Playing With the Rich Boys | ✓

Chapter Forty-Six - promises

♪ I Like Me Better - Lauv 

The brown-haired boy stood on the edge of the field. With a swift kick, he sent the ball flying onto the middle of the field. His jersey was a little too long, and one of his fluoro yellow coloured socks was pulled up mid shin while the other bunched up around his ankle.

His teammates cheered as they all ran after the ball. All of a sudden, he felt a rough shove from behind which sent him barreling forwards, landing on his knees, skidding across the grass. Behind him, another boy smirked proudly before running after the ball.

The little boy got up. The skin from his knees had scraped, with blood starting to seep. The tears welled up in his eyes and he sprinted for the sidelines where the woman was watching on the stands.

He ran into her arms and she held him gently while he cried. "My knees hurt," he said. She went onto one knee and looked him in the eye.

"Parker, as Lennoxes, we do not show weakness," she said sternly, wiping the tear from the corner of his eye. He sniffled and brushed the dirt from his knees. She rolled up his socks so that they were symmetrical across his shins.

That was the last time Parker Lennox cried.

And it was safe to say that other boy never played on that soccer team again.

--

I was discharged in the morning and my mum drove me home. Once the painkillers wore off, it was obvious that they had been helping. My back was still stiff and sore, so I was left sitting upright, barely daring to fidget. I finally felt relief when it was time for my next dose at lunch time.

My heart still seemed to dance every time I thought about the night before. I was even smiling to myself like an idiot. Maybe it had been the meds, because everything I did seemed so out of character for me. Or maybe it was because it was Parker.

My phone buzzed. I still couldn't get over the fact that Parker preferred phone calls because he was too lazy to text. "And what's wrong with a text message?" I answered immediately.

"I'm injured," he said.

"Fine. What?"

"Can you come with me to a lunch tomorrow?"

"Um sure. Who's it with?" I asked, figuring from how he'd said it that this wasn't a date.

"You'll see." It was weird, but it was like I could hear him smile as he said it, even though I couldn't see his face. He was just like that.

"Mysterious. Okay."

"You'll have to drive though, because my arm is sort of out of action."

"I don't have a car."

"Come to mine and drive mine," he said.

The following day, against my insistence that I was going to be fine, my mum was not letting me out of the house unless she was dropping me off at Parker's herself. I was having palpitations as I approached the front door. What was I going to do if his parents answered the door? I wasn't ready for it. Before I had the chance to psych myself out, I rang the doorbell.

To my surprise, Parker was the one to answer the door. "The butler has the morning off," he explained. Seeming to sense my unease, he followed up with, "and my parents are out."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved his parents weren't home. There were few people who scared me that much. Not to mention his mum hadn't had the greatest impression of me since seeing me the first time with Holden.