“Do you think you did well on the Ms. Kennedy’s test? We had a lot of catching up to since we had to move to her class so late in the first semester.”

“Yeah,” he agreed then smiled at me, “It’s a good thing I had a great tutor.”

I shrugged. “I had trouble myself,” I admitted. “It was hard enough learning all of this stuff. But I had to understand it well enough to teach it to you.”

“Well you’re a miracle worker.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Hey wait, I need to go grab a textbook in my locker. I need to some last minute studying for this text for my next class.”

I frowned. “You know it’s bad to do last minute studying, and you must’ve known there would’ve been a test ahead of time, right?”

“I did, I swear,” Parker told me. “I’ve been studying, and I was planning to review everything over the weekend but…” He trailed off.

He didn’t need to explain any further.

“I’ll help you study,” I offered.

He shook his head. “No, I want to do this myself. I think I can do it.”

I smiled at him. “Don’t think, know.”

“Okay then, I know I can do it,” he said before adding, “with a little luck of course.”

We finally reached his locker.

“Luck doesn’t help with everything,” I told him, leaning against the locker next to his. I knew that from experience.

“Maybe I need Lorraine luck,” he replied back as he opened his locker.

“Oh, that again.”

He laughed and pulled out his chemistry textbook out of his locker. But he used his left arm when he grabbed the book, and he underestimated its weight because his arm dropped far to his side as if yanked from below. The textbook dropped onto the ground with a loud thud as his hand went up to his shoulder.

“Dammit, dammit,” he kept saying, gritting his teeth.

Parker didn’t want to wear a sling, no matter how many times I told him he should. I guess he didn’t want to show the guys who did that to him by wearing the sling and give them the pride that they were the ones who put him in it. That’s what I felt like every time I got a new bruise I wanted to hide in my sweaters or under make-up. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing this “trophy” of theirs. But he finally gave in when I lend him a shoulder brace I borrowed from the nurse’s office.

“Why did I use that arm?” He hissed at himself.

“You probably weren’t used to it and thought you could handle it,” I told him, reaching my hand out to him to touch his shoulder. But he suddenly jerked away from me.

“No,” he said, straightening up. “I’m alright.”

“No you’re not,” I argued back. “You’re not alright.”

“My arm-“

“I’m not talking about the arm,” I said. “I’m talking about you.”

He blinked. “Me?”

“For the past few days you haven’t been acting like yourself, you’re being all distant ever since the… incident.”

Parker scoffed. “Incident? That’s what you call it? An incident?”

I looked at him. “What do you want me to call it? Beat up #137?”

That shut him up.

“What’s been going on with you Parker?” I asked him. “Tell me, you know you can tell me anything.”

He bent down to pick up the textbook off the floor with his good hand. 

“There’s nothing to tell,” he said curtly, looking away from me. “Just leave it alone Naomi.”

I glared at him, looking at him so he would see me. “I can’t just leave it alone. This has been happening to me for years. I remember my first beat up like it was just yesterday. It’ll never get out of your head. You’ll always replay it again and again like the TV is broken. You’ve known those guys for years, you were friends with them, and now you were at the other end of their fist. I hate knowing that you’re experience the same thing. Now I can do something no one else will do for me, listen as you talk it out.”

He shook his head, closing his locker door with a slam. “I don’t need-“

“You don’t need to talk it out? That’s what I thought too. So I kept it all in, kept all of those stories, those bruises, those thoughts, all of it bottled up inside. And the moment that bottle even cracks a little bit, everything will come gushing out.”

Parker started walking. “There’s nothing to talk about, there’s nothing to keep inside. There’s no…” He faltered.

I was about to say something when my voice got stuck at the back of my throat when I saw why he trailed off. It was them, the three guys who beat the both of us up.

“Had trouble with that textbook there, O’neil?” One of them with a bruise nose asked Parker.

“None here,” Parker replied coldly. “How’s that nose of yours Dylan?”

“Healing up just nicely.”

I didn’t like this. I’ve been in this situation too many times. Meeting up with someone who already messed with you is bad enough. But one wrong word slips out and it’ll be beat up #137 all over again, no maybe beat up #138 instead.

“C’mon Parker, let’s go, we don’t need this.”

I grabbed his wrist and turned to walk away.

Another snorted. “Yeah, go listen your precious girlfriend.”

He jerked my grasp away and glared at them.

“At least I have one.”

“Why don’t we just give you the knife to stab us in the back?” Dylan offered.

“How about you use it for yourself instead?”

“Parker please stop,” I begged him. “This isn’t going to help. Just walk away.”

“Go ahead and listen to her. Walk away Parker. Walk away or else your girlfriend is going to get hurt and you can’t do anything to stop it.”

Parker pulled his arm back, about to hit him. I jumped to grab his arm to stop him, but he suddenly stopped himself. He blinked then slowly put his arm down. I’m glad he did, but I can only imagine what he was thinking. He was probably remembering what it was like that day, how he couldn’t do anything, and that if he started something it would happen all over again.

Dylan smirked. “I knew it. You don’t have any confidence in protecting your little girlfriend,” he spat out the last two words as he glared at me.

And there you go. That’s how you make a guy want to hit you again.

But he was stopped, not by himself but by Declan who held his wrist back before he could see it. Parker gritted his teeth, fighting against Declan to let go of his arm so he could hit the guy. But Declan would let him. I watched as his knuckles turned white with his tightened fist, but he gave up and his hand went limp.

Bennett strode past Declan and Parker, and then stopped in front of Dylan and his friends. I looked to my left and saw Jordan, he smiled and gave me a wink. Bennett cocked his head to the side and leaned close to Dylan, wearing a blank, cold expression.

“This is the part where you run away.”

Dylan nodded slowly, backing away. He looked back at his friends that had already took off. He yelped and ran away at the same direction.

Jordan shook his head. “That’s Shrek. You used a Shrek line.”

Bennett turned around and shrugged. “I couldn’t let the opportunity pass.”

Declan crossed his arms and smiled in amusement. “It’s funny watching them run.”

“I know right?” Jordan agreed. “It’s like they actually think we’ll chase after them.”

Declan grinned back at him. “But I’m not going to actually waste my time doing that.”

Bennett looked at me. “Are you-” he caught himself and looked at Parker too “-are you two alright?”

Parker yanked his hand from Declan’s grip and looked away. “Yeah, we’re alright,” he huffed.

I said nothing, just looked at him sadly.

Jordan nodded and said awkwardly, “Well, we’ll be going now. If you need any help, just whistle.”

“Or snap.”

“Or clap.”

“Or the classic, ‘Help Jordan, save m- us!’”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, but when I glanced at Parker he was only frowning. When the guys left, Parker and I went towards out next class together. He didn’t say anything the whole way. When we went to the classroom he didn’t even look at me, no note passing, no mouthing funny remarks about the boring class to me, no deliberately walking up to the pencil sharpener just so he can’t tap on my shoulder to get my attention, none of that. He just looked out the window, staring at the empty blue sky, while we should’ve been working on a worksheet. I had a bad feeling at the bottom of my stomach, and it wasn’t the emptiness of my hunger for lunch. Well it kind of was now, but I still wished I knew what he was thinking.

Or at least what he was going to do.

-

“I could’ve taken them,” Parker told me. “I could’ve taken all three of them.”

“In a shoulder sling and you couldn’t take them the first time?” I asked doubtful, very doubtful.

He didn’t say anything at first but then he mumbled, “Well, the guys didn’t have to come rescue the day like that.”

“What you and now that I think about it, the guys, have something called white knight syndrome.”

“White knight syndrome?” Parker repeated.

“An alpha male thing,” I explained. “You know that hero that always wants to save the damsel in distress? Guys have that too.”

He scoffed. “I don’t have that.”

“You’re being too stubborn to admit that you needed the guys help, thinking you could’ve taken the three of them by yourself when you know you can’t.”

“But I can,” he argued back.

I poked him on the shoulder.

“Ow!” He exclaimed, jumping back and nursing his arm.

“That was only a slight nudge,” I told him. “Now would you like to feel what it’s like to be punch there too?”

“No!” He assured me.

“Well there you have it.”

I knew I shouldn’t be so hard on him, but what he was being so moody about was so stupid. So what if the guys helped us out? That’s nothing to be ashamed about. We all need help, I needed help. All throughout lunch, we were just awkwardly eating out food, saying nothing to each other. I mean, I wasn’t complaining I was eating something like mystery meat, but it was more fun to make fun of it with Parker. I could’ve invited the guys to eat with us, but I doubt Parker’s mood would’ve become better. And I couldn’t find the guys anywhere at lunch anyway.

Now it was afterschool and we were walking to the parking lot again. Not through the back of the school though, never again. Actually we were taking a bit of a detour to the west wing of the school. Maybe we just wanted to get away a bit, not see anyone, just us. And Parker didn’t seem like he wanted to see anyone. I’m just glad it was a Friday so I can give him some space over the weekend to get his act together.

He shook his head. “I just wish I could’ve done something better, protected you better.”

“It’s alright Par-“

“No, it isn’t alright,” he snapped at me. “I should’ve protected you.”

“Why should you?” I retorted. “I should’ve protected myself. I don’t want protecting. But I need it until I can take care of myself better.”

“Well then I should do the protecting, not them.”

“Why are you making such a big deal about this?” I demanded, throwing my arms up to the air in exasperation.

He grabbed my shoulders and looked at me. “Because I don’t ever want to see that happen ever again.”

I held onto his arms and had him let go of my shoulders. “Don’t worry. The guys won’t let it happen.”

He was quiet for a long time, and then he sighed. “Typical.” Parker said. “The guys.”

I blinked. “What? What about them? Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just how you trust them more than your own boyfriend.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked. “Yeah, I’ve known them longer. We’ve been through a lot more. But so what? I trust you and them.”

“No, you trust them more than me.”

I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes. “Oh c’mon, this is stupid. Are you actually getting jealous?”

“No,” he denied. “Why would I be jealous? I already have you.”

“Yeah, I know that. But you’re just touchy how they could protect me better.”

“Are you saying that they do?” Parker pressed.

“Are you actually serious?” I retorted sarcastically.

“Just answer the question.”

I scoffed. “Well I don’t know. We’ve had rocky times, but they were always there. Those guys just took you by surprise, they were your friends. Parker just stop this, this isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it is!”

“No it isn’t!” I argued back. “You didn’t know they were coming for me. You weren’t ready to face of three of your friends for someone like me.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” he growled.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I-” He caught himself then shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“What? What were you going to say?” I demanded.

“I said nevermind.”

“You started this conversation, and it’s not ending it until I know what your deal is. Now what were you going to say?”

“Nothing!”

I clenched my fists. “What is this really about? Is this really about that beat up? Or is it really about the guys? Tell me Parker, why-”

Parker put his hands on his face. “I-I can’t take this anymore!”

I stopped. “What?” I said quietly.

“I just can’t take this anymore,” he said as quietly as me.

“You’re not- No, you can’t.” I shook my head, not believing this. “You want to break up? Just like that?”

“I don’t want-“

“But you do,” I said, cutting him off. “You’re saying just that. And why? Just because of your first beat up, don’t like the feeling of getting beaten up by people you know, your own friends? Well try imagining how it felt as many as times as I did and every time I don’t know why they did it, what I did.” I shook my head at him. “And you’re just giving up,” spitting out the last two words.

“No! That’s not it! You’ve got it all wrong!”

“Oh? Then tell me why!”

“I can’t!”

“You can’t? Or you just don’t want to?”

“Neither! Both! I don’t know!” He groaned in frustration, scratching his head. “Stop it!”

“No, I’m not going to stop. I’m not going to stop until you give the reason why you want to break up. No lies, none of that. You did not just made me go through that whole roller coaster with you just to end it like this. I want a reason!”

“It’s because it was a lie! It was all a lie!”

I halted to a stop.

“Liar!” I exclaimed. “I told you no lies! Don’t make your excuse a lie!”

“I’m not lying!” He exclaimed back. “When you weren’t bullied anymore, Raymond-“

“Raymond,” I repeated. “Let me guess, he dared you to go out with me.”

“Yeah. I didn’t at first, saying it was stupid. But then, I don’t know, I did with that tutoring excuse.”

“Do you know this comes out of a stupid cliché movie?”

“Raymond did say he got the idea from some movie.”

“Was any of it real to you? Was it really an act? I mean, you got beat up by your own friends to put up with the act. It had to be real.”

“It was,” he told me. “Naomi it-“

That’s when I remembered. “At seventh grade, you took drama.”

“Oh c’mon,” he said in disbelief. “You’re not actually-“

“This really was a lie. And do you know how sick this is? You were able to put up with me just to mess with me? Just to make fun of me? This was just a huge joke!”

“No, don’t-“

“After the guys became my friends, I thought I could have a little more faith in humanity. It wasn’t easy, how can it? But then you came along and I thought, maybe I need to take chance, maybe for once I should forgive and forget.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I guess I was wrong.”

I turned to walk away, but Parker suddenly grabbed hold of my wrist. I whipped around and yanked it back. But this wasn’t out of annoyance, or anger, but of fear. He froze in place, his eyes looked confused as he looked at me. When he took a step forward, I stepped back. It was then I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes. His blue eyes locked with my brown ones, seeing the fear in my eyes, the all too familiar look he’s seen many times before.

“Now thanks to you, all I can do is wonder, did I really waste my time taking a chance with you or humanity?"

“Naomi, just let me explain better. I don’t want to end it like this, I don’t want to-“

“End it?” I finished, before letting out a laugh. “But Parker, you already did.”

Stop.

Before Anti-Parkomi fans start a party and celebrate the break up or Parkomi fans start a flood, just stop. I want to just explain myself.

Parker, Parkomi more entirely… was never supposed to happen. I was just planning to get some random guy to flirt with Naomi, make the relationship between her and the Musketeers rocky, and then I’ll kick him to the curb. But then I named him. I named him Parker O’Neil. And to authors, what comes a name comes a background and characterization. Creating characters may seem easy to you, just pick the gender, a name, an age, and a pretty face. But it’s more than that. You’re creating a person, what is supposed to be a living person trapped in the pages of paper or screen. That’s why I get a bit defensive when someone says something about my characters, like a over protective mom with her children you could say. And when you’re creating someone, you go a little soft. As I continued writing Parker, portraying him as a charming sweet guy who was supposed to play Naomi, I found myself falling for it like Naomi, sympathizing and starting to believe Parkomi.

But why did I end it?

It was always supposed to end. If it didn’t, the book wouldn’t keep on going. But also because, after reading so many comments, I got tired of it myself. Like when Castle got bored of Derrick Storm and killed him off, I killed Parkomi off. It’s also the comments of Parkomi not being real that got me mad and added that there was bet. You guys wanted it, you guys got it.

But really, to me, and maybe, hopefully to other Parkomi readers out there, it was real. Parkomi was real. When writing, sometimes things don’t go as you plan it, like life. You come up with new scenes, want to add more characters, more twists and even more humor. You know, the book wasn’t even supposed to be this long, it shouldn’t have been done chapters ago. The first plot when coming up with this book was that Naomi would get together with Raymond (I bet many Rayomi fans are screaming right now) but when I had to develop Raymond’s character as mean, sadistic even for hurting Naomi, I realized I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t make any sense, so I scratch that part out and added more plot into the story.

Parkomi is a metaphor if you haven’t realized it. People are scared for standing up or even being seen next to some who’s bullied. But they think, if it’s safe, if the “coast is clear” for their reputation or anything, it’ll be alright to hang out with them. When you hang out with that person, you kind of open your eyes and see how such a great person could be bullied. But when people start bullying that person and you, two things happen. Either you stand up to them or you back out because you have that fear again. Overall, Parkomi is a bystander metaphor.

Well then, into more pressing matters. The cast has changed. I had finally did what I wanted to do for a long time, destroyed it, delete it, terminate it with the help of the Terminator of course. The cast has always been a problem for me. I can never find the right actor for my characters. But it was I realized, I’m not supposed to. It’s not about looks, about a random actor that supposed to look pretty or hot to be my work. You don’t see pictures in books for a reason. You’re supposed to imagine the characters with my description. And you don’t fall for the characters for their looks, you fall for their words and their actions instead. You can’t judge a book by their cover in a book, because you can’t see anything, only just listen and read on. So I changed the cast to “Use your imagination as All of my characters”.

The reason I took me so long to write this wasn’t because the chapter was so hard to write, which it was. But also because I was kinda procrastinating when watching The Mentalist in my computer. Just saying to you all, Patrick Jane is mine, that is all. There's another song and meme for you guys. The song is from this accapella (making music with your mouth, Pitch Perfect anyone?) group called The Maccabeats. This is their version of Brave and it's really good, give it a try.

Also, I want to give a shoutout to Fruitstar whose birthday is today, so Happy Birthday! Say that everyone!

Everyone: Happy B-Day!

With more feeling!

Everyone: HAPPY B-DAY!

There you go. And wow, this is a really long author's note.

RubixCube89201