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Chapter 24 *Wrong Turn*

~Sophia

“Parker,” I say hesitantly. “Are you gay?”

To my surprise, he laughs. I even assume that he’ll be mad. He’s laughing really loud, there are even tears flowing from his eyes.

“Parker,” I whisper fiercely. “Are you out of your mind?”

He ignores my question, and asks, “What’s gotten in to you to ask me that?”

“You said he’s cute,” I say defensively.

“Just because I said he’s cute doesn’t mean I like him.”

That’s the same thing Driana told me. They really have a lot of things in common.

“So why did you say that he’s cute?” I probe.

“Because I saw a lot of You’re cute on his paper, and I just wanted to tease you.”

“By?”

“By saying he’s cute,” he says obviously.

“I don’t get it,” I mutter.

“I thought you’re one of the girls who wrote those words.”

“I am not shallow,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I know,” he says bemusedly. “And for the record, I know what you wrote on his paper.”

“You do?” I ask doubtfully. How can he?

“Of course,” he says proudly.

“And that is?” I urge him to continue.

“A secret,” he says, grinning.

“Secret?” I repeat. “You just don’t know it.”

“I know it,” he insists. “I just don’t want to say it because someone might hear it.”

“Like who?” I ask, looking around me in bewilderment. I don’t see anyone familiar. Confuse, I turn to Parker.

“Never mind,” he says, slurping his cookies and cream shake.

I shake my head at him. He really is impossible! He’s just dodging the topic and I’m quite sure that he doesn’t know what I wrote on Draky’s paper. He just doesn’t want to admit it.

“How come you get to that conclusion?” Parker asks me.

“You said that there’s something new about you,” I say slowly. “So I thought you’re gay. I’m sorry I doubted your manhood.”

“Manhood?” He smirks. “A nice choice of word.”

“Shut up,” I mutter.

“How are your parents?” He asks, changing the subject.

And then I tell him everything that happened in the past few days. That my parents are still fighting and they wanted me to move out. And now I’m living in Andre’s house. Parker doesn’t interrupt to ask questions. I’m sure he’s saving them when I finish talking. I tell him that I don’t know what’s wrong with my family, everything, except about the bet.

I don’t know, but when I’m about to start talking about it, I suddenly pause. There’s an unseen force forbidding me to spill the secret. Creepy, I know.

When I finish, Parker says, “Your parents sure have a reason why they want you to move out.”

“I hope so,” I murmur.

“Who’s Andre?” He asks curiously.

“Drake’s best friend,” I say automatically.

He nods thoughtfully, and glances uneasily behind him.

My eyes furrows as I look over his shoulder but I don’t see anything interesting.

“He’s the son of the other car,” I whisper softly.

Parker chokes the cake he’s eating. I give him water and help him drink it. “Really?” He asks after coughing.

“Yes,” I say, slurping my milkshake.

He cocks his head to the side, and is silent for a moment.

“Andre just told me last night,” I admit quietly.

“Your parents didn’t tell you,” he observes.

“My parents don’t know that I know now.”

“Are going to tell them?” He asks quietly.

“I’m not planning to,” I murmur. I don’t know why we’re talking in hush voices, but I like it.

Parker gets something from his satchel. “This is for you,” he says, handing me a paper bag.

“Me?” I ask, pointing to myself.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I mean the person beside you,” he says sarcastically.

“Same old Parker,” I mutter.

The corner of his mouth twitches upward.

“What is this?” I ask, getting the bag from his hand. It’s not heavy.

“Why don’t you open it and see for yourself?” He asks amusedly. And then he glances behind him.

“What?” I ask. What is he looking behind him?

“Nothing,” he says slyly. “Just open it.”

Rolling my eyes, I pull the ribbon off the bag. Opening it, I find a lot of confetti’s inside. “What’s this?” I ask dryly.

“Why don’t you get the thing inside it?” He says, using the tone I used.

Heaving a sigh, I get the thing from the paper bag.

A gasp escapes from my lips as I look at the dress in front of me. I glance at Parker to see him smiling broadly, his eyes glittering in delight.

“Do you like it?” He asks excitedly.

“No,” I murmur, staring at the dress.

His smile falters and he looks a bit hurt.

“Parker,” I whisper. “Where did you get this dress?” It’s sleeveless. The upper part is gray, and the skirt is white. In the middle of the bodice is a zipper, I’m glad it’s just a design, and cannot be open. When I wear it, it will fall a few inches above my knees.

“You don’t like it,” he states, looking away.

“Are you insane?” I ask, laughing now. “Of course I don’t like it. I love it!”

He grins, showing his perfect white teeth. ‘I’m glad you do,” he says, “because that’s my birthday gift for you.”

“Birthday gift?” I repeat.

“Yes,” he says, looking at me oddly. “Your birthday is next week.”

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“Don’t tell me you forget it,” he says wryly.

“Yes,” I admit sheepishly. I can’t wrap my mind around it. I’m going to be seventeen next week!

“You’re the only person who can forget her own birthday,” he says.

“It’s not as if I’ll magically grow up in that day,” I point out.

“Your birthday is important because it is the day you were born.”

“Whatever,” I mutter. “And thanks for the dress. You shouldn’t have wasted your money on it.”

He shakes his head at me disapprovingly. “It’s not a waste,” he tells me. “When I was searching a gift for you, I saw that dress and instantly imagined you in it.”

A smile crosses my face as an idea shines in my head. “Thank you Parker,” I say, reaching for his cheek and pinching it.

“Ow!” He mutters, scowling at me. And then he smiles evilly. Before I can do something, he reaches across the table and pinches me on my cheek. “You’re welcome Sophia,” he says mischievously.

“Stop it,” I say, slapping his hand away. I touch my right cheek, and it throbs. “You’re so childish.” I scold.

“You’re the one who started it,” he retorts.

“I’m just sixteen,” I say, using my age to defend me.

“Seventeen soon,” he says evasively.

“Whatever.” I notice that I’m fond of using Whatever today. How many times have I already—

“It’s just a shame,” Parker says, interrupting my thoughts, “That I won’t see you in that dress.”

I have an idea on what he’s doing, and where this conversation is going.

“You know, I really see you in that dress. But it’s just my imagination,” he says furiously. “Imagination and reality aren’t the same.”

“What do you want me to do?” I ask wryly.

“Can you wear that dress tomorrow?” When he looks at my expression, his face falls. “Never mind, I know you don’t like the dress. You’re just saying that you love it because you don’t want to hurt my feelings.”

I groan. He’s trying to guilt me, and he knows that I know. He’s purposely not looking at me. This is unfair!

“Fine,” I say grudgingly. “You win!”

“Really?” Parker says dubiously, fighting the smile forming in his lips. “You’re going to wear it tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I say curtly.

“If you want to, you know—“

“I said fine!”

He smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “You’ll be amazing in that dress.”

I sigh and then force myself to smile, only to end up grimacing instead.

“You’re the sweetest and the kindest person I’ve ever met!”

“You’re just saying that because you get what you want,” I grumble.

“No, it’s true,” he says firmly. “You have a big heart.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes at him.

“It’s true,” he insists. “Just don’t let other people take advantage of you.”

“Like you?” I tease.

“Yes,” he says, and then pauses. “Except for me,” he jokes.  “You know I won’t do anything to hurt you,” he says seriously, taking my hand that’s on the table.

“I know,” I say, squeezing his hand.

I have a problem. I am not comfortable wearing a dress! I own three dresses but I haven’t really worn any of them. I don’t know. I just don’t feel like it. And then a horrible thought comes in my head.

“I don’t have shoes for that dress!”

“What do you mean?” Parker asks, confused.

“I don’t have shoes that will go well with the dress,” I complain. “What am I going to wear, sneakers?”

A grin lights his face. “It’s not a bad idea.”

“Parker!”

“We can buy your shoes now,” he offers.

“Bad idea,” I say flatly.

“Of course it is,” he mutters, “Because I have the perfect shoes for you.”

“What?” I exclaim.

“You really thought I’ll not give you shoes that will go well with your dress?” He says mockingly. “Of course not! I’ll never do that. Besides, it’s not from me.”

He gets something from another paper bag on the floor and hands a box to me. “If you’re wondering what’s inside this box,” he says with a big smile on his face, “It’s a pair of shoes.”

“Whose is it from?” I ask, taking the box from him.

“Chloe,” he answers.

“Chloe?” I repeat. I don’t have friends back home who have a name of Chloe. I open the box to find green stilettos with three inches heel. It’s suede sling-back pump with glossy patent detailing.

“She’s my girlfriend,” he says, smirking.

“You have a girlfriend?” I ask. My voice catches at the end of the sentence.

“Why are you so surprised?” He wonders. “It’s not a sin to be in a relationship.”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s just that when we left, you didn’t have a girlfriend. You never had a girlfriend, for that matter.”

He rolls his eyes and says, “I was not ready before, and I am now.”

“Is she you first girlfriend?” I ask curiously.

“Yes,” he answers, giving me a nod.

Wait. Chloe is a familiar name! Where did I hear it? Like a light shines in my head, I say, “Chloe, as in my sub in Arts?”

“Yes,” he says and his lips quirks into a smile.

My eyes widen at his answer. “Where did you meet?”

“For being smart, you’re . . .” he trails off.

“What?” I ask, glaring at him.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “I told Chloe about you, and when she saw that dress, she told me that I had to give you shoes too. In the end, she bought it for you.”

I make a mental note to myself to thank Chloe tomorrow.

“We were classmates when we were first year,” Parker says, answering my question, “When we were choosing what major to take.”

“Oh,” I mumble. “Why did you choose her?”

“We chose each other,” he corrects me.

“When did you become so melodramatic?”

“When I met her,” he admits. “And it’s not really melodramatic.”

“If it’s not, what do you call it?”

“Forget it.”

I sigh. I only have short time with him and I’m already ruining it. Taking a deep breath, I ask, “What do you like about her?”

He thinks for a moment and finally says, “She’s kind, sweet, and thoughtful.”

Imagining Chloe in my head, I nod. She looks nice, and pretty too.

“If you’re wondering what I love about her,” he says, interrupting my thoughts, “I don’t have an answer for that.”

“Why?”

“Because if you love someone, there’s no reason behind that,” he says. “Don’t try so hard looking for a perfect partner. It’s just this simple: Be with someone who knows how lucky he is to have you.”

“Who are you?” I ask teasingly. I don’t like where the conversation is heading so I have to change the topic. “Where did you put the real Parker?”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward, and he reaches across the table to pinch my nose. I slap his hand away with a scowl on my face. I don’t like it when people touch my nose. Parker knows it so he’s doing it to annoy me.

“Same old Sophia,” he says, “Always dodging topics about love.”

I stick my tongue at him. I’m suddenly regretting telling him about my ex boyfriend.  Because long distance call is expensive, Parker and I write letters to each other. It’s like writing on a diary but sending it to him.

“Remember your tenth birthday?” He asks suddenly.

“Of course,” I say. “How come you remember that?”

“I have a good memory.” He smirks.

The theme of my tenth birthday was magical. My parents hired clowns and magicians but they didn’t come because of an unfathomable reason. My family and friends didn’t want to let me down because it was my day. They dressed as clowns and magicians.

A smile forms in my lips as I remember the memory.

I was the only audience because all of them were performers; even Matty who was just seven year old back then. They did tricks that were not good, but it was really funny because I was with them.

If I remember correctly, Parker was the one who organized my party. He and my other friends were the ones who went to different shops to buy necessary things that were needed.

It’s not the effort that makes me smile. It’s the willingness of people to do crazy things to make me feel special.

“By the way,” I say, “Why did you choose our partners to be like that?”

“I just like it,” he says. “I’m tired of people choosing their partners because they’re their friends.” He’s not looking at me as he says it that’s why I know he’s lying. I don’t know what Parker’s plan is, but I’m sure I’ll know it when the right time comes.

“Let’s go,” he says, as soon as we finish eating our cakes, and slurping our shakes. “You still have to make your project.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” I mutter.

“You’re welcome my friend,” he says, his eyes glittering in amusement.

I carry Parker’s gift as we walk outside the coffee shop.

Parker wants to take me home but I decline his offer. His hotel is just around the corner and I don’t want him to be away just to make sure I’ll be safely home.

“I’m just going to ride a bus,” I say for the tenth time.

“But it’s already late,” he says, glancing at his wrist watch.

“It’s just seven,” I remind him.

“You’re so stubborn,” he says disapprovingly.

That just makes me smile. “Goodbye Parker,” I say, “Thanks for the time.”

“Goodbye,” he says reluctantly, leaning down to kiss me on my forehead. “See you tomorrow, and take care!”

“You too,” I say, and walk away to the bus station.

On my right is an alley, if I’m right, at the end of it is the bus station. I mean, the bus station is near in that side. I feel lucky for seeing a shortcut right now.

I have to talk to Draky later for the project Parker requires us to submit tomorrow.

I make my way towards the alley, and then just a few feet of walking, I feel trap. It’s so dark here, and I can’t even see the light on the other end. I don’t even know that this alley is long.

Why did I even think of entering this dark place? I chastise myself again and again but the only way to make this right is to turn back the way I come in.

I’m about to turn around when I hear footsteps shuffling behind me. My feet freeze automatically, as my heart thumps painfully in my chest. It’s like its trying to burst out of me.

Run, I order myself but I’m not moving. I’m not even breathing. My heart is so loud, I can’t hear clearly. I slap myself mentally to think clearly.

Sooner or later the person behind me will realize that I know he’s there. Flight or fight? There’s no question about that. In that kind of situation, I’ll flight. But how can I? I can’t even move my feet! And even if I run, there’s no doubt that he can outrun me.

Sophia, you can do this! It’s not good to have your back on the enemy, or whatever the person behind me is. Swallowing the lump in my throat and trying to stand firmly because my knees are shaking beneath me, I whip around to face the person behind me.

I can’t see anything because it’s dark. It’s darker than before. And then I can make out a shadow a few feet away from me. With a few squinting, I notice that the stranger is alone.

A startle scream escape from my mouth as the guy advances towards me.

*****

Yay! 1,000,000 views! Thank you so much <3 :)

I still remember the day when The Bet just had 897 views. Of all my stories, it had the lowest numbers of readers. I didn’t even expect to have reads of a hundred thousand on any of my stories. When I saw it, I smiled and cried at the same time XD

The song is Sentimental Heart by She and Him. I really love this song, and it’s perfect for the chapter because, Sophia cried last night ;)

Open the external link to see Parker and Chloe's gifts for Sophia (The dress and the shoes). It's by MellisaBoyce. She’s a fashion consultant here in Wattpad.

SEIZE THE MOMENT! (:

Thank you so much ^.^