Beware of Brooklyn *Beware of the Parker Boys Sequel*

Chapter Two

It had been about an hour since I had came up to my room and I could hear no noise outside in the hallway, meaning that everyone was being smart enough to keep their distance from my wrath of anger.

I sit on my window seat, a fuzzy throw pillow in my lap and I mindlessly tangle my fingers in the fabric as I gaze through the darkness of the neighborhood. There were several street lights casting their beams onto the gray concrete. I watch a black cat saunters from the bushes located in front of the house across the street, and it carelessly struts down the sidewalk before disappearing into the night.

I don't want to live with my father, his lack of presence in the past has made me resent him slightly, and after my mother passed, it has gotten stronger. If his proposal had happened years ago, when I wanted to have a relationship with the man, I would have accepted, but he had been gone for far too long and I have learned to live without him.

What kind of father ships his daughter off to be taken care of by someone else? He had known that I was alone, and had plenty of time to prepare his home and his life, for me to be apart of it. But rather, he sends me off to live with a man I had no recognition of, and thought of that he should be rewarded some kind of reward for taking some time to pawn his daughter off, and to be given the care he could not provide.

I close my eyes and run my fingers through my hair, I could not sit here and continue to feel sorry for myself. I had a family now, and that accounted for something. In a way my father did me a favor, he provided me with a family he could have never given me on my own. In a way, he gave me Rodger.

Rodger.

The thought of his ease dropping onto my phone call with my father sends irritation throughout me. I know in a way he is just trying to make sure nothing sets me off again, that I wont go back to the days where I laid in bed and wouldn't eat. The days where he had to carry me to the bath tub, and wash my hair for me because I was not there enough to do it myself.

I know he was frightened, everyone was frightened. After what had happened with my mother, and after my episode, Steve had wanted to send me to get the help he thought I needed. I remember hearing Rodger protest and argue outside of my bedroom door one night, fighting his father, exclaiming he could make me better. I heard the tears, the pain, and the anger in his words.

That's what made me get better.

I forced myself out of bed the next morning at eight o'clock and made my way down to the dining room. The blank faces watched silently as I walked to the sit that had been vacant for weeks, before I sat down. I ate one piece of toast, but quickly my stomach objected and I was forced to empty what little I had consumed into the toilet.

But slowly, I had gotten better, slowing the scars on my skin had faded to a light pink rather than a dark purple. Slowly I had gotten my head on my shoulders, and happiness into my heart.

And I could never allow myself to fall as long as I did in those days.

There is a quiet knock on the door that breaks me away from my thoughts.

I know he is waiting on the other side, he does not speak, he does not push at me to allow him to come inside, he waits.

I make my way over to the crisp white door before pulling it open, finding him leaning on the door frame. His eyes meet mine and I feel myself goo weak. His dark messy hair lays spread messily across his head, probably from him running his fingers through it constantly for the past hour.

I turn around silently and make my way to the bed before sitting down, he follows me behind me before taking a seat beside me. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't look at me, he stares at the wall ahead of us, waiting for me to say something.

"I'm okay." I tell him softly and I watch his eyes fall onto his hands in his laps, his fingers working themselves into knots as his mind puts things together.

"I shouldn't have been listening. None of us should have."

"No, you shouldn't have, but I know why you were doing it. It doesn't make it okay though, you know it." I pause, turning myself slightly so I can watch him. "You need to start allowing me to do things for myself, and by myself. I can make my own choices, I can handle things on my own now."

He nods slowly, not saying anything more.

I cover his hand in mine and his eyes shift to them, his fingers stop fiddling and I see his face loosen, losing the worry that had covered every feature. He looks up at me and I lean forward, pressing my lips softly on his before pulling away and resting my forehead on his.

"I love you." He whispers as his eyes fall shut.

I lift my hand to his cheek, cupping his soft skin gently.

"I love you too," I tell him, his eyes open and his gaze meets mine. "But you need to stop worrying about me, okay?"

His arm slides around my waist and he pulls me back onto the mattress and we both lay in silence, his body pressed against mine.

"I'm always going to worry, and for you to ask me not to after everything that has happened doesn't make any sense." He replies after about five minutes.

I close my eyes and try to think of something to say back, something reassuring, but I cannot come up with anything. He was right, he had seen to much of me for me to ask that of him.

I snuggle into him as much as I can. I feel his heartbeat thudding a rhythm against my shoulder blades, this and the warmth flowing from his body soothes me in a way nothing else could.

I can hear voices and laughing down stairs, meaning the others were still awake. It wouldn't be much longer that all of us would be returning to school. Rodger and I would be seniors this year, meaning it was time to start planning out our futures.

Rodger already had most of his planned, he has been thinking of his future for years now. I hadn't given much to the thought because I had really never known if I would make it to the future.

But I am strong enough now, I know that I want to move on and experience what life has to offer. I was ready.

"You're not going to change your mind, are you?" his breath flows onto the back of my neck and goosebumps cover my skin.

I turn my head slightly towards him, "Why would you question that? You know I would never leave."

He doesn't say anything.

"You're worrying over nothing. I'm not going anywhere." I reassure him.

I feel his hands find mine and his fingers intertwine with mine.