Chapter 4
Parker
This coffee shop is the bane of my existence. Alright, I’m being dramatic. But I think I’m owed a little bit of drama. Comes with the territory of being an artist, I suppose.
The muse is a fickle bitch.
When I agreed to meet Darcy here, I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.
He’s tutoring. He loves tutoring, the weirdo.
But he was also the first friend I made when I moved to this town in high school.
After the fallout with Lincoln—my ex—my parents decided it was best for us to all have a fresh start.
I didn’t disagree. I needed to get out of that damn town. I sat down next to Darcy in the middle of a brand-new school, nervous out of my mind but putting on an indifferent front, and we just clicked.
He didn’t seem fazed by the full face of makeup I’d donned as a fuck you to the man. He didn’t bat an eye at the skirt I wore or the platform Converse I had on. He just introduced himself and then never stopped yapping.
I love him, even if he is driving me up a wall right now. I’ve never seen him so focused. Sure, he loves helping people. But this is above and beyond what he normally does. Must be some crush he’s got on Weston.
I’ve tried in the past to get him to watch football with me, and it was like pulling teeth. Weston Hale comes storming in with his brown eyes and his swoopy dark hair, and then Darcy wanted to learn all about football.
He claims it’s because he needs to understand it to properly tutor, but I’m not convinced. The way he blushed when he opened a message on his phone and then refused to tell me what it was about said otherwise, but I digress.
And now, he’s just staring at his notebook, lost in his own world. I drum my fingers on the table, waiting for him to get done.
Speak of the damn devil.
West slowly approaches the table, his eyes volleying from me to Darcy. When he gets to the edge, he pauses. And it takes Darcy an embarrassingly long time to look up at him.
When he finally notices the football god standing beside us, his eyes widen in shock before a smile blooms on his face. Oh hell, he’s got it bad.
“Oh, hey,” Darcy says.
I have to stifle a laugh when West does a little wave. He’s so out of his element and clearly so into Darcy he can’t stand it. Even if he doesn’t quite know it yet.
“Hey,” West says. “I’ve never seen you in here before.”
The expression that passes over his face is too good. I know instant regret when I see it, and I can’t help but laugh.
Darcy glares at me, which I guess I deserve, then looks back up at West. I almost feel like I need some popcorn. This is so entertaining. “I’m in here all the time,” Darcy admits. “I see you come in. This is just the first time you’ve noticed me.”
Regret floods West’s eyes. “Well, that was a real shame on my part, then.”
Oof, what a cheesy line. I giggle, unable to help it, even when Darcy lets out an annoyed huff.
He turns to me with a glare. “Must you be a menace everywhere you go?”
No, but where’s the fun in that? “Yep. It’s my brand.”
Darcy rolls his eyes but tells West to pull up a chair and sit down.
“I’m actually going to grab a coffee. Can I get you two anything?” West asks, gesturing toward the line.
“Oh. Polite. I like this one, Darce.”
Darcy glares at me again. Damn. I was even trying to be nice. “I’ll take a cinnamon tea, please?”
Bleh. The most disgusting drink choice ever. I gag. I can feel West’s eyes on me, so I turn to look at him. I don’t think he’s a bigoted asshole, but you never know, really, so I hold my chin a little higher and stare back just as intensely.
“What about you, man?” West asks.
I can feel Darcy tense, but I’m used to it.
Correcting people, that is, so I shrug. How he responds next will pretty much seal his fate for me.
I don’t expect people to know, but I expect them to be respectful.
“Not a man, actually,” I say. I’m not mean, just firm, and even though he looks confused, I also see genuine remorse.
“I’m sorry?”
He looks at Darcy, panic rising in his expressions, so I decide to go easy on him. I hold out my hand. “I’m Parker. You can call me Parker. Or Park would be fine. My pronouns are they/them.”
Recognition lights up his face, and he smiles. “Okay. No problem. I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “You didn’t know. No harm, no foul.”
And I mean it; I really don’t mind telling people. What they do with the information afterward tells me all I need to know about them.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. So, coffee?”
“Sure, handsome. I’ll take it as sweet as they can make it.”
Darcy kicks me under the table, and my face screws up. “Did you just fucking kick me, Darcy?”
He shrugs, completely unbothered. “Maybe. Stop flirting.”
I smirk. “Oh, baby. I am who I am.”
I love fucking with him. He knows it, and I know it. It’s been this way since we were young. If he ever truly wanted me to stop, though, I would.
He huffs out an annoyed sound. “A menace. That’s what you are.”
After West leaves to get our drinks, I turn to Darcy. “He’s something else, huh?”
Darcy drags his eyes away from West’s back. “God, isn’t he, though?”
Sure, if you like perfect men with gorgeous hair and even prettier eyes.
Ben flashes in my mind. For some reason I can’t stop thinking about him and the night we spent just eating cookies and watching true crime documentaries.
I had fun. A lot of fun. And when he left, he gave me his number.
It’s in my phone, just sitting there. I’m not sure what to do with it.
He said he wanted to be friends, and hell, he seemed genuine, but do I really want to open that can of worms with someone I’m so wildly attracted to? Probably not.
“He’s not bad,” I say, raising a shoulder.
Darcy rolls his eyes, shooting me a playful glare. “Handsome,” he says, mimicking my voice, and this time, I’m the one kicking him under the table.
Our conversation gets cut off when West comes back to the table, placing our drinks in front of us. I pick up my cup and take a sip. Super sweet, indeed. It’s good as hell. I need to ask him what he ordered.
He sits down beside Darcy, leaning into his space, and I decide asking can wait. This is much more entertaining. West glances at the notebook in front of Darcy. “So, what’s the next lesson, Professor Darcy?”
Oh, what the fuck? I gasp. “No fair. Why does he get to call you that?”
Darcy ignores me. Doesn’t even spare me a glance. “The Reign of Terror. It’s fun.”
I take another sip of my coffee, closing my eyes as the flavor bursts across my tongue. The coffee is a deep, mossy brown. I don’t know how else to explain it. Deep, mossy brown with hints of royal purple.
I tune out Darcy and West, ignoring them completely as I paint a mental picture of my delicious coffee.
Staring at Ben’s number in my phone has become a constant game of should I or shouldn’t I.
It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with him; I do. It’s just that I’m overthinking it. This would have been so much easier if he had just gotten my number instead. I have no doubt that he would have already texted me.
With a huff, I stand, then connect my phone to the Bluetooth and turn on some music.
I flip through my playlist until I find the vibe I’m looking for. There’s no rhyme or reason to the song selection. Just like with my paintings, it’s by feelings and not by sound or even sight.
When the vibe is good, I can lose myself in art. When it’s not, I struggle to get anything out of my brain and onto the canvas. Right now, I want to work out some energy, so I settle on some rock and close my eyes, letting the feelings course through me.
When I open them again, I step in front of the blank canvas I have set up on the easel in my living room.
The thump of the bass rattles through my skull as I pick up a paintbrush.
Holding it in my hand, I take a deep breath.
Sometimes, I can look at the canvas and imagine.
I can see each stroke of the brush, how the color will look, and how it’ll blend with the next.
This time, I see nothing. Just a blank canvas.
There’s nothing dancing on the white, waiting for me to fill it with color, no urge inside me to cover it. I hate when I get in moods like this. As I said, the muse is a fickle bitch.
Fuck it.
I lay the paintbrush down, then fish my phone out of my pocket.
I open my messages, then type one to send Ben.
Me
This is Parker. Do you want to hang out tonight?