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“Dork,” Tommy laughed under his breath. “These two are wallflowers, Camilla, but I’ll dance with you.”
“Really?” she asked, lifting up from her seat.
“As long as Daddy Parker says it’s ok,” Tommy took Camilla’s hand, twirling her into a giggle-filled spin.
Parker didn’t look at anyone, he just poked the fire with his metal rod. “I’m not your daddy. And you certainly don’t need my permission. No one does.”
Tommy handed me his marshmallow and crackers, practically chasing a screaming Camilla before Parker could finish his sentence.
Quietly, I placed a cracker on my knees, building a layer of chocolate before squishing down a large, melted marshmallow. The fire popped into specks of light as Tommy and Camilla slowly disappeared, their singing and dancing far too distant to be heard over the calming crash of dark foamy waves.
Parker and I were quiet, but not too quiet, as Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You” played faintly from the empty bar.
“Die happy?” I teased, blowing on my s’more to cool it down.
“Happy doesn’t even begin to describe it,” he returned, his voice as soothing as the ocean. “It’s much more than that.”
“Then, what is it exactly?”
Parker paused.
A wave crashed again, fizzling before any response.
“It tastes like home, it tastes like something so simple, so meaningful, that I can’t help but crave it every second of every day,” he answered seriously, licking the chocolate from his finger. “But when I have it—that single bite, that single moment—feels irreplaceable.”
I didn’t respond, I only stared at him and listened, his eyes seeking me through the flames; their color much darker than the night, but vast and full just the same.
“Like being a kid all over again?” I finally asked, but Parker didn’t answer.
Camilla shouted from the shore, not deliberately getting our attention, but doing so nonetheless.
“She’s wrong, you know.” Parker looked out at her.
“Who’s wrong?”
“Camilla… what she said about me earlier, about me being agoodbig brother; it was complete bullshit. There’s a lot of things I should have been in the past, but a brother was never one of them, and believe me when I say this, Gemma, I’m nowhere close to that.” The s’more in my hand slipped away and tumbled into the sand, as I suddenly lost my grip.
“Shit,” I muttered, ruminating on his words.
Parker cracked his s’more in half and handed it to me. “Here, Butterfly,” he grinned. “Eat.”
I took it from him, my mouth dried with the echo of Camilla’s expertise:Men don’t just feed you for fun. Read the signs, girl.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“You never have to thank me. You’re too kind, you always have been, especially to me.”
“That’s not true,” I said quietly. “You deserve kindness, Parker, you’re my best friend.”
“I know what I am,” he scolded, “and you’re doing it again. You’re sweet, and you’re kind, and you deserve so much, and if I could say sorry to you every day I would, because complete recognition of my faults is everything that you deserve.”
“You really don’t have to say that—”
“I’m sorry, Gemma,” he interrupted. “I’m so, so sorry… I think about that night, about you and me, about what it took for you to say what you said and how I let you down. I don’t think you know how much I still live in that moment… if I could just go back, if I could just stop myself before ruining it, before hurting you… I would; I’d save you from my decision.” He looked down at my spilt dessert, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t… it’s sand on a s’more now. I wasted it, and I ruined it. And then I brought you to meet Mila, surprising you like it was some goddamn great idea to make you feel better, to make you feel like you weren’t some effect on my life when the truth is, you’re thegreatesteffect on my life.”
My fingertips literally burned, scorched from a set of nerves I never knew existed, but were somehow alerted by Parker’s honesty. “You think about that night?” I asked worried.
“Every day of my life. I think about you, and how wrong I was to spiral us into this situation, how it was you who took all the chances, you who was brave, when all along I made you believe something that wasn’t true, because honestly, I was afraid of hurting you. That wasn’t just wrong, that was evil, and I accept the consequences of that and the insurmountable work that it’ll take to earn whatever ounce of trust you give me… that is,ifyou choose to give me any.”
