Page 37 of Hits Different

He casts a glance over his shoulder to make sure Gretchen’s not within earshot and beckons me closer. “How about this”, he lowers his voice. “You stop being a little bitch”, I snort with laughter, “And finish training, and in return, I’ll shout you dinner at the trashiest, dirtiest, most unhealthy dive that this town has to offer”.

“How dirty?” I challenge.

“Health code violation dirty”.

“So, dinner at your place?” I deadpan.

“Just for that”, he swipes me with a good-natured cuff, “You can spring for your own dessert”. He hauls me to my feet before I can protest further. Grr. Fine.

I take a deep breath, stretch out, and return to the track. I feel the weight of his eyes on me for the next three laps. And they don’t let up.

Not once.

* * * *

I spend the rest of the afternoon under a long, cool shower. When it’s time to meet Parker, I change into chinos and a fitted black t-shirt. Last minute, I splash some aftershave too. Never hurts to make an effort.

Di Rossi meets me at the gate. He’s changed out of his uniform into jeans and a checked shirt, open at the collar. My heart skips a beat as he high-fives me in greeting.

Get it together, Brandon.I mean, this is ridiculous. I’m in the guy’s presence for five minutes and I practically revert to the same love-crushed teenager who used to blow off soccer practice just to cheer him on at his boxing matches.

You spent three years wanting your friend back. Now you got it.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”We passed personal that night on the beach.“Have you ever—I mean, after what you were saying the other night—tell me to mind my own business”.

“Get on with it, Di Rossi”.

“You made that comment about love not happening the same way for everyone”.

“I was kidding”, I say quickly.

“I figured. I mean, I was just wondering. Does that mean you’ve never been in love?”

Whoa. He almost knocks me off my feet with that one. My astonishment must be obvious, because he quickly follows up. “Sorry, it’s just…you told me you didn’t really do boyfriends”.

There’s only one honest answer to this, and to share it would torpedo this revitalised friendship before it even starts. Parker had unknowingly pushed my teenage self into confronting some pretty significant home truths. More than once. “Haveyou?”

“I’m gonna call this out for the blatant Dodger-ing that it is, however”, Parker throws a sideways glance at me, “It’s only fair I answer too. Of course I have. Millie. Then my sophomore year girlfriend. We lasted about six months”.

“How did you know it was love?”

“With Millie?” He frowns, thinking back. “I remember feeling like I’d die if even a second between us was wasted. I used to bike all the way across town just to walk her five minutes home from her piano recitals and it’d be totally worth it to me. I wanted to see her, be with her, all the time”.

And you’d go miles out of your way just to spend time alone with him. You’d skip practice just to go to the mall and help him pick out a present for his girlfriend, because doing something with him that hurt was less painful than doing nothing with him at all.“And without her it felt like you couldn’t breathe properly?”

“Totally. And I’m sorry if this is a really personal topic. I just don’t want you to miss out”. Parker pauses, “My whole life only two people have ever really seen me”.

“Millie, and, what was your college girlfriend’s name?”

“Jenna. But I was talking about you”. Parker ruffles his short hair. “You always saw the best in me. You’re still doing it now. That’s why I spent the day fixing a rusty old sign on an entrance that nobody ever uses. Shit-list job number one all ticked off”.

There’s a thickness in my throat that I can’t dislodge. “Not that I’d flatter myself into thinkingyouever had feelings for me”, he nudges me playfully. “As loveable as I am”.

The moment where I’m supposed to laugh comes and goes. We have to split sides of the street to let an elderly couple go by, and when we rejoin, I almost wilt under the sharpness of his gaze. “Carter?”

My mouth runs dry. This is it. The moment he runs away from me again. Check your watches, folks. “It was a long time ago”, I manage. “I’m over it. Obviously”.

“Wow”, he says softly. “Me?”

---