OBX: An Outer Banks Story | Season 1

Episode 7

 "Fuck!" I wake up to see Rafe sitting up.

"What's going on?" I rub my eyes and sit up.

"We fell asleep. It's almost 10!" I look around and notice the beautiful sun lighting up the town.

"So?"

"So? My dad's gonna be pissed!"

"Just tell him you woke up early to go see the sunrise."

"He won't believe that."

"You never know."

"Fine. I'll try it. But can we just get going?"

"One second. Look at the ocean."

He stops to look. It's just as beautiful as it was at night, just different. We can see dolphins in the distance. There are a ton of boats of all sizes roaming. The beaches are starting to get crowded. It's all busy, but in a beautiful way. The way people move around in similar patterns. It all just makes you realize how small the world is and just how similar we all are.

"Can we go now?"

"Sure."

"Text me."

"I will." I step out of Rafe's car.

"Feel free to use that spot whenever you need it."

"Thanks. I'll definitely be needing it after this."

"Just be honest. Tell her exactly how you feel."

"Thanks." He just smiles before driving off.

I walk up to the back door and into the kitchen.

"Parker! My god!" Grams sits up from the table and nearly runs over to me. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Just with friends."

"Really? Last night Taylor stopped by wondering if you were okay. Then this morning I get visits a Sarah and John B. they were all wondering if you were home and doing well. What the hell happened? Why are people asking me if you're okay?"

"Can we just sit?" She says nothing but follows me to the table. "I've been holding in a lot of stuff. For a long time."

"What kind of stuff?"

"About... my dad... he..." I can feel my body getting tense.

"Parker..."

"No. I need to finish." She just smiles. "He used to hurt me. Beat me. Yell at me. And... when I attacked him... he was beating me and threw my mom's urn."

"Sweetie." She reaches over and grabs my hands. "I know."

"What?"

"Well, I knew about him beating you. I realized it when you were young. I was visiting for Christmas and you had a lot of bruises. I talked to him about it."
"You did?"

"Yeah. we got in a huge fight about it. That's why I stopped coming. I couldn't stand to see it." She starts crying. "I'm so sorry."

"Grams." I grip her hands. "It's not your fault."

"But I could've stopped it. Tried harder. Gotten you and your mother out of there. I think about it every night."
"You couldn't have done anything. None of us could."

"But..." She reaches for the tears and starts wiping them.

"It's over now. That's all that matters. I've trying so hard to just let it all out and move on finally. And you need to do it as well."