I fiddled with the radio station again, looking out of the car window as Parker picked up a rock, tossing it into one of the bushes as he was talking to Lee.

They were sitting on the curb outside of Cornerstone, where they'd been for almost 45 minutes now. Lee's eyes had been bright with tears for about 40 of those minutes, whatever Parker was saying really hitting home.

And then Parker stood up, offering his hand down to Lee.

Lee grasped Parker's hand, pulling himself up as well.

Parker said something to him before pulling him in for a tight hug, holding him there for a few seconds.

I know that Parker was torn apart right now, and that this had been hard for him.

And then Parker led Lee inside the school, Lee trailing a bit behind.

I changed turned the radio off, switching it to Auxiliary and plugging my iPhone in.

Parker was going to have a fit when he came back.

It was only a few minutes before Parker emerged again, coming back out to the car.

"Hello," I greeted, with a smile.

"What the hell is this?" Parker asked.

"Natt and Alex."

"No."

"But I just bought it," I whined. "I haven't even had the chance to listen it yet."

"No."

"Asshole."

He changed it back to the radio, settling on a station before leaving Lee's school.

The first part of the car ride was silent, Parker clearly lost in his own thoughts.

But I can only ride for so long like that.

"So back to our earlier conversation," I said, angling my body so I was facing him.

"What conversation?" he asked, without looking at me.

"Why don't you want to go and see the ballet dancer guy at the St. Pete museum?"

"Rudolf Nureyev," Parker filled in. "And I told you, I just don't."

"Do I look like I'm five? That's not gonna fly with me."

He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, using the other to run his fingers through his hair.

Several minutes of silence passed, and I figured that Parker was just going to ice me out.

"You once asked me how I knew so much about art," Parker stated, catching me by surprise.

I nodded.

"My mom was an artist," he said, his jaw clenched. "And before her death she was working on a new exhibit."

I didn't expect this. I expected him to say that he'd been banned from the St. Pete museum, or that he'd had a bad experience there. But not this.

"And when she died," Parker continued, "the St. Pete Fine Arts Museum honored her by displaying her unfinished exhibit."

"Have you gone to see it?" I asked Parker, softly.

"No," he immediately answered. "And I don't want to."

I could feel some of Parker's heartbreak radiating off of him. I could feel the pain he'd been trying to lock up inside, and that he continued to try to lock up as he death-gripped the steering wheel in silence.

A few minutes of silence passed between us, as Parker regained himself, and I tried to collect my thoughts.

"Have you ever talked to someone?" I asked, after a few minutes.

Parker looked over at me this time, in surprise. "Talked to someone?"

I nodded.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes focusing back on the road. "After the accident."

"Have you ever considered going back?"

A few moments of silence passed between us again, and I was afraid that maybe I'd upset him.

I was worried for Parker. He kept all his emotions bottled inside, much like Lee. And he was trying to deal with all the grief and pain on his own.

"Not really."

I took his free hand in mine, bringing it up to my lips to kiss the back of his hand. "Remember when you knew that confronting me about my Anorexia would upset me, but it was the right thing to do in the long run?"

He nodded.

"I think you should consider talking to someone," I said, squeezing his hand before letting it drop back onto the center console. "Because it really hurts me to see you hurting."

He reached his free hand out around my seat, silent for a few moments.

I couldn't help but feel a spark of happiness inside at his small show of affection.

"I'll think about it," he said, after a few minutes of silence.

This time I reached over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. That's all I wanted to hear."

~*~

"Because you know I'm all about that bass, about that bass," I sang, pointing to Emmett.

"No treble," he filled in.

"I'm all about that bass, about that bass."

"No treble."

"I'm all about that bass, about that bass."

"Are these the only lyrics in this entire song?" Emmett asked, stopping the blender.

"I think so."

He laughed, pouring the contents of the blender into a glass.

"Is that for me?" Parker asked, coming into the kitchen. He swiped the glass from Emmett and took a sip.

"No," Emmett declined, taking the glass back.

"Definitely not," Parker agreed, making a face. "What the hell did you put in there?"

"Banana, strawberry, blueberry, kiwi-" Emmett began listing.

"Yeah, that's all I really needed to hear," Parker interrupted. "You need a lesson on smoothie-making."

Emmett opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off.

"Smoothies are disgusting no matter what you put in them," I said, before taking a bite of my cereal.

Both boys stared at me.

"What?" I asked, before using a napkin to wipe the milk mustache off my face.

"How can you say that?" Parker asked me, horrified.

He is such the drama queen, I swear.

"Because they're gross?"

"You've never had a real smoothie before," Parker informed me.

"I've had plenty of smoothies," I said, with a laugh.

"Tomorrow morning I'm making you a smoothie," Parker said, as he put his bagel down in the toaster. "And then we'll see."

"We've got to get going," Emmett said to me, checking the time. "I've got to get gas before school."

"You couldn't do that last night?" I complained, before taking the last bite of my cereal.

"She's riding to school with me," Parker said to Emmett.

Parker and I hadn't ridden to school together since he slept with that slut-bag Veronica.

"She is?" Emmett asked. "Does she know that?"

Both Parker and Emmett looked over at me.

"Okay," I said, looking at Parker.

~*~

"I got asked!" Emmett shouted, throwing open the apartment door.

I looked up from my laptop, looking over at him in surprise.

He jumped up on the coffee table, a smile on his face. "I got asked!" he repeated.

"Congratulations," I said, shutting my laptop. "Asked to do what exactly?"

He tossed the paper to me, jumping over to the couch and plopping down next to me.

I went to read the paper.

"I got asked to be on the Select Travel Team!" Emmett exploded, before I could even read the first sentence.

"Okay," I said, laughing as I handed the paper back to him. From his level of excitement I'm sure he was going to have the paper framed and hung or something. "And what does that mean?"

"It means-" Parker called from the kitchen.

I hadn't even heard him come in.

"Shut up!" Emmett called. "It means that I get to travel with a select group of guys from the state of Florida."

I stared at him in confusion. "Okay?"

"You're so awful at this," Parker called from the kitchen, laughing.

"What is there not to understand?" Emmett asked, confusedly.

"You haven't even mentioned the word soccer," Parker informed him.

"Oh."

"The Select Travel Team is a team of 16 guys from the state of Florida selected to spend the spring and part of summer travelling and playing in tournaments," Parker explained to me. "It's pretty elite."

"You should've let him explain it," I said to Emmett. "And congratulations! That's so exciting."

"Isn't it?" Emmett asked, jumping up to bounce on the couch. "I get to travel and play soccer and colleges get to come and look at me and I can get famous."

I rolled my eyes, laughing.

"You do not get famous," Parker disagreed. "But you do get a ton of notice from colleges."

"Did you play on it?" I asked Parker.

He nodded. "Last year."

"I'm going to frame and hang this," Emmett informed me, holding out his paper.

I knew it.

"I think we need to celebrate," Parker said, with a smirk.

"I know of at least three good parties tonight," Emmett babbled, excitedly.

"And Emily will be our DD."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You must be joking."

"Well someone has to do it," Parker defended. "And I've been the designated driver the past multiple parties."

"That's true," Emmett defended. "And I can't be DD because it's my night to celebrate."

"I hate going to a party to be sober."

"It's not that bad," Parker said, with a half-smile.

I looked at Emmett's excited face and let out a sigh. "Fine, but you two owe me."

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

So what did you guys think about Parker's admittance about his mom being an artist? And then her exhibit over at the St. Pete museum? Why do you think that he doesn't want to go and see it? What about Parker & Emily riding to school together again? Did that mean anything to you? And then the ending, when Emmett was asked to be on the Select Travel Team, anyone else excited for him?

The picture up there at the beginning was submitted by princess air_1. What do you think?

And yes, this chapter is short. All the other times you guys complain that the chapter is short, idk what you're talking about because they all run relatively the same length. But this one is short, so I'll give it you to there.

So don't forget that the One-Shot voting ends tonight at 10:00 PM. And please do not inbox me or post on my message board on who you think should win. That doesn't help your person at all. Go to their story and vote on it! That's the only way to ensure their winning-ness.

Teaser: Valentine's Day! Emily gets her hopes up... Does Parker deliver?