"So you make this drive practically every weekend?" I asked Parker, as we slowly hit hour two of our drive.

It felt like the longest drive of my life.

"Yep."

"This is awful."

He chuckled, turning on his blinker to switch lanes. "It's not so bad once you get used to it."

I couldn't imagine driving a total of six hours every weekend.

"So did you hear about the new exhibit opening over at the St. Petersburg Museum of Fine Arts?" I asked Parker.

He noticeably stiffened. "No."

"Well it's coming soon, so it hasn't opened yet. But it's Jane Wyeth's Portraits of something."

"Portraits of Rudolf Nureyev," Parker filled in.

"How did you know that?"

He shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Do you know what it's about?"

"It's a collaboration between Wyeth, one of the greatest painters of all time, and Rudolf Nureyev, a ballet dancer. There's nineteen portraits in total I think, with five actual costumes that Nureyev wore during a couple of his performances."

I stared at Parker, absolutely stunned.

"Wyeth is mostly an oil painter, he prefers oil to that of his father's sober tempera paintings," Parker added. "He has other portraits, like one of JFK and Andy Warhol, but he felt as though Rudolf Nureyev was his most challenging subject."

I was absolutely floored. "How do you just know that off the top of your head?"

Parker let out a laugh, clearly amused by my confusion.

"So I guess you want to go see it then," I said.

"No," Parker declined, with a shake of his head.

"But you just gave me the entire backstory of the painter and the ballet dancer guy whose name I can't pronounce, how can you say that you don't want to see it?"

Parker didn't answer for a few minutes.

"I just don't want to," he finally said.

Although that wasn't an actual excuse, I let it slip. We still had a three-hour drive home tomorrow for me to question him.

~*~

"This is a nice hotel," I said, as we stepped inside.

"Hello Mr. Adams," the front desk clerk greeted. "Let me check you in."

That doesn't even surprise me.

The clerk gave us two room keys and wished us the best before we headed upstairs.

"Do you stay here every time?" I asked.

"Yeah," Parker said, with a nod. "No point in switching. It's right down the street from Lee's boarding school and a good rate."

We got settled in before Parker called over to Cornerstone, letting them know he was heading over to pick up Lee.

I, in the meantime, changed into a bathing suit, pulling a sundress over the top.

"Ready?" Parker asked me, after he'd changed as well.

I nodded, tying back my hair in a ponytail before we headed out.

"So Lee has to see his therapist from 10-11," Parker said, as we headed over to Cornerstone. "And then we'll hit the beach."

"Okay," I said, with a nod.

It couldn't be too hard to find something to do in Miami for an hour.

We pulled up to a large brick building. It looked like a mansion on steroids with a bright green lawn and large metal gates.

They buzzed Parker right through, and we made the loop before he parked in the loading zone.

I followed Parker inside, overwhelmed by the immensity of the school.

Lee was waiting for us in the front office, speaking with some of the staff.

"Good morning Mr. Adams," the secretary greeted.

Lee's eyes snapped over to look at us, and then a smile crossed his face when he saw me here too.

Parker signed the papers to have Lee released to his custody for the day, and then Lee came flying around the front desk, throwing his arms around me.

"Hey there," I said, laughing as I hugged him back.

"Well then," Parker huffed.

"I missed you," Lee said.

"I missed you too," I said, giving him a tight hug in return.

He hugged Parker next.

"So now you notice me?" Parker teased.

"You're still my favorite brother," Lee promised.

Parker rolled his eyes as we left the school.

"So you're appointment is at 10," Parker informed Lee. "And then we'll head to the beach from there."

"Do I have to go?" Lee complained.

"Please don't start this," Parker said, unlocking the car.

"But I don't need to," Lee continued, climbing into the passenger seat.

"It's non-negotiable," Parker said, starting up the car.

"What if I promise to see him every other week for the rest of the year?"

"Well you're already going to do that," Parker reminded him. "So that doesn't really matter."

"But I hate going to the therapist," Lee complained.

"Well that's too damn bad."

Lee folded his arms across his chest, pouting.

"I brought your surfboard," Parker said, after a few moments of silence.

"You did?" Lee asked.

"It's in the back."

Lee peered over me, a smile crossing his face.

"See? It's not so bad."

"I still hate the therapist," Lee reminded him.

"I remember," Parker promised.

Lee twisted around to face me. "He always asks me the same questions and wants to know about my deep, interpersonal feelings and shit."

"That's what therapists are for," I said, with a laugh.

"I don't have any deep feelings," Lee complained. "Not that I need to talk about weekly."

"It's the same argument every week," Parker informed me, with an eye roll. "And no matter how many times you try and argue Lee, you still have to go."

"But that's not fair."

"Well that just sucks."

We pulled up to the therapist's office, and Lee grumbled the entire time he was climbing out of the car.

"The weekly struggle," Parker muttered, as I climbed into the passenger seat. "It's one hour a week, I really don't see what the hassle is about."

"Because he's 16 and he doesn't want to go to a therapist."

"Well he needs to be 16 and happy that weekly therapy visits are all that I require."

"Sassy today aren't we?"

Parker chuckled. "Sorry, I just feel a little bad when I have to force him to go."

"He'll thank you in the long run."

"I sure do hope so, either that or resent me forever."

"There's that too," I agreed.

"You're the worst," Parker informed me, with a laugh. "Let's get Starbucks."

I couldn't agree more with that idea.

~*~

"Did you bring my swim shirt?" Lee asked Parker.

"You're lucky I remembered the surfboard and wax," Parker retorted, laying out on a beach towel.

"Can't you just feel the love?" Lee teased.

I laughed, handing him his surfboard wax.

I sat down criss-cross on the other side of Lee's surfboard, watching him wax it.

"Do you have a swim shirt?" Lee asked me. "Long sleeve by chance?"

I shook my head. "That's a negative."

"Damn."

"You shouldn't get too cut up," Parker said, looking over at Lee. "But the water is freezing."

Lee rocked back on his heels, surveying his board. "I might not go out today."

Parker stared at Lee for a few moments. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I just don't want to get cut up."

"Are you sure you're Lee Adams?"

Lee rolled his eyes, handing me the surfboard wax to put away.

And that's when I noticed the fresh cut mark on his arm.

Lee couldn't flip his arm over fast enough before Parker noticed it too.

Parker immediately shot up out off of his towel, sliding off his sunglasses.

"Shit," Lee muttered.

"What is that?" Parker demanded, kneeling down next to Lee.

"A surfboard Parker, you use it to-"

"Do not get smart with me." Parker took Lee's arm and flipped it over, revealing the fresh cut mark.

Not fresh as in it looked like he'd done it today, but fresh enough that it hadn't scabbed over yet.

"It's nothing," Lee said, wrenching his arm away from Parker.

"When did this happen?"

"A couple of days-"

"A date Lee."

He looked up at the sky for a few moments.

"Two days ago," Lee admitted.

Parker stood up, running his hand across his face.

"It's not that big of a deal," Lee continued. "It was one time."

"If it's not that big of a deal then why didn't you tell me about it?" Parker asked.

Lee didn't answer.

"And then lie to me about it."

Still no answer.

"Parker," I said, quietly.

Parker placed his hands on hips, letting out a long sigh.

"Did you tell your therapist today?" Parker asked Lee.

Lee shook his head.

Parker crouched back down next to Lee, bracing his hands on the surfboard. "This is a big deal."

"It was just a slip-up," Lee defended. "It was stupid and it won't happen again."

I exchanged glances with Parker, and I could see the worry etched across his face.

"Everyone makes mistakes," I said, reaching across and squeezing Lee's hand. "What's important is that you understand that you can go to Parker about anything, and that if this happens again you're sure to tell him."

Lee nodded in agreement.

Parker stared at me, wordlessly.

"I think I'm going to surf," Lee muttered, before taking his surfboard out into the ocean.

"What the hell was that?" Parker demanded.

"He was feeling cornered and upset," I said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Parker sighed, taking a seat in the sand.

"You have to make him feel loved and understood, not cornered and embarrassed," I continued.

"It's my damn temper," Parker muttered. "I hate that he didn't tell me. I hate that he did it in the first place."

"You need to inform his school," I said, looking out into the ocean where Lee was paddling out to the waves.

"I know," Parker said, with a sigh. "I just can't stand the thought of him harming himself."

I scooched over next to him, giving him a tight squeeze on the shoulder. "All you can do now is remind him that you're here for him, and try to get him some help."

*************************************************************************************************************

So were you guys surprised by Parker's knowledge about the upcoming art exhibit? What about his denial in wanting to go? And then everything that happened there with Lee, thoughts and opinions on that?

The picture off to the right was submitted by SXshahadXS. Check out it! -->

This video is entitled Body Love by Mary Lambert. It was sent to me by dipdyed_hedgehogs, which is why this chapter is also dedicated to them. I think that it sums up Emily's struggles, and I literally cried watching it. So I'd like everyone to take a few minutes and watch the video. Let me know what you think.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

Teaser: Parker opens up about his resistance to the St. Pete Fine Arts Museum.