Page 18 of Hits Different

I spot Darwin giving his drink order to Tiffany.

“Parker?”

Even from here, I can see his eyes linger over her body. He whispers something to Barlow, and they both smirk. My hands curl to fists.

“This was a bad idea. What the hell am I doing?” I’m suddenly aware that Brandon has taken a step towards the door. “I should go. It was good to see you”.

“No, wait”, I spin between the window and the door, just in time to hear him.

I missed you, Di Rossi.

But by the time I turn around to say it back, he’s gone.

Chapter 7

Lost Boys

Brandon

I don’t know if it’s the concussion or the hangover, but when I wake up, my head feels like it’s going to explode. No, scratch that. It feels like italreadyexploded, and I’ve crazy glued it back together.

Damn F-Boys. Damn goalposts. Damn life choices.

I do a quick scan of my surroundings. Hotel room. Phone on charge. Clothes piled up neatly on a chair. There’s no way I made it back here without help. A note in Freddie’s handwriting sits on my bedside table, next to a bottle of water and a box of paracetamol.

Drink this.

Take two of these.

Check your camera roll.

Don’t google yourself.

I mean it. Don’t.

I follow the first two instructions immediately, then slump back on my bed to follow the third. My phone is filled with the usual array of messages consistent with a victory, an injury, and a big night out. In that order.

Nothing from my dad yet, but he’s probably super busy with the campaign. His Chief of Staff still copies me on the weekly itineraries. I check my email, and sure enough today he’s due to speak at the opening of the new orthopaedic wing in a district near home. It’s highlighted green, which means there’ll be local TV there.

I eagerly reach over and grab the remote. It doesn’t take long to find him, right where I left him, on the Channel 29 news.

He’s standing in-front of the hospital, wearing his man-of-the-people uniform. Blue button down and maroon gilet. I can tell by his hand gestures that he’s wrapping up his standard stump speech about the importance of sensible healthcare.

A handful of reporters raise their hands. “Senator, what do you say to families who are forced to choose between paying for healthcare and putting food on the table?”

“I say they should join me in getting this country back to work so all families can realise the benefits of a steady and fair income”, he looks around, making sure he’s holding attention. “That’s why I’m so honoured to be opening this new facility today”.

My mother cuts in from behind her sunglasses, with a wink to the camera, “Especially since our son will probably be the first patient”.

A ripple of good-natured laughter, and my mother preens in acknowledgement. We may share blonde hair and blue eyes, but that’s where the similarities start and end. She’s very at home in-front of the camera, more so than I’ve ever been.

My dad laughs, a little loudly. “Whilst on the subject, my wife and I would like to thank everyone for their well wishes after Brandon’s accident. Like any parent, my heart was in my mouth, but Carters are made of tough stuff, and he was cracking jokes with us over FaceTime on the ride to the hospital”.

“Will this anecdote be in your book, Senator?” a young reporter pushes her way forward, “We all love some Brandon-content”.

The ground trips beneath my feet, even though I’m sitting down.

“You’ll have to wait and see when it comes out in a couple of weeks”, Dad says. My mother unslips her hand from his, a simple gesture that I’ve seen a hundred times in private. “As for Brandon, well, his mother and I are proud and verygratefulto have the appropriate healthcare coverage. Which brings me back to…” he returns to his talking points.

---