We sat at the table, eating Chinese take-out. I warmed up to him after awhile, and he reminded me of how charming he was. I felt lighter, almost giggly, a marked change from earlier. As hard as I tried to push the thought from my head, I couldn’t deny that it was my plans with Travis that had brightened my mood.
After dinner, we sat on the couch to watch a movie, but before the beginning credits were over, Parker had me on my back. I was glad I had chosen to wear jeans; I wouldn’t have been able to fend him off as easily in a dress. His lips traveled down to my collarbone, and his hand stopped at my belt. He clumsily worked to pull it open, and once it popped, I slid out from under him to stand up.
“Okay! I think a single is all you’ll be hitting tonight,” I said, buckling my belt.
“What?”
“First base….second base? Never mind. It’s late, I better go.”
He sat up and gripped my legs. “Don’t go, Abs. I don’t want you to think that’s why I brought you here.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Of course not,” he said, pulling me onto his lap. “You’re all I’ve thought about for two weeks. I apologize for being impatient.”
He kissed my cheek, and I leaned into him, smiling when his breath tickled my neck. I turned to him and pressed my lips against his, trying my hardest to feel something—but I didn’t. I pulled away from him and sighed.
Parker furrowed his brow. “I said I was sorry.”
“I said it was late.”
We drove to Morgan, and Parker squeezed my hand after he kissed me goodnight. “Let’s try again. Biasetti’s tomorrow?”
I pressed my lips together. “I’m bowling with Travis tomorrow.”
“Wednesday, then?”
“Wednesday’s great,” I said, offering a contrived smile.
Parker shifted in his seat. He was working up to something. “Abby? There’s a date party in a couple weekends at the House.…”
I inwardly cringed, dreading the discussion we would inevitably have.
“What?” he asked, chuckling nervously.
“I can’t go with you,” I said, letting myself out of the car.
He followed, meeting me at the Morgan entrance. “You have plans?”
I winced. “I have plans…Travis already asked me.”
“Travis asked you what?”
“To the date party,” I explained, a bit frustrated.
Parker’s face flushed, and he shifted his weight. “You’re going to the date party with Travis? He doesn’t go to those things. And you’re just friends. It doesn’t make sense for you to go with him.”
“America wouldn’t go with Shep unless I went.”
He relaxed. “Then you can go with me,” he smiled, intertwining his fingers in mine.
I grimaced at his solution. “I can’t cancel with Travis, and then go with you.”
“I don’t see the problem,” he shrugged. “You can be there for America, and Travis will get out of having to go. He is a staunch advocate for doing away with date parties. He thinks it’s a platform for our girlfriends to force us to declare a relationship.”
“It was me that didn’t want to go. He talked me into it.”
“Now you have an excuse,” he shrugged. He was maddeningly confident that I was going to change my mind.
“I didn’t want to go at all.”
Parker’s patience had run out. “I just want to be clear; you don’t want to go to the date party. Travis wants to go, he asked you, and you won’t cancel with him to go with me, even though you didn’t want to go in the first place?”
I had a hard time meeting his glare. “I can’t do that to him, Parker, I’m sorry.”
“Do you understand what a date party is? It’s something you go to with your boyfriend.”
His patronizing tone made any empathy I’d felt for him disappear. “Well, I don’t have a boyfriend, so technically I shouldn’t go at all.”
“I thought we were going to try again. I thought we had something.”
“I am trying.”
“What do you expect me to do? Sit at home alone while you’re at my fraternity’s date party with someone else? Should I ask another girl?”
“You can do what you want,” I said, irritated with his threat.
He looked up and shook his head. “I don’t want to ask another girl.”