take you out, spoil you rotten in some posh restaurant and then leave." She chuckled, amused with herself before she sauntered away to her next class. I wished she was in my own, I really needed her care free nature to rub off on me.

I walked into my English room with my head held high in a valiant attempt to wear a calm facade. Perhaps if my movements weren't scrutinised by everybody these days and I was able to fade into the background like I used to do with such ease then they wouldn't have noticed the tragic failure that happened moments later. Too focused on maintaining a nonchalant expression, I didn't realise there was a roll in the carpeted flooring. Of course my legs my legs had to fly out from underneath me. I didn't doubt that I looked like a newly born giraffe as I scrambled back to my feet.

"Foot spasm." I explained (lied) to nobody in particular as I scurried to my desk, ignoring the snickers from around me as I took my seat next to Parker. He looked slightly amused but didn't comment on it. For someone who constantly mocked me at every opportunity he got, that was unusual.

"You look happy." I remarked sarcastically. He was sulking and staring longingly out of the window next to him. The breeze that blew in ruffled his already thoroughly tousled hair, no doubt like that from the way he incessantly ran his hand through it.

"I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm today, honey. Shut up please."

I blinked, startled by his sour mood. He was always relatively grumpy, but today felt different. I couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with our awkward conversation the previous weekend but I quickly dismissed the thought when I realised how he held himself. He wasn't awkward, he looked angry with his flushed cheeks and furrowed brows. Infuriated.

"Well," I paused, having no idea what the protocol for a situation like this was. "I hope you- feel better soon?"

He sent me a glare and I raised my hands in the air, surrendering to the ferocity of his gaze.

The teacher walked in and started the lesson just as I scooted my chair a little bit away from Parker and the waves of anger that radiated from him. We lapsed into silence, the only sound being the scribbling pens of classmates copying down the notes we needed. I was too preoccupied doodling in the top corner of my page to do the same.

It must have been twenty minutes into the lesson when Parker decided to break the tense silence. His patience had been hanging on by a thread - that much was obvious - but what had finally severed it, I didn't know.

"Aren't you going to ask what's bothering me?" He suddenly spat, his hands slamming against our desk. Surprised, my pen flew out of my hand and fell with a clatter. The teacher was looking at us through her thickly rimmed glasses as if we were nothing but dog dirt on her Prada shoe whereas everyone sitting nearby shot us surreptitious, curious glances.

"Well you were really quiet."

"And?" He grunted.

"Well nobody plans a murder out loud, do they? I don't want to get all caught up with the police again thank you very much. Once is enough for me." I picked my pen back up, continuing with the stick man I had so artistically illustrated within the margin of my page. He plucked it from my grasp, forcing my attention to return to him.

"I had to do you a big fucking favour today," I watched as tiny cracks began to travel along the plastic casing of my pen. His knuckles were an ashy white, fingers fisted so tightly around the writing instrument that any moment now it would crack in two. "You should be thanking me."

"My pen-" I began.

"I wasn't going to tell you what the assholes said but seeing as one of them is sitting in this class and hasn't looked at anything but the back of your head for the past half hour then I don't think I have a fucking choice." The pen finally gave out, snapping in half and splattering us both with tiny splotches of ink.

"For god sake Parker, my pen!" I licked my thumb before trying to smear the black blotch of colour from my white shirt. It was right on my front and would probably stain. Brilliant. I rubbed at it but the mark only seemed to grow.

Parker fixed his hazel gaze on the splotch of ink as he slowly let go of the shards of plastic in his hand, allowing them to fall to the table. He then continued with his nonsensical speech. "You were the topic of conversation today in the boys locker rooms." He stated.

"What?" I looked up from the stain on my shirt.

"It doesn't take this much noise to work, children!" The voice of our teacher called from the front of the room as she stared pointedly at us. The few people who had been staring at us hunched over their papers upon hearing her words, pretending to focus intently on their work. I did the same but instead of working, attempted to reassemble the broken pieces of my pen. It was like an ill fitting jigsaw.

Parker, not put off in the slightest, swung back on the hind legs of his chair and continued to make frustrated muttering sounds underneath his breath. "I had to put some guys in their place."

"What do you mean?" My blood ran cold.

"They were saying how hot you were. Trying to guess if you'd be good in the sheets when someone managed to loosen you up. They got it into their fucked up brains that it's the only reason I'm hanging out with you." He said it as though every word he had spoken thoroughly repulsed him. If what he said was true, the feeling was mutual.

"So what did you do?"

"I kindly told them not to."

Knowing fine well that he didn't just talk when he wasn't happy, I glared at him. "Parker."

"Flora." He copied my tone. He looked annoyed but a smile was threatening to appear like the sun breaking out of the clouds on a stormy day.

"What did you do?" I repeated, apprehension slowly crawling up my spine.

"Just set them straight," He shrugged. "None of them are allowed to talk to you again. If they so much as look at you in the wrong way then they'll have me to answer to. Had to shove one of them against the wall to make my point clear but it's obvious he hasn't got the message through his thick skull yet." At that, he sent a venomous glare toward something over my shoulder.

I turned around and was met with Beckett's intent gaze from across the classroom. His lips quirked up at the corners when he noticed me staring and he sent me a charming smile which would have made other girls swoon. His brown hair was styled to swoop up at the front like Parker's always was and I was reminded of Skylar when I looked at his jaw; it surely had to be a 90 degree angle and sharp enough to cut through steel. Alas, his good looks were out shone by his terrible personality.

I quickly averted my eyes feeling somewhat uncomfortable. If Parker hadn't taken notice of me, neither would he. Nobody would have. I had suddenly been made to look desirable just because I talked to Parker and it only proved that the boys in my year were quite literally just a large herd of sheep bleating crude remarks and copying whatever the others wanted or did.

I wanted what Parker had said about the boys locker room discussion to be a lie but I had no reason not to believe him. It was too much of a coincidence to have Skylar's warning and smiles from Beckett on the same day.

Although I felt a certain amount of gratitude toward Parker for warding off some of the creeps, it was overshadowed by the irritation I felt for him stepping in and taking over. He had no right to boss them about, demanding that they never speak to me again. If he kicked up such a big fuss then it was only adding fuel to the fire that was our highschool's gossip. I was more than capable of telling them to get lost myself. Not to mention this was him not so discreetly dictating who had permission to talk to me. I ground my teeth together in frustration.

"You can't just scare people into not talking to me." I said through gritted teeth.

"I beg to differ," He replied, cold eyes still glued to Beckett over my shoulder. "What makes you think I can't? I already have."

"Because this is my life, Parker," I hissed. "Stop trying to control it. I can fix my own problems without you interfering."

He tore his eyes away from Beckett and raised an eyebrow at me. There was a faint smile on his lips as he said in a sickly sweet voice, "Sorry honey, I just get a little protective over you. That's all."

I scowled at him just as the shrill ring of the bell sounded overhead which signalled the end of our day. I snatched my bag from the floor and hurriedly began tidying my things. I tried my best to put my work away as quickly as possible to escape the classroom that had Beckett's watchful gaze and Parker's annoying attitude. Apparently when I tried to do things quickly, it only resulted in me being ten times clumsier and actually taking longer. I learnt that the hard way as I knocked my folder from my desk. This gave Beckett the excuse he needed to casually stroll by, conveniently there to pick it up for me.

"Flora," Beckett drawled, reading my name from my folder. I hurriedly ripped it out of his grasp, stuffing it into my bag. "Did you know that Flora was the Roman goddess of flowers and spring? A very pretty goddess too."

"As a matter of fact I already knew that." I replied stiffly. I was unsure of whether I felt more uncomfortable because of his flirting or because Parker was watching it and looking rather livid.

"Smart as well as beautiful," He said in approval, that ever so charming smile still plastered to his face even though Parker was sending him rather vicious daggers. "Why aren't all of the boys lining up to get you?"

"You know why." I snapped as I made my way to the classroom door. The two boys followed hot on my heels and my discomfort skyrocketed. How was I to get rid of the pair?

"If you're talking about your fear of intimacy then don't worry. That doesn't matter to me, you know. I'd take more pleasure in courting you before it came to that stuff anyway."

I heard Parker give a small snort of derision at Beckett's words.

I stopped walking and spun myself around to stare at him. "This isn't a Jane Austen novel."

"A reader of the classics, I see. I'm an avid reader myself. You know," He mused. "We might get along well, you and I."

"An arrogant bastard, I see. You know, I think I'd rather repeatedly rake a fork down my face if it meant I never had to have this conversation again." I replied with what I hoped was an innocent smile before continuing my march down the corridor, carefully weaving in between the students without making contact.

Parker let out a loud laugh as he caught up with my fast paced strides, "You really can take care of your own problems."

I ignored him, refraining from letting out an irritated sigh as Beckett made a reappearance on my other side. "Could I talk to you in private please, Flora?"

"No, she can't. She's a little bit busy talking to me right now so fuck off back to daddy's mansion, posh boy."

"There you go again," I came to an abrupt stop, pointing my finger in Parker's face. "Controlling things. I can speak for myself," I turned to Beckett who stood with a slightly amused smirk on his face. "If I agree to this then will you leave me alone afterward?"

He nodded, his gaze flitting to the angered Parker with amusement still dancing in his eyes. "Of course."

***

Have you ever hated a place so much that it's almost as if part of you shuts down and stops responding to the world around you? You're there, but you aren't. You're trapped in this dazed stupor, aware of what's going on in your surroundings but unable to respond to them. You're too focused on not letting your emotions hit home because you know that once they do, you'll break down into tears. Though deep down, you understand that you don't have much of a choice but to be in that very place.

That is exactly how I felt about Doctor Greene's office.

Having someone that thought they understood my rare condition when they didn't have it themselves drove me up the wall, and what's more, he thought he could fix it. It was because I hated this man so much that his once inviting little room was what I found the least comforting place on this earth. I associated it with him.

In recent days, my anxiety about our sessions had been getting worse. The omnipresent worry lurked in the back of my mind, constantly nagging me like a loose tooth would. I'm not sure what exactly had changed in order to intensify my dread about going to this place but I reckoned it was a combination of events. School being worse, Parker continuously aggravating me, Parker's touch being uncomfortable yet (much to my alarm) tolerable, mum forcing me to come to this place two - sometimes even three times a week. The list could go on.

"Well, it's safe to say you've kept the same splendid level of conversation today as you have done every other session." Doctor Greene mused, writing something in his notebook with one hand and stroking his ginger stubble with the other. His tone of voice didn't sound sarcastic though the remark had to be considering I never spoke more than short, snappy sentences or sarcastic comebacks each time I was forced to talk to the man. I couldn't pinpoint what I didn't like about him or why I thought him untrustworthy, but I just did.

"Just as it's safe to say you've kept the same splendid level of imbecile today as you have done every other session." I replied snidely.

"Before you go," He began the second I had reached the door that had my freedom just beyond it. I sighed, turning around. "Your mum and I spoke earlier on today about perhaps prescribing you with some medicati-"

I didn't let him finish as I stormed out of the brightly lit room with its white reclining chairs and pale yellow walls. I had no interest in what my mother and therapist had been discussing behind my back. I'd blatantly told them already how much I opposed to any form of medication they wished to prescribe me with but it was clear that neither of them listened.

I yanked the car door open - probably with more aggression than necessary - and threw myself onto the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind me. I hit my fist against the dashboard in frustration but immediately regretted it with the searing pain that shot through my hand.

"It's good to see you too." Parker said, casting me a sideways glance and revving the engine of his car.

I grunted in response, eyes focused on the abundance of CD's lying about by my feet - anything to distract me from my horrible therapist. It differed drastically to Axel's car that had women's underwear littering its flooring. It was safe to say I preferred Parker's pickup truck.

We came to a stop at the red traffic light and Parker glanced my way, noticing the few albums I had picked up and was currently examining. "I doubt you'll like any of that, it won't be your thing." He said in a hurry, looking almost embarrassed as I slotted the MCR disk into his vehicle's CD player. I sent him a funny look.