Overcome (2 page)

Chapter 2

Parker

The sandwich sizzled as Parker threw the buttered bread on the griddle. He wasn’t sure what to think of the spunky blond, but she lingered in the back of his mind as he filled the orders. He shouldn’t have been surprised that his brother, Spencer, was gone, though he was supposed to be manning the cart.

Spencer kept finding reasons to meander to the cheerleader booth across the street, leaving Parker to do all the work. First it was to see if they had any ice. Really? Like they were going to buy that one. Spencer was on a food truck, who wouldn’t have ice? Then he went over to see if any of them had a pair of scissors. Then he just wanted a glass of lemonade. So what if Spencer gained a couple phone numbers in the process. He was still useless in helping.

Parker flipped the sandwich just as Spencer clunked into the truck.

“Where were you this time?” Parker snapped.

Spencer shook his head and laughed as he slicked the sides of his hair with the tips of his fingers and bent slightly to look at his reflection in the steel cabinets.  “Why? You miss me?”

“You were supposed to be ...” Parker huffed and pointed at the open window. The curly blond was back. “Hey.” Parker tipped up one side of his mouth.

Her grey eyes flipped from one brother to the next. “Hi, sorry to interrupt your lover’s spat, but I have a really hungry guy with me.”

“He’s my little brother.” Spencer nudged Parker over so he could hang out the window. “I’m Spencer.” The player- drawl that came out of Spencer’s mouth made Parker roll his eyes.

Parker bumped Spencer right back and stuck his head out the window as well.

“Carly,” Carly’s lips turned up in a smile and she batted her eyes at Spencer. Parker jerked his elbow, making him stumble again.

A spindly, scraggly boy glared up at them with his arms across his chest and his lips pursed. “You got a problem?” the little kid clipped. Whoa, his attitude was bigger than he was.

“What do ya want?” Parker asked.

“I want …,” the boy stopped and stared at the menu.

“So Carly,” Spencer said again, straightening himself back up. “You going to be around later?”

The little boy narrowed his eyes at Spencer then tugged on Carly’s arm. Parker was thankful her attention was off his brother. Carly knelt down by the little boy. Parker couldn’t tell what they were saying in the hushed mumble. The crowd grew around them.

“Oh,” Carly nodded and looked up at the menu, tucking her hair behind her ear as she read the items out loud.

Parker shoveled the sandwich he grilled on a paper plate. When he turned back around, Spencer was stretched out the window like some elastic mutant staring at Carly. Parker kicked his boot up to Spencer’s shin.

“Ouch,” Spencer grumbled, hitting his head on the top of the window before pulling himself back inside. “What was that for?” Spencer growled and rubbed his injury.

“We have more customers.” Parker pointed at the group of preteen girls—gangly and giggly—behind Carly. He handed the sandwich out the window to the waiting lady. “Thank you.” 

Spencer squinted as he looked out. “I’ll get Carly and you can get them.” He nodded.

“I don’t think so,” Parker said, wanting to make some lame comment like he saw her first, but knew how stupid that would sound.

The girls whispered and giggled some more and the little boy glared back at them as if they were interrupting his concentration.

“You know what you want yet, sport?” Parker leaned back out before Spencer had the chance.

“Grilled ham and cheese and fried mozzarella sticks and a large soda,” the boy replied.

“Wow, that’s a lot of food. You sure you can eat all that?” Parker asked.

“You callin’ me little?” The boy’s arms were across his chest again and Parker had to resist the urge to laugh.  At least Spencer was waiting on the giggly girls now.

Parker lifted one eyebrow up at him. “Nah.”

“Bryson.” Carly giggled and rubbed the top of his head and he ducked away from her flailing his arms in the air.

“All right, I got it, Bryson, I’ll be back.” Parker slipped inside and turned to the griddle. He threw the sandwich together, adding extra cheese and ham because the kid looked like he needed it.

Spencer handed him a slip. He didn’t like to cook. If Parker was in the truck, he took the orders and Parker did all the food preparation. Parker loved to do it, it helped him relax and keep his mind off things. If he was concentrating on not burning a sandwich, or dicing a tomato in just big enough chunks, then he wasn’t thinking about anything else. The timer on the fryer made him jolt. It might turn out to be a long weekend after all.

“Wake up, we got orders to fill.” Spencer winked with a head nod and Parker wanted to punch him in the middle of his smirk, but they’d promised mom and dad that they’d get along. 

“You got that boy’s order ready yet?”

“I’ll give it to him,” Parker clipped.

Spencer held his hands up in surrender. “Geez, man, chill out. If you wanna call dibs on the chick, call dibs on her. Whatever.” Spencer shook head, his freshly cut blond hair staying in place with all the gel he had in it. In Parker’s opinion Spencer spent way too much time on his hair. He spent more time on it than their fourteen-year-old sister, Kamberlee, did on hers.

“Shut up.” Parker turned to flip over the sandwich. Spencer took another order.

Once Parker had the kid’s meal prepared, he wasn’t just going to hand it out the window. He untied the apron from around his waist. “Cover for me.” He shoved the cloth toward Spencer.

“What? I’m not wearing that thing.”

“Whatever, I’ll be back,” Parker grabbed the food and stepped out of the truck. The crowd was small enough, Spencer could handle it. Besides he’d been making Parker do all the grunt work.

The first thing Parker noticed was Carly kneeling down eye level with the boy. The phone in her hand sparkled and she and the boy stared laughing at the screen.

“Order up,” Parker said as he approached them.

The bright smile on Carly’s face when she looked up at him was a pleasant surprise.

“Awesome,” Bryson said, hopping onto the rickety picnic table with scribbles of who had been there and who was in love with who forever.

Parker handed Bryson his soda then his plate of food. Bryson didn’t hesitate in devouring it.

Carly shoved her hand into her pocket. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house,” Parker said.

Carly glared. “What, are you hitting on me now? You told me I needed to buy something from you …”

“Chill out, Snarly, I’m giving it to your little brother, not you.”

“He’s not my little brother,” she said, looking back.

“This is rwlly gwoof,” Bryson spoke with a mouth full, his eyes big and brown. Parker thought he saw a flash of something familiar when the boy looked him in the eyes.

“Come back anytime this weekend, I’ll fix you whatever you want.”

Bryson didn’t seem as excited about this as Parker had expected him to. He looked down at his paper plate and frowned. His hair shaggy hair slipped over his eyes.

“Peter,” Carly said, her hand grasped his elbow and she pulled him back toward the truck.

“Parker.”

Carly shook her head, “Whatever,” she looked back at Bryson. “You see Bryson doesn’t … he doesn’t …” Carly dipped her hand back into her shorts. “I’ll just go ahead and pay …”

Parker held his hand up. “No … anything he wants this weekend is on the house.”

“Parker!” Spencer shouted from the truck. The line that consisted of only a few girls before, had begun to fill the street.

“I gotta get back. Just let him know it’s taken care of.”

There was a flash of a smile and she said, “Thanks,” before he rushed back onto the truck, taking his place as chef.

Chapter 3

Carly

Carly made her way through the crowded hall.  She weaved in between the nerds, the rowdy jocks, and the giggly freshman girls vying for their attention.  Her arms felt empty without any books. The last day of school always gave her a sense of relief, but not this year. Knowing she’d be back in two weeks instead of eight, filled her with dread.

Empty lockers clanged as everyone slammed their’s shut for the final time this year.  Carly had tried everything she could to get out of coming to school. It was pointless. The history, science, and algebra finals weren’t going to help her pass even if she miraculously got A’s on them.

Her mother had to remind her that staying home wasn’t possible, because of the fact that she’s missed so much school the truancy officer called her parents a few months back.

After the shooting, nobody said anything when she went home early, showed up late, or just didn’t come at all. But as she began to make it a
habit
—guidance counselors words not hers—that’s when she was called into
the office
.

“I’m worried about you, Carly,” Miss Manroe had said, her eyes squinty behind her square glasses. “I don’t think you’re grieving.”

“I’m fine.” Carly stared at the florescent lights flickering above her.

“Your grades, they’ve dropped, and your attendance …” Miss Manroe shuffled a stack of papers on her desk.

“School’s never been my thing,” Carly replied as she reclined in the scratchy chair.

Miss Manroe pushed her glasses back up her nose as she looked up at Carly. “You do realize you’ll be taking summer school classes if you don’t change.”

Carly shrugged.

She didn’t listen to Miss Manroe back on Valentine’s Day—what better day to pull someone into your office and remind them of their dead boyfriend?

With three and a half months left of school, Carly figured she still had time to at least pull off a final passing grade. It went by faster than she’d planned. Once it came down to only a month left of school, what was the point anymore?

Now standing at her locker on the very last day, getting ready to go into
the assembly
, she wished she would have listened. To not only Miss Manroe, but to her teachers, her parents, even her best friend, Bree—swollen belly and all.

Her mom constantly made comments how if she spent as much time studying as she did chasing boys, she would be getting better grades.

“Mom,” she would sigh, “I don’t chase boys, they chase me.”

“I better not hear about boys chasing you,” her dad would grumble, under his beer breath, from his perch, the Lay-Z-boy recliner.

Then she would roll her eyes, shut the door to her room, and answer a text from one of said ‘chasers’.

In fact the only boy she’d chased since Colten—and even then she made him do his fair amount of chasing—was Jake.

Her locker was filled with clutter. Papers that were never turned in, notes that were never signed by her parents, books that’d barely been opened, and jackets she’d worn just because a few teachers made her ‘cover up’ when she was in their classes like it was a convent or something. 

“Hey,” Jake’s voice brought her attention up above the metal door. “Look, I couldn’t get away from Khloe last night.” His voice was a raspy whisper and he tipped his face down toward her. He smelled like sweat mixed with cologne and the hairs just above his ears were damp curls.

“That’s fine.” Carly forced a flirty smile up at him, batting her eyes. The pony tail swung as she tilted her head.

His almond eyes were hooded and he stared at her chest. “What are you doing tonight? Khloe’s gonna be at the booth.”

“Working,” Carly frowned and shrugged her shoulders as she shut her locker. Why should she worry about cleaning the thing out when she was going to be right back anyway?

“Carly!” Khloe’s voice boomed as the red-headed blur scrambled toward her. Carly tried not to cringe as Khloe wrapped her arms around her like they were best friends. Khloe didn’t take her hand off Carly when she pulled away either. This made Carly lean away just far enough for her grip to loosen and fall.

Khloe smiled up at Jake, slinking an arm around his waist. “I heard about Bree and the baby. How is she?”  Khloe’s eyes were wide and her smile even bigger and brighter.

“Good, I guess.” Carly glanced down at her phone. She hadn’t heard from Bree since the baby was born. All Carly got was a mass picture-text. The baby’s eyes were closed and her face was a shade pinker than the blanket she was wrapped in. She had more wrinkles than the shirt Carly had pulled out from under her bed.

“As good as any sixteen-year-old with a baby?” Khloe bounced and her long braid bobbed like she was out on the side lines cheering. She placed her hand in the center of Jake’s chest as she leaned into him. “Are you coming to the assembly?” Her peppy, toothy smile, turned into an instant frown.

“I don’t have a choice.” Carly lifted her eyebrows.

“You can sit with me and Jake if you want.” Khloe’s thick black eyelashes, caked with clumpy mascara, fluttered over her eyes.

“Uh, thanks … I don’t …”

“C’mon, you can’t sit by yourself.” Khloe nudged Carly’s shoulder then peered up at Jake. “Right, Jake?”

Jake pulled his gaze off Carly’s chest and blinked like he just woke up from a dream. His hand was clamped over Khloe’s shoulder. “Uh … sure.”

Khloe smiled at his immediate cooperation, and pushed herself up on her tip toes to kiss his sweaty cheek. “You’re so sweet.”

Carly looked behind her for something or somebody who would save her, but the truth was, she didn’t have many allies at this school and two of the few were out with their new baby. Her older brother, Hudson, was giving a speech, representing the senior class because evidently that was what homecoming and prom kings did, not that she would have sat with her brother anyway.

Her gut twisted when the bell rang for the final hour and assembly to honor the victims.

A victim—that’s what they called Colten. Carly wanted to argue every time someone used that word. Maybe the others were victims, but considering Bree, Garrett and their baby wouldn’t be here if Colten hadn’t gone back into the school, Carly felt
victim
wasn’t the right word.

With one arm still wrapped around Jake, Khloe looped her other through Carly’s like they were following the yellow brick road together.

*****

“You okay?” Khloe whispered.

The freshman girls sitting in front of them turned and stared. When Carly scowled, they snapped forward. The seats in the auditorium were crammed with her loud, sweaty peers.

“I’m fine,” she gave the automated response.

The lights grew dim and a bright light shone on a white backdrop as a cheesy 80’s rock ballad about somebody missing someone began to play. Carly was wedged against the wall, Khloe in between her and Jake—who kept sneaking glances her way. The back of his hand ‘accidently’ ran up and down Carly’s arm as he stroked his girlfriend’s.

A picture of Colten in his football uniform flashed across the screen and a lump rose to Carly’s throat.  His hair was damp and his helmet dangled from one hand, while he held the other up in a fist pump. Carly was thankful for the breaks in between Colten’s pictures as photos of Ethan and the other
victims
were shown. She wondered whose idea this was anyway? Sniffles were heard over the horrible music they’d chosen to pair with the slide show.

“Are you sure?” Khloe asked again, with her own sniffle, as a picture popped up of Carly in her slinky, violet dress and Colten in his tuxedo, his hand hung loose over her shoulder and her corsage-hand sat on his chest, with matching wide smiles.

She tried not to think about the fact that the photograph was probably the last one ever taken of them together. She even remembered it. Madison Cunningham from the yearbook committee stopped and asked them to pose the minute they walked in the doors. Carly was glad she’d taken the time to fix her hair and makeup after they’d fooled around in his truck before showing up to the homecoming dance casually late.  Even more so now that the picture was plastered, mega-sized for the whole student body to see.

Again, the nosey freshman girls glanced back at her like she was some sort of freak show.  Why did everyone expect her to cry? It wasn’t like he didn’t cheat on her just three days before he died. It wasn’t like they were perfect and going to live happily ever after anyway.

“Got a problem?” She sneered. Even in the low light Carly could see their eyes widen before they flipped back around, ponytails swinging through the air.

Carly didn’t know how much longer she could take it, but she couldn’t leave, or even worse, cry like everyone expected her to.

“Do you want to hang out at the booth tonight?” Khloe whispered.

On the stage Hudson began to talk.

“I have to work,” Carly whispered back, keeping her eyes ahead like she was interested in what her brother had to say. She wasn’t and she didn’t plan on actually listening, just staring and concentrating on the fact that she wasn’t going to cry.

“Oh, well, maybe next time.” Khloe sounded disappointed.