Authors: Katie Klein
Collateral Damage (33 page)
"Giving this asshole exactly what he deserves."
"No!"
Tony steps in, grabs Blake by the arms, hauls him away.
A crowd gathers.
Something else for them to gossip about tomorrow.
I snatch my bag and helmet off the ground, blood spattering the pavement. Jaden follows me to my bike, reaches for my arm. I shrug her away, wipe my nose across my jacket sleeve, slip my helmet over my head, and fasten the strap.
"Parker, wait," she begs.
I swing my leg over the motorcycle.
"No. I'm done," I say, chest heaving, lungs burning. "Just keep something in mind for me, okay Jaden? Perfect people? They're
always
hiding something." She blinks, not understanding. I steal a glance in Blake's direction. "Ask your boyfriend where he was Saturday night."
I press the ignition, and the engine roars to life.
It's better this way. She knows we're over. She knows the kind of guy Blake really is. It's the best I can do right now. I have to get away from this girl—as fast as I can. My job—my whole life—depends on it.
On my way out of town I get caught at a couple of stop signs, and then in traffic by the middle school.
It's better this way.
It's better this way.
If I repeat the words enough, maybe I'll start believing them.
And then a train passes through, and I'm barely three miles from school when Jaden catches up to me.
I don't know how she knew which way to go—how she found me—if all of this is some kind of sign.
I don't believe in signs.
It's better this way.
I continue down country highway, thinking she'll get the point. That she'll give up. Turn around.
But I know better.
And I can't let her follow me all the way back to my apartment, so I flip on my turn signal and pull into the yard of an abandoned trailer sandwiched between fields. A trailer I pass every day but barely give a second thought. The place is a wreck: garbage bags heaped in piles, overgrown grass, rusted cars and stacks of used tires.
I could live here.
I rip off my helmet, kill the engine as Jaden pulls beside me.
"Parker!"
I climb the weathered steps, eyeing the front door. I can break in if I have to. She doesn't have to know….
"Parker, please wait!"
"We're not doing this, Jaden."
"Is this about Blake? Because if it is I'm so..."
"This has nothing to do with him!" I interrupt. I skip back down the steps, meet her in the yard. The wind blows between us, tousling her hair.
Her green eyes are alight. On fire.
"Then what's the problem?" she shouts. "You wanted to meet
me
, remember? What do you want to say to me, Parker?"
What do I
want
to say to her? Or what do I
have
to say to her?
I
want
to tell her that she can't believe a word I say—not a single fucking word that comes out of my mouth. That everything I've said—that everything I'm about to say—is a lie. That I've never lied more to one human being than I've lied to her.
I
have
to tell her we're done.
There's no other choice.
"I'm telling you that we're over."
She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "What? What's
over
? What have we started that you want finished?"
"We can't do this," I clarify.
"We can't do it? Or
you
can't do it?" she challenges. "Or maybe you don't
want
to do it."
I
want
to do it. I just
can't
.
"Come on, Parker. What's the problem? If you don't like me then tell me. If you don't want us to go any further then fine, but I'm going to tell you something: that's not what I want at all." She folds her arms across her chest, defiant. "And run away all you want, but you can't hide anything from me. So stop pretending like none of this is a big deal."
It
is
a big deal. That's what she doesn't understand. It's a bigger deal than she can even imagine. I let her go, I get my arrest. I let her go, I get my arrest, I leave Bedford High and maybe—just maybe—we stand a chance.
But I am not the Parker Whalen she thinks I am, and we can never be together as long as I'm pretending to be someone I'm not.
"I'm giving you the perfect out," she continues. "Our project is almost over, we'll be graduating, and we'll never see each other again. If that's what you want then say it!"
The thought of never seeing her again, of letting her go, of her moving on without me....
This is what you have to do, Whalen. This is the bed you made—the price you pay. If it's meant to be, she'll forgive you when it's all over.
"That's how it was supposed to be in the first place."
"So what happened? I don't understand. What's the problem here?"
I can't answer, but I don't have to.
"I'll tell you what happened," she says. "What happened is that...I fell in love with you, Parker. That whole thing about timing? You were right. There is no such thing as perfect timing. And this is the worst timing ever, actually, because you're going to go on, you're going to graduate and leave. And that's fine, but I'm telling you, right now, at this moment, I think...I think I
love
you." Her voice breaks, cracking as she says the words.
I love you.
The blood in my veins runs cold, turns to ice. My heart stops pumping in my chest. The entire world stops turning.
No. No. No. No. She can't do this to me. Not yet.
But she did.
She said it.
I can't believe she said it. To
me
. Out loud.
"I love you more than I've ever loved...
anything
. And you have been on my mind for weeks. And being late that day—you being my partner—is the best thing that ever happened to me. And forgive me if I thought that maybe you felt the same way. Was I wrong thinking that?"
No. She wasn't wrong. Because I love her, too. And she's been on
my
mind for weeks. And her being late that day—being my partner—is the best thing that ever happened to
me
.
The words claw their way up my throat, desperate to be heard.
I love you, too.
I love you, too.
I swipe the blood still trickling from my nose, forcing them back.
"You can at least give me that much, Parker. You can run away, you can hide forever, but look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me, first."
I lift my head toward the gray, cloud-filled sky. "I don't love you. I can't."
"You didn't even
look
at me and say it!" she yells. "Look me in the eye, and tell me you don't have any feelings for me. Or are you scared? You're scared because maybe you
do
have feelings for me and
could
possibly want me as much as I want you."
Another cool breeze blows between us, lifting goose bumps to the surface of my skin. She's right. I
am
scared, and I
do
want her. I've never wanted anything—anyone—more than I want this girl.
But Chief Anderson's voice fills my head, and it's not a voice I can ignore.
Get rid of the girl, Whalen.
"You know, I didn't ask for this," she continues, voice lower. "My life was a whole lot easier before you came along. It wasn't perfect, and yeah, it might've been
boring
, but it was manageable. But you did come along, Parker, and I can't ignore that. You can push me away, and try to forget anything ever happened between us, but I can tell you that, for me, something definitely happened. At least I'm being honest. You said you never told a lie, so tell me the truth."
I never told a lie. That was the first lie I told this girl. It would be so easy to give in—to give her the tiniest of hints. It's not that I
don't
love her, it's that I
can't
love her—not right now. But if she can hold on a few more weeks. If she can wait. If she can hang in there for me, she'll understand. She'll know why I have to do this, and everything will make sense. Then I'll tell her I love her—a thousand times a day I'll tell her I love her.
She will
never
be my second place.
"It's better this way. Trust me."
"For who?" she challenges.
Me. Because I'm a selfish prick. Because I care more about getting this job done than the person I love most. Because that's who I have to be right now.
"Look me in the eye, tell me you don't love me, and I'm gone." She glares at me, jaw tightening, resolute.
I take a deep breath, pulling strength from parts of me I didn't know existed, all to say the words that follow: "I don't love you. I don't have any feelings for you. I'm not one of your projects, and I don't need you or your food or your sympathy."
She steps back, eyes glistening, filling with tears. The realization—it's like I've punched her in the stomach. The look she gives me—heartbreak written into every feature—it's like she's punched me right back.
Then, just as quickly, she composes herself, proving that she is, in fact, the Jaden everyone knows. The Jaden everyone can count on—the person everyone expects her to be. The strong one. The Jaden who doesn't "lose it" in front of other people. Who refuses to cry.
"Fine, Parker. Consider it a clean break. You can run away knowing you didn't leave anything behind. Good luck with that."
She returns to her car, pushing through overgrown grass and weeds. I watch her climb inside, listen as the engine roars to life. She shifts to reverse, glances over her shoulder, and backs out of the driveway.
It's all I can do to remain still. To stay where I am. To let her go.
But I do.
And she leaves.
And she doesn't look back.
Jaden: Four.
Parker: Wins.
"All right, Whalen. This is your assignment. How do you want to work this?" Chief Anderson asks.
I slide my chair away from the table, standing. The tiny conference room—once an office—is crammed with eight of my colleagues and me and the Chief. Taylor, West, Rusch—it's like nothing's changed, like I never went undercover, like I haven't spent a day away from this precinct. Fluorescent lights flicker, humming overhead, and in the corner sits a snack cart—a half-empty tray of donut holes and a pot of stale coffee left over from this morning.