Unwritten: The Parker Allenton Chapters (Part 1)

Disclaimer: all characters in this short story are fictional/creations of my own imagination. Sights and locations are based on real cities/towns/National Parks located in the Western United States.

Parker Allenton

“Alright everyone settle down.” Mr. Smithers’ voice floated between casual conversations, never really rising about the throng of voices filling the classroom. “Times a wastin’ on this beautiful day.”

A chorus of groans rang through the room, including Brooklyn’s own contented sigh. Bad dad jokes and not-so-clever quips were the highlight of the first week of psychology class for Brooklyn and everyone else. Though she groaned with everyone else, Brooklyn secretly liked the cheesy phrases, especially since Mr. Smithers seemed unembarrassed by it all. He was who he was, bravely and unapologetically, and Brooklyn respected that. He also reminded her of Sam.

“Today is a very special day guys.” Brooklyn opened her notebook to a blank page as Mr. Smithers walked among the rows of desks, handing out slips of paper. “It’s lab partner day.”

Twenty-something heads popped up and gave Mr. Smithers their full attention, maybe for the first and last time all semester. Even as a sophomore, Brooklyn knew lab partner day was a big day in Mr. Smithers class. Unlike her lower level sciences, where she was either assigned a new lab partner every week or worked on her own, Brooklyn would work with the same person slash people the entire semester. More importantly, she, and everyone else in class, got to pick their partners. It resulted in an all out frenzy where people grappled for the prime lab times, tables and groups.

Worry was the furthest thing from Brooklyn’s mind, though. She turned back to her notebook, confident she was set up for success this semester. She and Skye agreed to be in the same group the first day of class, when Brooklyn assumed sign up would happen. She wasn’t alone. It was no secret Mr. Smithers “assigned” lab partners the second or third day, depending on the week’s schedule, but as the week progressed, there was no mention of labs or partners.

“Before we get into assignments, things are going to look a little different for labs this year.” A hush settled over the room as Mr. Smithers returned to the front. It seemed like everyone was holding their breath, waiting for him to post the sign up sheet. Even Brooklyn found herself on edge as the class was collectively wound tighter than a kids meal toy. “Twenty of you survived the first week, so this year, I will be splitting you into ten pairs, rather than five groups of four.”

The class was shocked into silence. Eyes grew wide, heart rates increased. The tension and fear was palpable as classmates shared worried looks. If this was some sort of social experiment, Brooklyn had to admit it was a pretty good one. Minus a handful of loners, most of the school functioned in packs, and the upperclassmen psych class was no different. Who would survive? Whose feeling would be crushed?

“How’s that going to work?” One of the seniors in the back, Eric, Brooklyn though, loudly whispered to his neighbor. “There’s only five tables in lab.”

“I’m very glad you didn’t ask Eric.” Skye and Brooklyn shared a glance and sideways chuckle, amusement in both their eyes. “Lab will happen on A and B days this semester, so half of you will work on A day and the others on B day.”

The class exploded. Objections flew threw the air and people digested Mr. Smithers words, but Brooklyn stayed silent, processing the information. The high school schedule was unique. On normal days, students sat through a total of eight class periods, each individual session thirty minutes long. Freshman took eight separate classes, but juniors and seniors often took a single class for two periods, since they were able to be more selective with their schedules. Psych was one of those combined period classes.

The schedule seemed simple until the high school decided to add “A” and “B” days. Brooklyn was confused by the concept when she first started, mostly because it really didn’t make sense. Twice a week, students would only take half their classes for eighty minutes, the odd period on “A” days and the even periods on “B” days. The principle claimed it was to give the teachers extended time with students, but Skye had her own theories behind the sudden schedule change.

“But Mr. Smithers,” Lauren Clungborn’s hand shot up in the air as her voice carried above the panicked conversations. As the self-proclaimed know it all and president of the student government, Brooklyn wasn’t shocked to see Lauren had an opinion, though she was surprised by the panic in Lauren’s eyes. “What if we don’t have the same lunch period as our partners?”

Brooklyn’s hand flew to her mouth. She hadn’t thought of that conundrum. Because of the extended classes, “A” and “B” lunch periods worked differently so all students could be fed in a timely manner. Since Psych was a third and fourth period class, the lunch times cut into both periods.

“An excellent question Lauren.” Mr. Smithers proudly produced a slip of paper from his pocket and smiled at the class. “After last year’s debacle, I will be assigning partners this year based on your lunch schedules.”

Brooklyn’s heart sank. Because her schedule was all sorts of weird and messed up, she was stuck eating late lunch. Normally, it didn’t suck. Brooklyn had plenty of friends her own age who were also stuck eating super late in the afternoon. The problem was that Skye was in early lunch, which meant there was little to no hope Smithers would randomly assign them as partners.

The class collectively held their breath as Smithers rattled off the Wednesday partners. Brooklyn listened closely, making a mental list of all the people her partner couldn’t be. A grovely groan escaped Skye’s lips when she was paired with Shirly, the class Barbie girl, and Brooklyn was ashamed to admit she was a little relieved with the pairing. She felt horrible for her best friend, but Brooklyn couldn’t stand Shirly. She was one of two people Brooklyn couldn’t partner with, not for her own sanity’s sake.

When the five “A” day pairs were announced, Smithers quickly moved on to “B” day, barely allowing for any reaction or chatter. Brooklyn listened to the remaining ten names, continuing to check them off the list as potential partners. She waited with anticipation, but after a full minute, only two names remained unsaid by the teacher. One was Brooklyn’s, and the other, she desperately hoped, she missed somewhere in Smithers’ rattling.

“And the final “B” day pairing: Parker Allenton and Brooklyn Pieper.”

Brown black hair whirled like a top as Skye spun to stare at Brooklyn. A handful of girls, Shirly included, shot daggers at the back of Brooklyn’s head. A high five and subtle “way to go man” could be heard from the back of the classroom. Brooklyn saw and heard all this, but did not process it. Her mind was too consumed with Smithers’ voice ringing in her ears. The entire situation felt like a bad dream. In a few moments, Brooklyn would wake up, and it would all be over. She and Skye would be lab partners, and everything would be as it should.

Because if there was one person who would be a worse partner than Shelby, it was definitely the cocky hockey star Parker.

And yet, when Brooklyn opened her eyes, nothing changed. Girls were still staring daggers at the back of her head. Shirly herself looked like she was ready to snap her No. 2 pencil in two. A worried look was etched in Skye’s perfect browline, and Smithers drowned on about their first partner assignment. Something about getting to know each other, and the worksheet on the table.

All too suddenly, chairs were screeching against the waxed wood floor of the classroom, finally breaking Brooklyn’s daze. Her classmates moved around the room, finding their freshly assigned lab partners before moving to other spaces. Some left for the actual lab or library, opting to conduct their partner interviews out of ear shots of others, but Brooklyn was rooted in her seat, staring at the blackboard in front of her while trying to process the last five minutes of her life.

Until her view was suddenly obstructed. One minute, she was staring at the classic chalk stained black surface, and the next, the image was replaced by the shoulder of a blurred grey blue denim jacket.

“Hey Pieper.”

A boy with a man’s body had the audacity to sit at the desk in front of Brooklyn. She fought the urge to slap the smug smile off his unfortunately attractive face, which was now complete with faint hints of sand colored scruff around his sharp jawline. Technically, boys were supposed to be clean shaven at Estes Park High, but the rules rarely ever applied to Parker Allenton.

But it was the amusement in his eyes that bugged Brooklyn the most. Pompous prestige danced in the golden green orbs, taunting Brooklyn with their arrogance. It was a gaze meant to entice and insult, and Brooklyn was not about to fall for it.

“Parker. Brooklyn. Everything all right over here?”

Brooklyn’s mouth hung in the air, a sentence forged on the tip of her tongue. Before she could give it life, though, Mr. Smithers wandered over, checking in on his newly minted partnership. “Everything is fine.” Again, Brooklyn’s mouth dangled open, but Parker spoke before she could respond to her teacher’s question. “Would it be ok for me and Brooklyn to work in the library?” Now, Brooklyn’s mouth gaped in shock. She thought she was back in the bad dream. Parker Allenton did not use complete sentences or proper grammar. He also never asked a teacher for permission. He just did things, whether or not people actually wanted him to. The boy could literally murder someone in the lunch room, and students and teachers alike would bow to him like a king. It was disgusting to Brooklyn.

“I don’t see why not.” Mr. Smithers smiled at the two teenagers, a pleased look on his face. Brooklyn tried to object with her eyes, but the glare was overlooked by the teacher. She didn’t want to go anywhere alone with Parker Allenton, much less the library, but like always, no one could say no to the stud hockey player. Brooklyn supposed she would be the first.

“Great.” Parker turned his smile from Mr. Smithers to Brooklyn, “See you down there partner.”

Brooklyn growled as her teacher and partner walked in opposite directions. It was going to be a very long semester .

***

Parker was waiting for Brooklyn when she finally walked into the library. He opted for one of the large circle desks designed for large groups of six or eight. An image of a haughty King Arthur popped into Brooklyn’s head, causing both her anger and nostrils to flare. The inconvenience he was causing other people, taking up such a huge space when he only needed a little bit. It was infuriating, something Brooklyn couldn’t stand.

“Come on.” The cold hardness of her own voice scared Brooklyn as she walked by Parker without a second glance. “We’re moving.” Parker didn’t object. He picked up his backpack and followed Brooklyn to a different table, one that was much better suited for their needs. It was a standard table for four, technically still big for two people, but at least Brooklyn wouldn’t feel guilty about taking the large round table when other people might need it.

She set her backpack down on the chair next to her, forcing Parker to sit on the other side of the table. Brooklyn hoped he would sit in the chair across from her backpack, putting the most physical distance between the two of them. Of course, he didn’t. Parker plopped down in the seat directly across from Brooklyn, making the scene far more intimate than Brooklyn wanted.

“I want to set some ground rules.” Brooklyn avoided all eye contact by setting up her space, painstakingly using every last millisecond to spread her belongings on the table.

“No, we can’t make out in the paleontology section. The librarian watches it like a hawk now.”

Despite her internal instructions, Brooklyn’s head shot up so she could make direct eye contact with Parker. She was immediately taken aback by his unfair levels of attractiveness. Parker Allenton was not a horrible person to be stuck looking at for hours, even if it was under personal protest. It was as though he was sculpted and painted by Michaelangelo with athletic ability to boot.

Really, it just wasn’t fair how physically perfect he appeared.

“I’m not going to be one of those girls that does all the work for you.” Brooklyn plowed on, ignoring Parker’s childish comments altogether. “You’re going to have to pull your weight, and that means doing at least half the work. I’m not putting it all on my shoulders. I’ll do my part, but you have to do yours. End of story.”

Brooklyn held firm by holding eye contact with Parker. She wanted him to fully understand the gravity of her situation. She knew how most girls operated about him. Most volunteered to do his homework for him, making it so easy, he never had to lift a finger. She assumed it’s how he got through his first three years of high school without failing, but that wasn’t going to fly with her. It may cost her a letter grade, but Brooklyn wasn’t about to do Parker’s work for him, and he needed to understand that.

Parker’s response surprised Brooklyn. He didn’t pout or complain, like she expected. Instead, he merely held her gaze, a glimmer of respect and admiration in his eyes.

“We clear?” Brooklyn cleared her throat and broke eye contact, busying herself by opening a notebook. The staring contest with Parker was intense, but not like any of their previous staring contests. The first was driven by competition, and the second was filled with demeaning insults and anger. This once was different, though Brooklyn couldn’t quite put a finger on why. It unsteadied her though, and that was something she didn’t necessarily enjoy.

A smile returned to Parker’s face. He was playing a game, Brooklyn could sense it. She just didn’t know what it was. Yet.

“Crystal.”

The two shared a nod then turned back to their worksheets. An awkward silence settled over the table, at least for Brooklyn. She said her piece, and with her anger temporarily subsided, there was really nothing left to say. A part of her felt empty and disappointed. She thought her confrontation would turn into a full blown argument, potentially one that involved flying objects. It wasn’t supposed to be that easy. Parker Allenton wasn’t supposed to just comply. He was a hockey player for goodness sake, and she had so much more to say.

“So when should we meet?” Calm radiated through Brooklyn when Parker spoke, yet another thing she was shocked by.

“Meet?”

“To work on our lab reports?” Parker looked at Brooklyn expectantly, but all she could do was hitch her eyebrow in response.

“Work on our lab reports,” she repeated with the youthful stupidity of a sophomore. “Like outside of class?”

Parker let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his perfectly styled hockey hair. It felt like he was trying to restrain his full reaction for Brooklyn’s sake, and she wasn’t all that ungrateful. She felt like an idiot, like the ridiculous underclassman she was trying so hard not to be.

“This isn’t Intro to Chem and Bio, Peiper.” Parker leaned across the table, “You’re in the big leagues now. Smithers won’t give us time in the computer lab to work on our reports. We get lab day, that’s it, and these experiments take the whole eighty minutes.”

Parker leaned back in his chair with the grace unknown to Brooklyn, “You were straight with me. I’m just being straight with you.”

Brooklyn nodded, hoping the shock she felt wasn’t etched all over her face. Based on Parker’s sudden look of concern though, it was.

She cleared her throat, “When don’t you have hockey?”

Parker chuckled, “I skate every day, but Sunday is the only day we don’t practice. Occasional tournament game, but that’s our standard off day.”

“That works,” Brooklyn kept her tone neutral, though if she was being honest, she really didn’t like homework on Sundays, unless it was necessary studying for a test. “Any other days?”

A casual shrug, “We aren’t allowed to play Wednesdays. We could meet when I get home from practice.”

“How late is that?” Brooklyn really didn’t want to complain, but Wednesday was the one night she actually got to hang out with Skye. It was Criminal Minds night after all.

“Don’t worry, I know about girls night,” Parker said with a smile. “Wednesday is the night before labs are due anyway. I can be out before Skye comes over.”

Brooklyn balked. Skye claimed she and Parker were sworn enemies and had been since freshman year, but somehow, Parker knew about Criminal Minds night, something that had only been happening for a year and a half.

“Sure.” After a beat, Brooklyn regained her composure, “Sunday and Wednesday will work great.”

Parker gave her a knowing smile and the two quickly got to work answering the questions on the sheet. She didn’t need to ask the answers, though, to know one very important thing about Parker. He wasn’t at all the stereotypical hockey player she assumed he was. Parker Allenton was an enigma, and Brooklyn had all semester to figure him out.