Overcome (8 page)

Chapter 17

     Carly

Carly fought to keep her eyes open, even with the creepy-spit-ball girl shooting ammo at her.  And the boy that always smelled like marijuana and body odor sat way too close. Did he not know what a straight line was? Why did he feel the need to scoot his desk over far enough for his knee touch hers?

Mr. Greasy-arm-pit-stains stood above her. “Miss Ley, I trust your reason for being lethargic this morning is because you were up working on algebra.”

She was up late working on the guy who helped her with algebra. “You could say that … I guess,” she yawned.

“Loser.” Spit ball girl coughed in her hand.

“Then you have your homework?” He tapped his finger on her desk. His nails were jagged and he had dirt under them.

“Well, see I would … but I woke up late and was rushing and I forgot it.”

“Not one of you has homework?” The teacher shook his head. “You know what?” He snapped as he backed up. “I don’t want to be here anymore than you do. It’s hot and I’d rather be fishing in the lake or watching television in my air conditioned apartment.” His voice escalated, and he stalked over to his desk. “If you guys don’t want to graduate, if you want to quit school now and work as waitresses or fry men or drug dealers, whatever.”

“You forgot stripper for Carly,” the boy with the B.O. called out with a chuckle.

Carly jerked her head around to glare at him. He smirked.

“My point is, I asked you on the first day if you were serious about this. I assumed the fact you didn’t leave meant you were.” Mr. Green glared around at the half dozen students sitting in the room. Carly stared up in shock.

“I’m done. I’m not wasting my time here anymore.” He stomped out of the room.

And for the first time the whole class was speechless.

Of course it was only for about thirty seconds, but to Carly it felt like forever.

Finally spitball girl spoke. “What a drama queen.”

This gained the laughter of the entire classroom, except Carly, as much as she didn’t want to be there, she needed the class to pass. Without even thinking about it, she shot up out of her seat and ran after him. “Mr. Greas … I mean Green.”

Mr. Green stopped and turned his face was pinched.

“I’m sorry. I really am.” Her voice rattled on the verge of tears. “I’m trying. I promise. Please don’t do this. I just had a really bad night.” She took in a deep breath and she couldn’t believe she was going to use it before the words even left her mouth. “I know it’s been months since the shooting, but …” tears rolled down her face and she prayed that the class wasn’t watching this. “… but I still have a hard time with it.” Everyone knew about that, it was easy to use. They didn’t know about the abuse.

His shoulders sagged, and his lips turned down. “You should talk to someone … a professional.”

“I will, but please don’t leave. I don’t want to fail again. And I promise my algebra homework will get done first thing after school every day.” She waved her hands in the air. She was thankful she couldn’t hear what the comment was that came from the classroom.

Mr. Green stared at her for a minute and she had no clue what he was thinking.

“When I went to school to be a teacher I thought if I made a difference in only one student then it would be worth it.” He looked over her shoulder to the classroom where Carly was sure everyone was hanging out watching. “As long as I see you trying, I’ll try too.”

“Thank you.” A weight lifted off her and she resisted the urge to hug him, she could only imagine what would be said about her if she did

*****

Just as she thought, when she got home from school, the bundle of red roses sat in the middle kitchen counter. She wondered if her dad bought a rose for each punch or he just chose the normal dozen.

She barely had time for a shower before her shift, and the first little pangs of a headache were beginning to form from the lack of sleep and stress. The algebra didn’t help much either.

Her mom didn’t come out of her room. They all knew why. Carly didn’t know why her mother tried to hide it like it was going to scar them. No, the late night shouting matches and battles had already done that.

She trudged into work with her damp hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“Carly,” Judd spoke the minute she was in the door.

“I’m not late.” She made her way straight to the cabinet behind the desk.

“How’s your mom?” he hovered over her.

Carly felt a little violated. He was invading her space.

“She’s fine, just has a touch of something.” Carly was sure that was the excuse she gave for not showing up. There was no way her mom could show up to work looking like she’d been in a bar fight.

Carly slipped her purse off her shoulder and hung it on the hook then tossed her backpack on the ground. Her algebra homework may have been done, but she still had to study The Civil War.

“I just needed a few things.” Judd backed away and ran a hand over his head. “She’s okay though?”

“I didn’t talk to her.” Carly turned toward the computer to clock in.

Glancing up at the door when it chimed was a mistake. Parker stalked in, the bill of his hat so low Carly couldn’t see his face. He past the front desk without looking up, escalating the humiliation she already felt about the night before. Carly stared back at the computer screen.

Last night, after the incident, she couldn’t sleep. She thought that Parker would be the perfect distraction. Her brain may not have been completely functioning at two in the morning. She’d felt something earlier that night, and all she could think about was kissing him in her sleep-deprived-daze. She should have known he wouldn’t want a girl like her. It wasn’t like she was expecting a relationship, just something to pass the time. She should have called Jake instead.

Her head cramped again when she retrieved her history text from her backpack.  Parker was gone, but Judd had to stay a little longer to cover for her mom. Carly had never known an assistant to do that for her before, and being the party boy Judd was, this surprised her.

She waited until he was back in the office before she slipped off her shoes and climbed on the counter. She flipped open the text book.

Lincoln, north, south, slavery, The Gettysburg Address.

Just thinking about all the information she had to retain made her head hurt worse.

But sometime between school and now, the subtle ache had turned into a throb. She rubbed her temples as the words on the page began to twist together into nonsense.

The picture of Lincoln in the tall hat glared at her.

“Carly, off the counter.” Judd’s voice was exasperated.

She slid off and looked up. The top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He stalked behind the counter and grabbed the stack of paper work sitting in the tray.

“You know you can do all this tomorrow.” She squinted, trying to relieve some pressure.

“Are you okay?” Judd’s voice was distant and concerned as everything in the room blurred.

Carly shook her head and braced herself, her hands flat on the counter.

“Do you need to sit?”

“My head is pounding.” She realized this headache wasn’t going away, nor was it easing up. That’s what she got for being awake since midnight the night before.

“Do you need to take something?”

“Probably,” she whispered as the world faded in and out of focus and all she could do was close her eyes to relieve the pressure.

“You need to go home. I’ll stay here, cover your shift.”

“You’ve been here all day.” She didn’t know why she argued with him. It wasn’t like she’d be able to work even if she only had one or two patrons come through.

Judd cursed under his breath. “You can’t drive, can you?”

She could barely stand, there was no way she could drive.

“I’ll get some aspirin from your mom’s office and find you a ride home.” He placed a hand on her back and one on her arm.

He walked her to the sofa in the lobby and she hurt too bad to argue. Carly lay down on her side and closed her eyes, anything to ease the pain.

*****

Out of everyone one in the world, why him?

She didn’t have the strength to argue when Judd walked her out to the Jeep. Thankfully, the top was up.

He didn’t have to worry about her coming on to him, because all she wanted to do was sleep.

Through her muddled mind and slit eyes, she noticed her chicken picture still hanging off his dash.

Judd’s voice was a low mumble as he gave directions to Parker. Carly rested her head back and closed her eyes as she sank into the leather seat.

His radio blared when he started it up. Carly winced, but didn’t speak.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry about that,” he mumbled. She didn’t care if he was sorry or not, she was just relieved he turned it down.

“Are you cold, hot, do you need air?”

Carly groaned.

“I’ll get you home.” His voice was scratchy as he spoke. She didn’t open her eyes or respond to him.

Chapter 18

Parker

Parker didn’t want to wake Carly when he pulled into what he hoped was the correct driveway. Some crazy lady sat on the porch in yoga pants and a long sleeved tee shirt. It was sweltering out.

Parker climbed out of the Jeep and rushed to the passenger side. He lifted her off the seat in slow motion so he wouldn’t disturb her.

Once she was cradled in his arms, her head fell on his chest, and she let out a small whimper.  Her feet hung over his forearm and her hands went limp in her lap.

The fruity smell that he’d come to associate with Carly was stronger with her damp hair close to his face.

Crazy lady made her way to him taking long quick strides as he carried Carly toward the house.  “Did she pass out?” she asked. When she was near he could see the beads of sweat forming on her forehead above the pair of sunglasses on her face.

“I don’t think so, but she’s been in and out of sleep.”

“Follow me.” She turned and headed toward the house.

He didn’t know why she told him to follow her, where else was he going to go?  He walked in behind her, through the kitchen where a big bouquet of roses sat on the counter and a mess of papers on the table.

She led him down a short hallway where she opened the first door on the right.

Purple everywhere. Who knew there were so many shades of purple?

“I’m Amy.” She pulled down the covers the color of grape juice.

Carly stirred when he lay her down. He tried to not think of the fact he was in her room, laying her in her bed. Especially since her mom was standing a few feet away.

A soft moan came out of Carly as she curled into a ball on her side. Her mom covered her and shut out the light. The sun shining through the sheer curtains still illuminated the room.

“Is she going to be okay?” Parker whispered.

Her mom looked up at him, the sunglasses now removed, and he wasn’t sure if he was seeing right, but it looked like there was a dark ring around her eye. It was almost as if she caked makeup on it to cover, but wasn’t successful.

“It’s a migraine,” Amy whispered back. “She’s been getting them since …” She stared at Carly for a minute, causing Parker to glance down again.

She seemed different, more vulnerable now. Her face wasn’t scrunched up in its normal posture, but soft.

“Would you like some tea?” Amy stepped past him and waved her hand.

No, might have been the correct thing to say. It would definitely be the smart thing to say, but as he opened his mouth to thank her and turn down the offer, that wasn’t what came out.

“Sure, thanks.” He followed her back into the kitchen

        In the brighter light, he knew that definitely was a shiner around her eye.

“I can’t thank you enough for bringing her home,” Amy said, now standing at the sink with her back toward him.

“You can move that junk and sit down,” she said.

He looked at the pile of books on the kitchen chair.

“We’re hardly ever home. The kitchen table is our catch-all. So much for the family meal, right?” She poured iced tea into a tall glass.

Amy carried two cups around the kitchen counter and sat them on the table. She grumbled something about the mess and cleared a chair for him, because he hadn’t taken the initiative. She then cleared one for herself. When she eased into her seat, she stared at the pile of junk.

Parker couldn’t help but notice the bright orange algebra text book in the center of the chaos. A paper stuck out of it with big loopy math problems.

“I’ve been helping Carly with her algebra. Do you care if I check her work?” He reached for the book, though he didn’t know why she would mind. He didn’t want to just start grabbing at things.

“She didn’t tell me she had a tutor,” Amy sighed and waved her hand. “Go ahead.”

When Parker opened up to the page she was on and saw her homework he knew it was wrong.

“Carly doesn’t tell me things,” Amy’s voice was robotic. “I always thought we’d be close, but …”

Parker glanced up from Carly’s horrible paper to look at Amy.

She stared at him, her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head. “What’s your name again?”

“Parker,” he said, though he didn’t know why she said
again
when he hadn’t told her.

She blinked as if there was something in her eyes and her lips pursed. “What’s your last name?” Before he could answer she shook her head. “It couldn’t be.”

“Harris.”

Her eyes, a shade lighter than Carly’s, widened.

“Parker Harris, son of Mindy Brown and Daniel Harris?”

A rock fell in his gut.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know who his birth parents were, but knowing and hearing it were two different things.

“Mindy did give birth to me, but I don’t consider myself her son.” He looked back down at the paper and lifted the purple pencil.

      A gasp came out of Amy. “Do you remember me? Of course you don’t.”

His attention was back on her now. Was he supposed to remember her? As he looked at her face, it was like she morphed. She became a little thinner, her hair grew much longer and lightened a couple of shades, the small lines around her lips and in the corners of her eyes disappeared along with the black eye. But that lasted as quickly as it came and she looked the same as she did before.

“Have you seen Bree?”

He still couldn’t figure out why he was supposed to know her. Carly and Bree both had mentioned they’d been friends all their lives. It was possible.

“Carly took me to see her last night,” he nodded, “and I spent the afternoon with her today.” He looked back down at Carly’s paper and began to erase the problems that were obviously wrong.

“That’s great, you two were close.”

Flakes of purple eraser scattered across the page as the problems disappeared. Why weren’t there erasers for life?

“Should I know you?” He tilted his head back up to her.

Her lips formed a small smile. “We were neighbors.” Then she stood up and walked away.

Parker scratched the back of his head and looked at her untouched glass of tea. He hadn’t taken a drink of his either.  What was she doing? Just walking away? He looked back down at the homework. He knew it was wrong, but he needed something to keep his mind off the weirdness. The problem was gone, and he began to rework it. He focused on writing in big bubbly numbers like Carly. He felt horrible she wasn’t comfortable enough to come to him for help. But why would she? He shouldn’t have been such a wimp last night and just ran after her and made her talk to him. But he didn’t want to try to fix her. He didn’t
need
to try to fix her. Just like she’d said he had enough of his own stuff to deal with.

He didn’t hear when Amy came back to the room. He only noticed when the photograph fell on the table beside the algebra book. The pencil stopped moving and he had to take another look. A blond haired little girl in pigtails and a polka-dot bikini with ruffles smiled at the camera while a scrawny shaggy-brown haired boy in superhero swimming shorts was leaning beside her, kissing her on the cheek.  The ribs showing on the boy was a stark contrast to the belly poking out of the middle of the bikini on the girl.

In the background of the photo was a little brunette stepping into a kiddie pool and a dark haired boy pulling her ponytail.

Parker stared for he didn’t know how long before he finally spoke, “Is this?”

Amy slid into her chair. “You and Carly in the foreground and Bree and Hudson in the pool and yes, Hudson got a spanking after I took that picture,” she laughed. “I thought it was adorable of you and Carly. That was right before we moved.” She folded her hands under her chin and looked at the photograph.

It seemed she forgot about her black-eye. She was no longer trying to hide it from him.

“We lived in the same low-income apartments. You guys were next door. That’s how I met your mom, and Carly and Bree became friends. Then Scott and I bought this house. I was always taking care of you … when she wouldn’t.”

“I was so skinny.” One thing Parker did remember was the stomach pangs.

“Believe me, when you were at my house, I fed you. That would be the first thing you’d say when you walked in my door, ‘Amfeey, you dot any cheecken nubbets?’” She stared at him like she still saw that hungry little boy from next door. 

Parker glanced down at the paper again.

Amy gasped. “Oh, I wasn’t making fun of your speech problem. I’m sorry … I didn’t mean it to come out that way. I always thought it was cute.”

“Mindy said I was stupid.” He couldn’t believe those words actually left his mouth. He never talked about what little he did remember of her.

There was a short pause and he continued to work on Carly’s problems.

“I remember,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I always made sure I told you how special you were. You were such a sweetheart. You know you told me you wanted to marry Carly?” Amy spun her drink around.

Parker felt his face flush. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he knew what he was saying when he was five years old. He didn’t even remember Carly.  But whatever his five-year-old self thought of her, his eighteen-year-old self was thinking similar things, only maybe a little more grown up.

“Who knew when you stuck up for her when her brother was bullying her that you’d still be taking care of her thirteen years later?” Amy said.

And that was exactly what he was doing. He drove her home, carried her to her bed and now he was correcting her homework. Parker needed to leave, but he couldn’t.

Her voice was almost a whisper when she said, “Carly’s had a rough year, so whatever you’re doing to make it easier for her, thank you. I can see you’re still a sweetheart.”

Guilt twisted his insides. He wasn’t a sweetheart when he let her walk away last night. Though he’d rather not be considered a sweetheart anyway, it was such an unmanly word.

“No problem,” he replied and went back to the math homework. That he understood. Numbers he could control he could put in the correct places to make sense. He couldn’t say the same for his feelings.