Chapter 14.

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School couldn't have been more unwelcome. I slugged myself into school in the hopes of seeing only two people: Hanna and Blake and in the hopes of never coming into contact with Parker. That was probably impossible, seeing that we had gym today and there was no way in hell that Coach wouldn't turn up. He'd have to do more that die to not turn up in school. I groaned inwardly, but forgot everything as soon as I saw Blake standing by my locker. He was smiling at me and happiness washed over me as I walked over to him.

"Hey, Alex," he said, slowly in his low voice.

"Hey," I whispered back to him.

I was oddly conscious of everything I was doing as he watched me take and put book into my locker. When I finally closed the door, he straightened up and looked down at me, biting his lip. "Hey, uh, I wanted to ask you something."

My heart skipped. "Sure."

"Come on." He jerked his head towards the school yard and started walking. I followed him, unsure of what was coming.

He walked up to an empty table and sat down, motioning for me to do the same. I sat in front of him. "OK," he said, "It's not a big thing. It's just that my big sister is coming home soon and she's getting married, so I wanted to ask if you'd come and help me pick out a little gift for her, like jewellery or something."

I breathed out in relief that he wasn't asking me what I thought he would. If he did, I'm sure I wouldn't have known how to answer. I like him, but I'm not sure how much I like him or if I like him like that at all. I smiled at him. "Sure," I replied, "Shall we go today?"

Blake flashed me a bright smile, his eyes shining. "Thanks, Alex."

*

"So shall we do something after school?" Hanna asked me, during French period, while a surprisingly subdued Ms. Sorrento handed out our next play for French class. So far, I hadn't been cast as lead with Parker again and neither did I have to finish that horrible play. I'd been happily stationed in the backdrop for sometime. Something Ms. Sorrento isn't exactly pleased about. It didn't seem to be the only thing she wasn't pleased about. When she walked back to her desk and looked at us, her face was stone and unmoving.

"Class," she said in a fragile voice, like she was going to burst into tears at any moment, "I have horrible news."

I braced myself. Most things that were bad to Ms. Sorrento were bad for me, too. She took a deep breath and scrunched up her eyes. "Our play for the showcase has been cancelled," she practically wailed, "They said that no one would understand a French play."

She dropped into her seat, while there was a wave of happiness that went through the class. I dropped my shoulders, happy that I wouldn't have to play Juliet to Parker's Romeo anytime soon in French.

"We'll just have to showcase our talents here, inside this class. Bound by these four walls and give all of you no creative expression whatsoever," she burst out, "I had such a wonderful play planned. Romeo and Juliet in French is such a wonderful play and I had the most lovely parts planned for all of you."

She leaned back in her chair mumbling a few words like, "Green eyed Romeo."

My breath hitched. I was so glad it wasn't happening. Parker would have found some way to make my life miserable and embarrass me on stage if it was. Hanna rolled her eyes and smiled at me. I gave her a weak smile. The class was the most dry French period I had ever had because Ms. Sorrento was in such a terrible mood. I almost wished we had some way of doing the play, just for her so that she wasn't so sad.

When I mentioned it to Hanna and Jackson, they considered it. "Well, it's a nice thought, Alex," Jackson nodded to me, "But getting everyone else on board might be a problem." Hanna nodded and I sighed.

"I thought the same thing."

*

"Archery," Coach barked at us, "Is one of the most ancient art forms; one of the oldest ways of battling. Respect the bow and arrow and for God's sake try to hit the target. One from each team at a time. Step up. Hanna, Jackson, you're up first."

Hanna sighed, knowing she was going to be hopeless. She had never picked up a bow and arrow in her life. Well, most of the class hadn't. I watched her, cringing. At least all the hardcore shopping helped her gain some upper body strength to lift the bow and arrow. After a few hopeless shots, Coach made Hanna stop and Jackson a little while after her. He hit the board, but not even near the bullseye. I stood around, hoping I wouldn't have to fire, because I hadn't done it in a long time and I didn't want Parker to have any ammunition to laugh at me even though it was because of him that I had actually learnt to fire an arrow.

Eight Years Ago

"Parker you know I'm hopeless," I whined. Parker rolled his eyes as he pulled me towards the open field. He rolled his eyes at me, smiling.

"Get over yourself, Alex," Parker teased me, "You're great. It's just that you get psyched out every time you get confident enough to hit the target."

I pouted and let him drag me along with him. My bow slung across my chest I followed him out into the open field, where our target stood, challenging me. Twenty feet away from it, Parker made me stop and said, "OK. Now shoot."

I looked at him, dubiously. Taking a deep breath, I took out an arrow and hooked it to my bow. Giving a smirking Parker one look out of the corner of my eyes, I pulled back and aimed, closing one eye. Releasing a breath, I let go and the arrow flew through the air and hit the board two centimetres away from the bullseye. I groaned in agony while Parker laughed. I glared at him. "Why is my pain making you happy?" I whined.

He stopped, a smile still hinting at his lips. "Your pain does not make me happy. Just relax, Alex. Let go. You're a great marker. You can do this without a problem."

I looked at him, took aim and fired again. It was worse this time. I groaned again. Parker fished out his own and took aim, standing at ease and breathing steadily. He let go, loosening his long fingers and the arrow sailed through the air and hit the bullseye like it was meant to go there all along. He smiled triumphantly and looked at me. I pouted at him. He motioned for me to come closer to him. I did.

"Stand with your feet apart," he told me, "Showing your profile to the target.Now lift the bow and arrow."

I did. I looked at him. He was smiling at me, his beautiful emerald eyes twinkling at me. I let out a breath. "Parker," I breathed.

He came behind me and held up my arms, angled properly, muscles properly relaxed and flexed; I felt purposeful. I could feel his breath on my neck. It tickled and I shied away from him. "You know I'm ticklish," I complained to him.

He breathed out a laugh and nodded to me, taking one step back and angling his face so that he didn't breathe on to me. "OK, now relax and don't overthink it. Take aim."

I lowered my eyes and his hands closed over mine, tightening my grip on the bow. "Breathe in," he coached me and I followed his instructions, like I usually did when I knew he was being smarter than me, "Release only when you feel comfortable."

I always feel comfortable around you.

"OK," I agreed. He dropped one hand and held me at my waist.

"Be comfortable," he whispered to me, "Forget. It's just you, the target" - he sniggered softly - "And me."

I took in a deep breath.

"Relax." He tightened his grip around my waist, knowing he comforted me. "Release," he breathed at the same time I did exactly that. It didn't take a second for the arrow to hit the board and it hit nothing, but the middle of the target.

I whooped, dropping my bow and arrow and hugging Parker. "I did it!"

"I never doubted that you could. I guess targeting me in laser tag really did some good. You'll never miss the bullseye again. Promise."

I didn't. Every last shot I had taken had hit nothing, but the middle. I had Parker to thank for that.

Until now. I was so nervous about it. Parker would have ammunition.

"Hale," Coach called to me, "You're up."

I snapped back into reality. "Yes, Coach," I said, picking up the bow and arrow closest to me and standing on the mark kept for us. I raised my bow a little and before I lodged the arrow in, I looked over at the person standing beside me. Parker.

Who else?

My luck was just like that. No one could save me. Honestly, it was like I was a walking, talking Friday the thirteenth. He was standing at ease like he usually did and his face was as emotionless as always, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips and that made his eyes light up. The sun was also helping. For a moment, he looked like the guy I grew up with: my Parker. I shook all those feelings and took aim, hoping that I didn't falter. I needed it now the most. I needed to hit the target. My life depended on it.

"Whenever you're ready," Coach said, unlike he had told the others. He probably has more faith in us.

"Whenever you're ready," I could hear Parker telling me, his eyes not wandering from the aim.I took aim. I could hear a nine year old Parker telling me exactly what to do. My breath was speeding like it had never done before. Oh, wait. It had. When Parker kissed me. I stole a glance over at him, wondering if he had thought of it ever again. All I saw was the tattoo on his arm, peaking out from under his gym shirt. I didn't know what it said. We weren't friends when he got it. I know what one said: Tomorrow never comes.

"One," I heard Parker counting.

Two.

Three.

I released the arrow. For a second I watched them both sail through the air. They both hit the bullseye at the same time and both teams cheered. Parker had kept his promise.

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