Inferno (16 page)

“I know, I know. You don't have to persuade me.”

I hesitate. “You said something once about maybe going back to school. Then you said, ‘Don't tell Jamie.'”
I try to meet her eyes but she is walking so fast that I practically have to jog to keep up. “What's going on?”

She shakes her head. “It's complicated.”

“You told me I had choices, okay? You helped me to see that.” I grab her wrist. “Parker. Stop.”

She stops walking and turns to face me. Her eyes are wet.

“You've got choices too,” I tell her. “You do.”

She is silent. I'm still holding her wrist, almost holding her hand, and she doesn't pull away. We stand there under a streetlight, in the slow cold drizzle, cars driving past. Water trickles down my face. Someone honks their horn as they drive by. Neon lights flash red, green, blue in the darkness. I feel like time is standing still.

“It's easy to talk about making choices,” Parker says at last. “But they have a way of biting you on the ass.”

“What do you mean?”

“You make one choice, and then all of a sudden you don't have the same choices you used to have. You think I like my life right now?”

Then Parker looks up at me with those pale eyes, and something flips and tumbles inside my chest. My heart is doing something crazy, falling from its precarious perch. I let go of her wrist and step back. “I don't know. Don't you?”

“It's not like I enjoy flipping pancakes at the Golden Griddle,” she says. “I have to pay the rent. God knows Jamie won't.” She starts to cry silently, big tears rolling slowly down her cheeks.

I put my arms around her and sneak a peek at my watch over her shoulder. Eleven forty-five. “Parker...you can't stay with someone who hits you.”

She cries harder, her whole body shaking.

I can feel the sharp edges of her shoulder blades beneath my hands. I close my eyes and wonder what she'd say if I told her I was falling for her, what she would do if she knew how I felt. Whether she'd push me away.

“He used to be different,” she says. She lifts her head from my shoulder and looks up at me again, and again my heart starts to go crazy.

Under the streetlight, I can see that her face is wet with tears, but she doesn't wipe them away.

“He hasn't had an easy time,” she says. “His family...”

“Oh please.” I'm suddenly furious and I'm not sure whether it's her or Jamie or myself that I'm angry with. “Give me a fucking break.”

For a moment I think she is going to get mad. Then she suddenly laughs. A bitter laugh, but a laugh all the same.

“You're right,” she admits. “But...what else would I do?”

“Whatever you want.”

We stare at each other in silence for a moment.

“Look at you,” she says. “You're soaked.”

“I'm okay. Parker...”

“I can't go back to my parents,” she says softly.

“What happened? I mean, did they...did they hurt you or something?”

“Not physically. Nothing like that. They just fought all the time. Yelling at each other, throwing things,
slamming doors. And it was always about me, always my fault.” She shakes her head. “They had...they had all these crazy rules, like I had to be home by eight o'clock. I mean, eight o'clock? I couldn't even do band at school because the concerts went later than that. The only remotely social thing I could go to was a Bible study group.”

“Wow. I thought my parents were strict.”

“That's just an example. I could go on and on. My dad's ex-military, and I swear, it was like boot camp or something. He'd decide what I could wear, who I could see, where I could go. I couldn't deal with it, you know?”

“No kidding. Who could?”

She gives me a small, crooked smile. “Well, I started seeing someone and they found out and freaked completely. Wouldn't let me go anywhere, drove me to and from school...I kind of lost it. I started running away and not coming home for days at a time. And I was doing a lot of drugs, Ecstasy and stuff, getting all screwed up.”

I remember something she'd said before, about Jamie. “You said Jamie sort of saved your life. Is that what you meant?”

“Yeah. I was acting kind of crazy, and my dad was totally losing it and taking me to all these shrinks, trying to get me locked up or something.”

“I don't think they usually lock people up. Not kids anyway.”

She shrugs. “He'd have liked them to give me a lobotomy, I guess. But they just kept me overnight and then prescribed a bunch of meds that I refused to take. So we
all ended up in family counseling, which was a nightmare because anything I said my parents would twist around and use against me, but the one good thing was that the counselor persuaded my parents to let me get a job.”

“The Golden Griddle?”

“Yeah. And then I met Jamie and moved in with him pretty much right away.” She grins. “Which I guess confirmed all my parents' fears about letting me work.”

“Wow. I guess so.”

She lifts her chin and looks up at me. “Jamie really did help me though. I stopped using drugs and everything.”

Parker's never said much about herself before, and I don't want her to stop talking, but I'm starting to get nervous about Leo showing up and seeing us. “That's great. I mean, I'm glad you moved out then. But now what, Parker? You can't go along with this business of burning down the school.”

“I know. But you heard Jamie this afternoon. He's all, ‘If you're not with us, you're against us.'”

“Yeah. I know. But you don't need them. You could get your own place. It's not like Jamie's helping you out any, with money, I mean.” I hesitate. “You could even go back to school, if you wanted to.”

“It wouldn't be that easy.”

“You could do it though.” I shove my cold hands into my jacket pockets. “We'd figure it out, Parker. We would.”

A small smile slowly lifts the corners of her mouth. “We? You and me?”

I'm not sure what I'm agreeing to, but I don't care.
“Yeah. You and me.” I meet her eyes, and my heart skips a beat. She has absolutely no idea how I feel. She has a boyfriend, I remind myself. She's straight, straight, straight. Forget it, Dante. Don't be stupid.

Parker wipes the tears from her cheeks with the palms of her hands. “Okay,” she whispers. She lets out a long shaky sigh and looks back down the sidewalk toward her place. “So...what do we do now?”

I swallow hard. “Let's get out of here,” I say. “Let's go somewhere. Boston, maybe. Or New York.”

I don't think I expected
Parker to agree. I just threw it out there: a crazy idea, an impulse. New York.

But Parker jumps on it. “Hell, yeah,” she says. She brushes the backs of her hands across her eyes, wiping tears away. “Let's go. My car's in front of the apartment.”

“Got your keys?”

She checks her jacket pockets. “Yeah. Lucky.”

We start walking and we're almost there when I see a station wagon pull over and park across the street. I grab Parker's arm. “Is that Leo?”

“Crap.” She opens the door to the pizza place and pulls me inside. “Do you think he saw us?”

“I don't know.”

We stand there under the bright lights, surrounded by the laughter and loud voices of mostly drunk customers, the sign in the window flashing
2 for 1 “slices
” in backward
writing, mirror writing. Leo gets out of his car and heads toward us.

“Crap,” Parker says again.

I can't think what to do.

“Can I help you girls?” the man behind the counter asks impatiently. “Or were you planning just to stand there admiring the view?”

I spin around. “Yes! Um, two slices of pepperoni and pineapple.”

Parker looks at me like I've lost it. “You're not seriously thinking about food right now?”

I smile tightly. “Play along, okay?”

There is a cool draft as the door opens, and I turn around. “Hey! Leo.”

He tilts his head quizzically. “Dante? What are you doing here?”

“Lawson was such an ass this afternoon,” I say. “I decided you were right. Screw it. I'm in.” I raise one eyebrow. “If it's not too late?”

“You're in?” He grins. “I figured you just got nervous earlier. We shouldn't have sprung it on you like that.”

I feel a pang of guilt, lying to him. Part of me wants to trust him, give him a chance, try and talk him out of doing this. But I can't risk it. “Tell Jamie we'll be up in a minute. You want anything?”

“Nah. See you upstairs.” He heads back out, and the guy behind the counter slides two hot greasy slices toward me. I take my time finding my money, giving Leo time to get up the stairs.

Beside me, Parker is in a fit of giggles. “Oh god, oh god. You were so cool. He had no idea.”

I hand her a slice of pizza. “Eat up. It's a long way to New York.”

She starts laughing harder. “We're going? We're really going?”

“We're really going,” I say.

Two minutes later, we are in her car, pulling away from the curb and laughing hysterically.

“I don't have any of my stuff,” Parker says. “Any clothes or anything. I can't believe we're doing this.”

I check my wallet. I have thirty-five bucks. “Um, Parker? How much gas do we have?”

“Full tank.” Parker turns on the radio. “And my money's under the seat. If I leave it in the apartment, Jamie spends it.”

“Yeah? How much?”

“Not much. Ten bucks, maybe.”

I turn up the heat, shivering in my damp clothes. Forty-five bucks isn't going to get us all the way to New York, but I figure we can sort out those details along the way. The wind-shield wipers slap back and forth and the Plain White T's are on the radio, singing, “Hey there, Delilah.” Parker turns it up, and I laugh, singing along: “‘What's it like in New York City...'”

“It's a sign, Parker,” I say. “An omen. You know, I've always wanted to go to New York. We could ride the subway and go to Times Square and...”

“We could do anything,” Parker says. “We could do anything we want.” She turns onto the highway. The digital clock on the dashboard reads twelve o'clock.

We made it, I think. We got away. I roll down my window, stick my face out into the rain and let out a loud whoop. I can hear Parker's laugh, the music on the radio, the sound of the tires racing along the wet road. We're leaving it all behind: my parents, Mr. Lawson, Jamie and Leo, the burning school.

Not our problem anymore.

We are heading out of town when Parker says, “You think we should call? I mean, the guys might think, I don't know. That something happened to us.”

“What, like we got kidnapped by the pizza shop guy?” I still feel giddy and light-headed, on the edge of laughter.

“Yeah.” She giggles; then she turns serious. “They'll worry. You know they will.”

“Whatever. Too bad for them.” But I wish she hadn't said it. I'm crashing back down to earth, the euphoria suddenly gone. I bite my lip, thinking. I'm going to have to call my parents. They'll be wrecks if they get up in the morning and I'm not there.

Parker looks sideways at me. She has an odd expression on her face—sort of challenging but curious too. “Leo really likes you, you know. He told me.”

“I like him too. Just not that way.”

“He's such a good guy though. And he's cute, don't you think?”

“Yeah, well. I guess I just don't want to get involved with anyone right now.” It's such a lie. I'd get involved with Parker in a second, given the chance.

“Probably a good call.” Parker sighs. “I feel so confused about everything. I don't know how it all got so messed up.” She drums her fingers on the steering wheel. “I still think schools are basically prisons.”

“Sure they are,” I say. I remember the first time I saw her, and I laugh. “Woof, woof. You are not a dog...”

She laughs too, but there is something sad about it. “It's all over, isn't it? Our group. All of that.”

I think for a minute. “It doesn't have to be,” I say at last. “But...well, you're done with Jamie, right?”

She nods, but her eyes slide away from mine. My heart sinks.
I love you, Parker
. I let myself imagine, just for a second, saying the words out loud. I wonder what she'd do. Get all freaked out, maybe, or pretend she thinks I mean I only love her as a friend. I close my eyes and lean my hot cheek against the cool glass of the window. It doesn't make the slightest bit of difference how I feel, because she's never going to feel the same way about me.

There's a long pause and then Parker says, “What do you mean, it doesn't have to be over?”

She is watching the road, eyes straight ahead, lips slightly parted. Her face, in profile, is so perfect. I clench my fists and try to drag my thoughts back to the conversation. The one that is actually happening, not the crazy one
in my head. “Well...you and I can do what we want, right? I mean, we could keep doing the kind of thing you were doing. Flyers, you know. And talking to people.”

“I guess so.” Her voice is flat.

“I know it'd be different, without the others. But it might be better, even.”

She glances at me. “Better how?”

“Well...It seemed like we were always against everything, you know? Anti-compulsory education, anti-war, anti-this, anti-that.”

“So? What choice is there? I mean, we're not going to be pro-war, or—”

I cut her off. “I know, I'm not explaining myself well. I just thought...well, maybe we could think about what we stand
for
, you know? Like, being for peace instead of against war.”

“It's the same thing. It's just different words.”

I suddenly feel tired and sort of depressed. “Maybe.”