Hallmark Moments

The Memory

One week passed by with the hype still going on. I've come to the conclusion that no one in Deacon High would ever believe that I had a heart. Or feelings. Maybe I should crank up my acting, I mean this is completely ridiculous. People are still scared of me even though I don't show them the finger anymore and I don't act so much like a complete b***h. Sure, I lose my temper once in a while but come on!

But I guess every cloud has its silver lining and that silver lining happened to be Hayden who took it on herself to become a leech, which I didn't mind much despite the fact that she was a cheerleader. But I wouldn't put it over her that she was under Phoebe's thumb. In fact, Phoebe seemed to be afraid that Hayden would snatch the throne away from under her.

Hayden was pretty much the girl I had wanted to be when mom was still around. A princess with attitude. I was a spunky four year old for quite some time, so what? She was sweet, smart, funny and sarcastic all at the same time. I couldn't find a time when I was with her that I didn't crack up. Slowly but surely, it was because of Hayden that I got accepted by the popular circle. And I guess Parker played a part in it because seriously, even I have to admit, my winning demeanour wasn't what pleased them. Add to the fact that they had wanted to sink their claws into Parker for so long and I had a feeling that it was because of my position that he held back. I sometimes wonder why he ever stuck with me the whole time.

Okay, I'll stop pitying myself. Don't give me that look.

Okay...people have finally accepted that I am not an android set to destroy Deacon High with my immovable emotions and scary ways of dealing with my problems. Hey, it wasn't my fault that that freshman pissed his pants and didn't come to school for two days straight afterwards. He wasn't supposed to be in my way when I had just finished a Calculus test. Everyone knew Calculus was my weakest subject.

With the acceptance of almost everyone, came great responsibility. I had to be at social gatherings and booze-induced parties where massive orgies were held.

Just kidding. At least about the booze.

Okay, I'm kidding. There is alcohol. And drugs. And drunken teenagers making out in the dark and in the light. Drunken teenagers throwing themselves at sober teenagers and the other way around. Drunken teenagers throwing themselves at each other...general teenagers throwing themselves all around. Curious screams and noises coming from behind closed doors. I don't see who would want to go in there.

Parker took everything in stride, as I knew he would, him being Mr. Suave. He fitted perfectly into the mould that is high school normalcy. Girls fawned over him, guys flocked around him. It was nauseating to see how Parker changed immediately when he stepped foot into the houses that held the parties.

No one seemed to take notice of me even when I was right beside Parker. Well, my white shirt and black pants just blended into the dark so why would anyone notice? It gave me a great opportunity to finally see what exactly teenagers in another life acted without me around. (Yes, I noticed the stiffness everyone went about whenever I was around in school. Pshaw...an ant would have noticed it.)

I had discovered that alcohol makes a person spill out things they never thought would leave their mouth. Spit and vomit included. But by being with these drunken girls and boys, I found out so many things about them that I never knew was possible. And in turn, they tell me exactly how they felt about me. Those shocking confessions made me laugh most of the time. I mean, Keli, 15, California had told me that she thought I was the Wicked Witch of the West incarnated and she spat on me because it had worked in the Wizard of Oz. She ran off when she found that I was still there, trying to wipe most of the saliva with my T-shirt.

Then, Danny Baker, a transfer student from Milwaukee told me that if he were to put a mirror from Snow White in front of me and asked 'Who was the most wicked of them all,' the mirror would just smash into thousands of little pieces.

A certain Carla Dunn mentioned to me during her drunken state that the image of me scowling at her had made being bulimic easier. Huh. Don't say I was not good for anything.

I stumbled upon two boys making out in one laundry room at one of the houses one Saturday night. They actually pulled me in and made me swear on the washing machine that everything I saw would stay in the four walls of that laundry room. I was like, tchah...this washing machine ain't even mine. After I promised that I wouldn't tell anyone, they resumed their position even before I could run to the door. I heard a gurgled moan from behind me as I hurriedly closed the door behind me. That was one nightmare I do not wish to see again. Not that I wasn't okay with what the boys it's just...I don't want ever want to be a spectator to two boys with raging hormones getting their freak on. Scratch that. I don't ever want to be involved in any way to anyone getting their freak on.

Time crawls really slow if you have nothing to do at a party but wait until the person who drove you to said party is ready to go home so I decided one of the party days - Friday night, second week of our agreement (parties were every fortnight at designated houses where parents were seldom home) - that I would bring a book. It turned out to be the dumbest idea I ever had because my precious 'King Dork' by Frank Portman became a tissue for someone who spewed his guts out. Chunks of it actually got stuck in my hair and most of my shirt but that could be salvaged. But my 'King Dork'...that was just plain rude. So I swung a fist at the i***t. He retaliated and we ended up being cheered on by several of my drunken schoolmates as we got our noses bloody and my shirt got wetter and wetter with all the alcohol the asshole sprayed on me to 'calm me down'. Parker ended the fight by picking me up so easily by the waist.

Suffice to say, the night ended with my 'King Dork' being dumped into the trash can and me at Parker's house trying hard to clean myself up for the ride home.

A brand new 'King Dork' was sitting on my bedside table when I woke up the next morning. Inside, it had a signed note saying: 'Note to self. Never get drunk while someone is reading this book.' -Ian Salinger.

I tried looking for the dude the next Monday but someone had told me that he had transferred school after someone saw him talking to Parker. I actually felt a little bad.

It was the Tuesday of the third week of our arrangement that I had a feeling something bad was going to happen. The night before, I was with Parker in my bedroom, him spoon feeding me his mom's delicious chicken soup. I didn't speak until a litre of chicken soup was snug and warm in my tummy.

That was a ploy to shut me up. 'That was a ploy to shut me up.' I stuck my tongue out at him as I advanced to the small tub of ice-cream. 'Twas.' Parker chuckled and pulled his feet up on the bed and faced me while I ate. At times, I fed him and at times he stole the spoon from me. That continued until the tub was clean.

'So...how's...how are you feeling about this arrangement?' Parker asked when we deposited everything into the clear bag that he had brought with him. I looked at him as he stowed the bag away on the floor.

'By 'this' you mean me being your girlfriend to chase away the one girl that I know you have feelings for?'

The change in Parker's facial expression told me that what I had been thinking was true. It had always been there, that niggling feeling, bugging me and telling me that there was a reason why Parker wanted to use me. Sometimes, even I amaze myself.

'I knew you liked her.' I whispered with a smile I hoped didn't portray what I was feeling at the moment, a furious mix of disappointment (of all people he had to like the one girl I didn't like), anger (seriously, of all people Phoebe too dumb even for a blond Daniels?) and funnily enough...sadness.

'I don't.' Through his defiance, I saw panic.

'Parker...I can read you like a book. Of course you like Phoebe. I mean...you're using her number one enemy to make her notice you. Do you really think she would easily back down now that she's seen how into me you are?' That sounded so wrong in so many degrees but hey, I needed to make a point there. 'She wouldn't want to lose someone like you over someone like me and that would make her have the want to chase you.' I decided to prod one more needle into my own heart as I witnessed a moment that would probably change our whole friendship. 'And that is exactly what you wanted when you thought of using me to orchestrate that feeling in her.' I tilted my head a bit and gave him what I hoped was a condescending look.

The expression on his face after I said everything was a new one. I didn't recognise it at all and that made reading him so much harder. Dang it, why is Parker such a damn enigma?!

Then I remembered this memory that had imprinted itself into my mind. It was when we were in the ninth grade. Phoebe had called me on the obvious. The fact that I didn't have friends and I was only dragging Parker down with me when he could have been one of the awesome, the popular ones in school. I knew that was a fact, I was dragging Parker down but I just kept quiet. From then on, she has been going around telling everyone how she had finally beaten me, the Ice Queen b***h. I was even more of an outcast after that.

And of course, it wasn't much help that Josephine had told everyone in the cafeteria about how my mother died. She also added that I was the one who killed her because I was such a baby that I wanted so hard for my mother to send me to that stupid mall to buy that stupid dress for that stupid pageant I wanted so much for her to be with me. Of course everyone believed her because Josephine had this commanding air around her that practically demanded everyone to listen to her and her alone. After that day, everyone pretty much just steered clear of me. I didn't mind. Parker was there all the time, but it still hurt. I know that was how I got to be who I am now.

That memory got me thinking...why had Parker stayed with me through those times? I mean...he was at an age where he could easily be moulded into being one of Deacon High's Most Wanted. Yet he stayed with me. Did he have such a sense of loyalty and friendship that he just had to show everyone thus hanging closer to me? Or was he beyond moulding that he knew there was a purpose of him being friends with me? I had always known Parker was smarter beyond his age.

Even when we first met when we were younger.

I was still in the second grade. Just seven and a half years old at the time and defiant beyond belief. I hated my teachers, I hated my classmates and I hated the subjects. In turn, everyone hated me due to the lies I spread that sometimes were coincidentally true. I put up such a stubborn front that no one ever knew that I went home crying every day and I would sometimes cry in the bathroom when I knew everyone would be in their own classes.

That is, until Parker saw me in the park, knees tucked under my chin. It was after school and I didn't want to go back and face dad and Jonathan with tears staining my face. I was just sitting under a tree, tears silently making its way down my cheeks and chin and down to my scuffed jeans.

That day was a particularly rough day. Someone somehow found out that I was the daughter of an actress and they said that their parents knew that my mother wasn't exactly the purest of actresses. They said that she had extorted money from a big company to pay for my grandmother's medical bills. That was before I was born. So anyway, this kid told everyone that my mother was a thief. Then everyone came to the conclusion that I would have the thievery gene so everyone completely shunned me from sitting with them or playing with them. Even the teachers didn't allow me to be in classes before they started. No one trusted me at all. It was one thing for kids your age to hate you and make up stupid rumours but to have the adults who had to have rational thinking distrust you like that when you're only seven…that was too hard for me to handle.

Anyway, I ran out of school early and I guessed Parker had followed me. He crept up on me and scared the hell out of me that I beat him up. He successfully pinned me down at one stage and he was smiling freely, his nose dripping blood on to my white button-up blouse. 'I knew you could be broken down.' He had said softly in his native tongue. I was angered by what he said so I pushed myself against him and pinned him down to the ground. I told him that he didn't know anything about me. He proved me wrong by saying that he knew where I hid at 2 40 pm every day and what I do. He said he knew that my mom wasn't that kind of person and he knew exactly how my father and brother treated me.

I didn't want to give up that easily so I beat him up until he coughed up blood. I had split his eyebrow and blood was trickling down from the open cut. What surprised me was that he was still smiling and he didn't cry at all. All he did was wipe away the blood with the sleeves of his black t-shirt and sat up; giving me a handkerchief he took out from the back of his pocket. It was plain and white and had the letters P and R embossed on the left corner. He asked me to use it to wipe away the blood from my nose. I declined but he insisted on it.

'I'm right though aren't I?' Parker asked, in English this time but with a very thick accent, after we were semi-clean. Parker was still bleeding from his open cut. I didn't answer him, instead I gave him back his handkerchief and he pressed it on his cut. He prodded me again with the question until I shrugged. I knew he was right on all accounts but I, being a Delaine, was too stubborn to admit it.

'I'm Parker by the way. Parker Rosdale.' He gave his hand for me to shake. 'It's my birthday today…can we get some ice-cream as celebration?'

I was too shocked to say anything so he pulled me up and we got some ice-cream from an ice cream truck and ate at a bench while Parker told me all sorts of stuff. Some he said in French, some in English.

I then asked him why he was doing all this and he said it was because he liked me. He told me about us always having the same class every day and we sat next to each other at all times but I never once looked his way but he definitely took notice of me. He had tried countless of times to win my friendship but to no avail. But that day, he decided enough is enough. Today would be the day he befriended the weird dark haired girl who was always in the world's face. I laughed at his comment and we became inseparable.

Til now...I guess.

Wait...why the hell am I overreacting about this? Oh my God...don't let me lose my friend. I mean...I have a sense of stability in school now but I still needed Parker. Parker was my rock. Parker was the reason why I was standing on my two feet. I love him, damn it! I won't admit that out loud but hell. I love him.

'You're shitting me, aren't you Cammie? I mean...Phoebe? Jeez!' I saw the shift in his eyes. It was a flash and I could be mistaken but I saw it. He might be telling the truth. Oh God, please let him be telling me the truth.

'Cammie,' his hand cupped my cheek and forced me to look up. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead. He looked into my eyes. 'I don't like Phoebe. Trust me.'

Please hold on to your promise, Parker. Because there will be hell to pay if you don't.