Parker's Story Ch. 03: Houses

"Was I this bad at drawing when I first started?" Parker mumbled to herself. She was hunched over her desk and hadn't noticed the sun going down behind the wall of windows to her right. She'd been grading the first batch of assignments of her teaching career and should have been celebrating, but introductory art was almost never any good; she herself hadn't shown a scrap of talent until her senior year of high school.

"I know I was." Grayson's voice behind her made her jump and she whipped around. They hadn't spoken much in the last week, since he'd burnt the humiliating sketch of her.

"You do that on purpose." Parker eased back down in her seat and rubbed her temples. Now that she'd been distracted, she realized how much her head hurt. "What are you still doing here?"

"You first." Grayson's hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, his hair just as messy and falling in his face as always.

"I didn't mean to stay this late." She glanced over at the darkening sky outside, a tinge of pink still swiped across the horizon. "I should probably head home."

"Yeah, they're going to lock up soon. Wouldn't want to be stuck in here together all night." He smirked and winked at her. Parker busied herself with gathering up the rest of the drawings so he wouldn't see her blushing. "C'mon, I'll walk you out. Wait, are you taking that stuff home with you?"

"I need to finish grading it. Why?"

"Because, you little goody two-shoes. You've already been at it for hours and I think your students can wait another day." Parker hesitated. The actual teaching part could be draining, but she actually enjoyed grading the work. Grayson sighed loudly.

"Fine, nerd. Come on." He put a hand on her back and all but pushed her out into the hallway. The door shut and echoed loudly off of the tile. They walked slowly through the school toward the parking lot. It took Parker a minute to notice Grayson's hand still on the small of her back and she turned her head away to smile.

"Now that I think about it, you're right." Though his tone had been gentle, Parker nearly jumped as he broke the silence. "Grading should be a priority."

"You didn't know that until I came around? Jesus. What would you have done if they'd hired someone else?" Grayson ignored her.

"In fact, I'm going straight home to finish grading those containers the juniors made. I know I'm not supposed to take them home but come on, they really want me to stay here for hours and grade when I can do it from the comfort of my couch?" He gave Parker a significant look.

"Um, good?" Other than criticizing her work ethic, she didn't understand the point of his speech. After a few seconds Grayson rolled his eyes and stared at her.

"Would you like to join me, Parker?" he asked. Parker glanced over at him, open surprise on her face. He didn't wait for her to answer before continuing. "I know that for me, it'll go faster if I have someone to chat with. Well, it may not go faster, but it'll definitely go better. I may even hand out a couple of A's." His chatting had given her time to recover, probably as he'd intended.

"You don't live with your mom, do you?" She pretended to look him over, as if his mom had dressed him. "You look the type."

Grayson laughed and it changed his whole face. "You're finally coming around, I love it. So what do you say?"

"Alright, as long as you have food. I'm starving. If not I'm going to stop on the way."

"I have a frozen pizza or two, if that's healthy enough for you." She nodded and they fell silent again as they pushed open the doors and went out into the parking lot. Theirs were the only two cars left in the lot. "So just follow me in your car. I live a couple of miles away." He opened her door for her and winked as she sat down.

Parker was shaking as she watched him get into his own car and as she turned the key, she realized she was nervous. She wasn't going on a date, but the thought of being alone with a man after what she'd gone through . . . Pushing away the negative memories, she gritted her teeth. She couldn't let those old, shitty memories taint her new ones. Besides, it was just grading papers with a colleague. Nothing was going to happen. She followed Grayson's black car out and onto the main road.

Though she'd resolved to be in a good mood and not nervous, her hands still shook on the wheel. Grayson led her a few miles down the main road and then onto a side road. She knew there was a gated community not far down the street and was wondering if he could possibly live there when he slammed on the brakes and turned into a driveway. Parker nearly rear-ended him, and a slew of curses left her lips as she pulled in next to him. When she got out she could see he was beaming.

"You asshole," she seethed. Grayson shut his car door with a hearty chuckle. Parker stopped glaring at him long enough to glance up at his house and she was surprised to see that it was well cared for. Given his casual appearance and that ever-untidy hair, she'd expected overgrown grass and dirty shingles. Instead his two-story was clean and, well, normal. Wicker seats framed the front door and there was a row of bushes under the living room window.

"Not what you thought it would be, huh?" Grayson had been staring at her staring at his house and when she glanced over at him, something like pride colored his expression. He hopped up the front steps and unlocked the door for her, ushering her in. She stood in the dark for a few seconds while he bolted the door and then turned the lights on. They were standing to the side of the living room and directly ahead was the dining room. Parker took off her shoes and looked around.

It wasn't messy per say, just cluttered. A metal sculpture dominated the wall behind the dining room table, climbing up to the ceiling and melding into the corner. The table itself was covered with newspaper and a half-exposed lump of clay, surrounded by little models of whatever he was trying to make. The living room was littered with books and movie cases. Parker nodded, smiling.

"This is what I thought it would be," Parker said, turning to Grayson. His proud expression was gone, replaced by one she didn't recognize. He turned away and peeled off his jacket.

"I know there's a lot of madness in here, I just—I like it this way." He was trying to explain himself and it made Parker want to hug him.

"Hey, it's fine. I know I say that a lot, but this time, it is. It's fine. It's nothing like my house which probably means it's normal." Grayson's lips curled up into a brief smile and he waved the subject away.

"Let me go put that pizza in. I'd say make yourself at home, but . . ." He trailed off and disappeared around the corner into the kitchen. Parker picked her way over to the living room, not wanting to knock over any of the pottery that was either perched on a pedestal or just sitting wantonly on the hardwood floor. Grayson returned as she was clearing a spot for herself on the couch. "Shit, maybe this was a bad idea." He helped her move his books and began clearing off the coffee table.

"Grayson, really. Don't worry." He paused at her words, his head cocking to the side.

"That's the first time you actually said my name." Parker thought for a moment. Surely she'd said his name at some point. The look on Grayson's face said otherwise. "I like it."

"What, that I waited two weeks to say it? 'Cause I don't. I mean, you saved me from a half-crazed teenager and let's face it, you're kind of my only friend right now. I must have said it at some point." And why does it even matter? Parker thought to herself.

"That isn't what I meant, but let's focus on that one part for a second. I'm your only friend?" Disbelief laced his words. "That's not possible."

"Oh?" Parker wasn't sure why anyone would be surprised by that news. She was a private person and she'd been told that her resting facial expression was off-putting.

"What, did you just move to Ruwake for the job?"

"I'm from here. I lived in Eugene for four years while I went to the university, but other than that . . . Yeah. Here." Silence followed and Parker started getting nervous again. Her cheeks warmed and she cast around for a new topic, her eyes landing on a shelf above the television. A row of colored jars stood there and she got up from the couch to examine them. On the front of each was a different, intricately detailed etching.

"The Four Horsemen. You have no idea how long those bastards took to make. I had to completely remake that last one because the original cracked in the kiln." Parker's gaze slid to the jar in question. It was black, the image on it difficult to make out. She leaned over the TV and squinted. The image was shown from over the shoulder of a cloaked person, looking down on a field that stretched too far into the distance. The field itself was almost completely hidden, however, by dozens of dead bodies. Each face had its own unique expression of horror and even with the gruesomeness, Parker was impressed.

"I wish I could do that," she whispered, more to herself than to Grayson. When she turned around they looked at each other and it was clear he'd heard her. "I mean, I can draw, but I'm no good with ceramics. I remember the first time I threw on the wheel. My teacher had to sit behind me like in those cheesy romantic comedies and literally hold my hands through the whole thing. It was humiliating."

Grayson smiled and put his feet on top of the coffee table, pushing aside a stack of books. "What about now? Any better?"

"Not really. I took the required intro class in college, but that was pretty much just putting together vases with those coils."

"So if I, say, tricked you somehow into throwing . . . Would I have to hold your hands through it, too?" A dark expression lit his eyes and Parker's whole body responded. The two stared at each other for a long moment before he cleared his throat and released her from his heady gaze.

"Are you married?" Parker had no idea why she asked, it just came out. Grayson's eyes widened for a split second before he grinned.

"Of course not. You think a wife would let this sort of shit happen?" He gestured widely to encompass his whole downstairs. Parker shrugged.

"Anyone who marries you will probably be used to all of this already, or even contribute to the madness. She wouldn't care." Grayson seemed surprised by her response, though he recovered quickly.

"What about you, are you dating anyone?"

"No," Parker answered a little too quickly. The smile returned to Grayson's face.

"Why not?"

"I don't know, why aren't you?"

"Who says I'm not?" Parker had no reply to that. He could very well have a girlfriend, it wouldn't be a surprise. And it wouldn't matter, she told herself. She forced herself not to give said girlfriend a face though, for fear of losing all courage and running out the door. Whoever she was, if she existed at all, she was probably a lot better suited to him than Parker was.

"I need to start grading if I'm going to get home any time soon," she said. She went back over to her spot on the couch, shying away from Grayson. Taking a pen and a stack of paper from her bag, she pulled the top drawing toward her and started critiquing it quietly. After a few seconds Grayson took the hint and got up.

"The ceramic shit is upstairs. I'll be back." Parker nodded distractedly in his direction before returning to her work, though she relaxed a bit when he disappeared up the staircase. He came back down with a box but instead of going to the couch, he went to the dining room and started to carefully unpack the containers. When he was done he docked his phone on a stereo she hadn't noticed and soft music began to play. The two worked separately for twenty minutes before something in the kitchen beeped and Grayson disappeared again. He came back around the corner with a plate, setting it on the coffee table in front of her.

"Where's yours?" Parker asked, her stomach rumbling as she eyed the gigantic slice of pizza he'd given her. He left again and she slumped a little in her seat, perking up when he returned with a plate for himself and a glass in his other hand.

"Water for the lady," he said in a ridiculous tone that made her laugh. "TV or music while we eat?"

"Hm. TV," she said around a bite. Grayson turned the music off and dug around for the remote. The television turned on to a rerun of Roseanne. He glanced over at her and she nodded, so he tossed the remote onto the coffee table and settled in. Every few minutes he chuckled but otherwise they were comfortably silent as they ate.

Parker finished her piece and set the plate down, glancing over at her host. He was completely relaxed, his expression open and his body at ease. Her eyes ran from his feet on the coffee table, over his long legs, up his plaid-covered torso and to his arms folded behind his head. The sleeves of his shirt were once again rolled up and she studied the tattoos that were visible. "See something you like?"

Even though she knew it was a line, and a bad one at that, there was something husky in his voice that made Parker's stomach queasy. It reminded her of that first day of teaching, magnified a hundredfold. She forced her eyes over to his face and nearly gasped. His eyes were hooded, flashing as the scene on the TV changed rapidly, and his lips were parted ever so slightly. She automatically leaned in though he hadn't moved an inch and Grayson smiled. It wasn't the sarcastic smile she'd grown used to in the last two weeks, or the smug one; it wasn't even the proud one. Instead it was a smile so undiluted and genuine that Parker thought the heat rushing through her might set her on fire.

His feet moved from the table to the floor as he sat up slowly, eyes never leaving her face. The smile faded and his expression was intense in a different kind of way. "I don't have a girlfriend, Parker," he whispered hoarsely.

"No?" Her eyes fell to his lips and she couldn't look away. "Why not?" He leaned toward her with exquisite slowness, control calming every inch of his body.

"I didn't need one." His use of the past tense didn't go unnoticed, but she was too distracted by his proximity to form a proper answer. At what point in the last two weeks had she found the time to be attracted to him? She couldn't remember, but said attraction was undeniable at that point. The two of them were nearly touching as they faced each other. "Do you know what I need now?"

Parker shook her head, some of her loose hair swiping his stubbly jaw. He reached out with his impossibly quick fingers and snatched one of the locks. Twirling it around his index finger, he gazed down at her with unreadable eyes. "You don't?" he whispered, his breath hitting her cheek.

"No." Her eyes raked over every inch of his face as he leaned in closer, the tip of his nose brushing hers. They sat there, both unwilling to move, until Grayson's smirk returned. He dropped the strand of her hair and leaned back.

"You will."

********

August moved swiftly into September with Parker barely noticing. She was adjusting well to teaching, though the butterflies still appeared every morning as she approached her classroom. She'd taken the Bosch poster down after the Evan incident—and a stern talking-to from the principal—and replaced it with her own detailed drawing of a dragon. The students seemed to enjoy that one more and it got a lot less snickering, so she didn't mind as much that she'd been censored.

Parker had gone over her evening with Grayson a few times in the last three weeks, though his whole "you'll know what I need" thing still perplexed her. They still had lunch together almost every day but he'd returned to the casual, slightly mocking Grayson as opposed to the intense one she'd met at his house. In all honesty she couldn't decide which one she preferred. Her plan had been to avoid relationships in all ways, shapes, and forms, until she was completely sure she could handle it. The last person who'd touched her intimately had been a monster and she still woke up after nightmares about it, but that night with Grayson had changed something in her. He hadn't laid a finger on her but she still felt like . . . his. It was insane and she pushed the thought away whenever it reared its head, but it kept nagging her.

"Ms. Burrows?" Parker's head snapped up from her desk, eyes still slightly glazed over. One of her students was standing timidly beside her.

"Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you think this one is okay to use." The girl was holding out a piece of paper and Parker took it, pulling herself back into the present. Two pictures were printed out on it, the first showing an elephant and the second a devil's face.

"Yes to the first, no to the second. You can't use someone else's work. Make a sketch based on this idea if you want, but make the face unique to you." The girl nodded as Parker handed the paper back and she walked back to her table. Parker swiped a hand over her face. She was longing for a cigarette. "I'll be right back, guys. Eliza, make sure no one does something stupid." A few kids chuckled and Parker grabbed her purse, almost running as she made her way to the teacher's lounge. She'd only been in there once and was surprised to see it was empty. A few ugly chairs dotted the room, a coffee maker blinking on and off as she wove to the window and pulled it open. It looked out over the parking lot and she could see the football field in the distance.

"Sport are stupid," she muttered, digging her cigarettes out and lighting one. She closed her eyes with the first inhale and relaxed ever so slightly. All too quickly she reached the filter and ground the butt out on the windowsill, hesitating. After a second she pulled another from the pack and lit.

Five minutes and two more cigarettes later, her throat burned gloriously and she smiled as she left the lounge. She sprayed herself with perfume on the way back to class. As soon as she slid into her seat the lunch bell rang and she nodded languidly to the students as they left. Taking her customary meal from the mini-fridge, she made her way through the room and down into Grayson's. She couldn't see him at first and wondered if he'd decided to eat elsewhere—a thought that brought some of the tension back—when she heard a whirring sound and leaned over the upper railing.

Four throwing wheels had been pushed up against the little wall underneath and at the third one down was Grayson. His back was hunched as his hands moved swiftly along the curve of the vase he was forming, his hair hanging down in his face and shielding Parker from view. He wore his customary plaid with a green apron overtop, a few tools poking out from the pocket. He'd rolled his pants up to the top of his boots. She hadn't noticed the muscles on his arms before, but then she'd never seen him active. It was surprising to see his biceps tighten under his shirt. She watched as he slid a hand inside the vase and used his fingertips to form a gentle lip at the top. The whirring sound slowed and faded and his back straightened. Using a clay-splattered hand to wipe the hair back from his face, Grayson jumped when he realized someone was watching him. Parker smiled.

"Does the school know you're stealing their materials for personal use?" she asked teasingly. Grayson scowled.

"Does the school know what an annoying do-gooder you are?"

"Yes, that's why they hired me." She went down the steps and sat at one of the work tables while he cleaned himself up. He missed the smudge of clay on his forehead but Parker didn't say anything. She unpacked her lunch as he dug his out of the fridge and sat across from her on one of the stools.

"You're in a good mood today," he commented. It was true. She'd been slightly uncomfortable in his presence ever since the almost-kiss at his house and she knew it was stupid, but she couldn't help it. Maybe chain smoking before meeting him for lunch would turn into an everyday thing as long as it relaxed her. Instead of answering, she shrugged. Grayson kept glancing over at her as they ate, finally sighing loudly. "Alright, tell me what it is."