Unwritten: The Parker Allenton Chapters (Part 5)

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.

When Brooklyn woke the next morning, she barely recognized the girl in her bathroom mirror. Crinkled sheet lines pressed into her skin, and her whole face drooped like a wilted flower. The slick fabric of her work uniform wrinkled against Brooklyn’s skin, folding in unnatural places. She did not have the energy to change into pajamas the night before, opting to just curl in bed with Sokka and ignore her problems.

It wasn’t as though those problems disappeared overnight. The fight still happened. It wasn’t one of Brooklyn’s nightmares that plagued her during the night. It was a real event, and all she felt as she looked at her mangled appearance was guilt and worry. Guilt over the fight with Sam and anxiety over his demeanor. Something was different, but there weren’t enough psychology classes in the world to explain Sam’s behavior. At least, not to Brooklyn’s knowledge.

But it was a Monday. As much as Brooklyn wanted to crawl back in bed, school would happen whether she wanted it or not. So she showered, got dressed, and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen, determined to apologize to her dad, whenever she saw him again.

That was sooner than Brooklyn expected. Unlike every morning for the last month, Sam Pieper was sitting in his chair, eating a bowl of cereal while reading the morning paper. Just like pre-February.

Brooklyn blinked, unable to accept the scene in front of her. Her dad was in the house, awake and alert, with a clean shave to boot. The exhausted mountain man who waited in the chair was gone, disappeared to the nearest outpost, and instead, Sam Pieper remained like his old self.

“Hey Brookie!” Sam’s smile was bright and wide, and Brooklyn wondered if the last month was a bizarre fever dream brought about by a bad cold. “You want some eggs this morning?”

Brooklyn could only nod in response before collapsing into a kitchen chair. It really was like old times, when they first moved to Estes Park. Sokka even took residence at his normal spot under the table, patiently waiting for crumbs to fall on the floor.

“Look dad,” Brooklyn started once she felt like her head was on straight. “I’m really sorry about last night. I should have called the station to let you know I was going out with Parker, and I should have been home earlier.”

“No Brooklyn.” Sam set a steaming hot plate of scrambled eggs in front of Brooklyn before sitting down in the seat next to her. “I’m sorry. You were right. You’ve never done anything to betray my trust, and I was wrong to be so upset.”

A lump of emotion swelled in Brooklyn’s throat, but she swallowed it. Her dad wasn’t so successful. Sam’s eyes glistened with a dampness only created by tears, a sight Brooklyn couldn’t stand to see.

“It’s ok dad,” Brooklyn reassured awkwardly. The situation was completely foreign to her. A parent apologizing to a child was unheard of in the media, and if it ever did happen, the child was often smug. Brooklyn didn’t feel smug. She felt overwhelmed by emotions she didn’t understand, and she wanted those feelings to stop. “I guess we both acted a little foolish last night.”

“Yeah we did.” Sam offered Brooklyn a compassionate smile, indicating the conversation could be over if she wanted. “But how I treated you was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

Brooklyn nodded, “I’m sorry too dad.”

With that, the conversation was over. The fight was resolved, and Brooklyn almost felt normal, except for the single thought nagging at her brain.

“Is everything ok at work?” Brooklyn swirled the eggs around with her fork, hungry but with no desire to eat.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in the chair across from her, but Brooklyn held his gaze. War ragged in his eyes as he debated his answer, which scared Brooklyn more than she cared to admit. The answer should have been straight forward, a simple yes or no, and yet, Sam hesitated.

“No." Settling on an answer, Sam answered. "One of the park's grizzly bears woke up in mid-February.”

Brooklyn’s eyebrow stretched toward the ceiling, “But that’s too early.”

Sam nodded, “We’ve been trying to track and bear at night, but we can’t find her. And now, people are starting to go missing.”

Brooklyn’s mind whirled. Rocky Mountain National made headlines a few weeks earlier when two experienced backpackers were reported missing.

“The backpackers?” Again, Sam nodded, “A total of three hikers now. One of the search and rescue guys missed his checkpoint last night.”

Brooklyn sat in the chair, her mind completely numb to the outside world. Nothing about this conversation was legal. Sam was sharing confidential information, and now Brooklyn would have to keep it confidential as well. She couldn’t exactly share this news with anyone. It was one of the perks and curses of her dad’s job, but usually, he never shared anything as scary as this.

“Are you ok?” The question slipped out before Brooklyn could stop it. Yes, there were dozens of questions on her mind, but that was the only one that mattered. Was her dad safe?

“Brooklyn listen to me,” Sam looked Brooklyn dead in the eye as he made a solemn vow. “So long as you live under this roof, I will always come home to you.”

Brooklyn’s lip quivered as she fought back tears. Her unchecked emotions threatened again, but this time, they were too much. Brooklyn couldn’t bury them to the point of no return, so she reached across and pulled her dad into a hug, feeling whole for the first time in weeks.

“You want a ride to school Brookie?” Sam’s voice cracked as he spoke, and Brooklyn knew he was choked up too. “For old times sake?”

Brooklyn pulled away from her dad and smiled, “Can you pick me up from school too?”

“That might be tight,” Sam admitted, “But I would try.”

Brooklyn ended driving herself to school, mostly because she had to work afterwards, but the two made plenty of other plans instead. Sam promised to take her to the state championship game if Parker’s team made it and agreed Brooklyn could drive with Bri and Teaghan, two of her sophomore friends, for the quarterfinal game on Thursday. In five minutes, the last month of Brooklyn’s life washed away. She had her dad back. Sokka was acting like a puppy again, not the elder statesman he really was, and Brooklyn was whole, at least for one day in early March.

***

Parker Allenton and his team did not win the state title later that week despite his best efforts. The junior scored a natural hat trick, and his third goal gave the co-op team a 3-2 lead late in the third period. In the winding seconds, though, Cinderella scored to tie the game before winning in dramatic fashion in the second overtime.

Brooklyn witnessed it all. She and her friends drove to Denver both for Thursday’s quarterfinal and Friday’s semifinal before Saturday’s championship. Teaghan had a soccer game, Bri had to work, and Skye hated hockey, so Sam and Brooklyn journeyed to Denver alone to witness one of the best high school hockey games in Colorado history. It was one of the best weekend’s of Brooklyn’s life even if it came at Parker’s expense.

Even after the tournament was over, life was seemingly back to normal for Brooklyn. Sam was home nearly every morning in the following week, and Skye was acknowledging Brooklyn’s existence again. It seemed like the newness of her relationship with Eric was dwindling, and Skye could hang out with her old friends again. She was even planning to join Brooklyn and Sam for the Lion Lake hike, something the two of them planned during their Wednesday Criminal Minds viewing.

So Brooklyn was naturally excited when she walked into school the Friday after the state championship, and there was an extra spring in her step when she walked into psychology. The hike was less than twenty-four hours away, and the forecast predicted perfect weather for a mid-March hike. No overnight snow and a nice, sunny fifty degree day.

“You still good for tomorrow?” Brooklyn casually asked Skye after she sat down in her designated spot. Even when Skye and Eric started going out, Eric was forced to move across the room to sit by his girlfriend, not the other way around. It was the only nice part of their new relationship, at least from Brooklyn’s point of view.

“Tomorrow?” Skye’s left eyebrow arched into her forehead, her typical signal of confusion.

“The hike?” Brooklyn’s heart plummeted, but she worked to hide it from Skye. It wasn’t unusual for Skye to forget plans or days of the week. There was a lot going on in her home life, and it wasn’t unusual for her to think Thursdays were Fridays and visa versa. At least, that’s what Brooklyn rationalized before her next sentence. “Lion Lakes with me and my dad?”

Brooklyn’s plummeting heart was replaced by frustration when she saw Skye’s reaction. Her eyes widened in recognition and horror as she realized she screwed up.

“Oh shit, that’s this weekend?” Skye’s hand flew to her head in dramatic fashion. “Crap Brooklyn. I’m so sorry. I totally spaced and told Eric I would help him babysit his nephews.”

On cue, Eric walked into the class deep in conversation with Parker. The two quickly glanced in Brooklyn and Skye’s direction before returning to whatever they were talking about.

“I’ll talk to Eric. I’m sure he will be fine if I show up late.” “No, it’s totally fine.” Brooklyn channeled her inner sales associate and reigned in every sarcastic fiber in her body. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. We can go another time.”

Again, on cue, Eric sat down and immediately grabbed Skye’s attention. She greeted him before turning back to Brooklyn with a sincerely apologetic face, “I promise I’ll make it up to you Brooklyn.”

“No worries,” Brooklyn busied herself with her notebook, trying to seem as casual as possible. While she claimed it wasn’t a big deal, it really, truly was. Brooklyn was getting sick of playing second fiddle to Skye and being treated as though she was a throw away friend that would always hang around. This wasn’t the first time Skye conveniently forgot plans she’d made with Brooklyn, and it was almost always because of a boy.

Those thoughts stewed in Brooklyn’s head for the entire class. Smither’s lecture on Pavlov’s dog simply added fuel to Brooklyn’s fire, confirming the thoughts her logical brain knew were ridiculous. It was as though Brooklyn was caught in a downward spiral of thoughts, and only the bell broke her out of the trance.

“Alright everyone remember,” Smithers cried out over the scraping chairs and metallic zippers. “Next week is the deadline for any missing work, even your partner reflections.”

Brooklyn barely registered the words. She was already packed up and out the door, mostly to avoid more exposure to Skye and Eric’s mushiness. Brooklyn wasn’t quite sure if a sighting would cause her to vomit on site or punch someone, and she didn’t exactly want to find out. Besides, she turned her homework in every Monday like a good student and didn’t actually need Smithers’ reminders.

“Hey Pieper, wait up!”

An exasperated sigh escaped through Brooklyn’s nose, and was immediately replaced by guilt. Parker didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of her frustrations with Skye, though if anyone understood, it would probably be him.

“Hey Allenton,” Brooklyn tried to hide the frustration in her voice and was surprised when she sounded tired instead. “What’s up?”

Apparently, Brooklyn was unsuccessful in hiding her inner feelings from Parker. The boy raised an eyebrow as the two stood at one end of the hall, separate from the students milling about there.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” Brooklyn looked back at the classroom, catching a glimpse of Skye and Eric leaving class together, hand in hand. Tension fused Brooklyn’s hands into fists until a brilliant idea popped into her head. “What are you doing this weekend?”

Brooklyn swore a shade of pink spread across Parker’s nose and cheeks, almost like he was nervous or embarrassed by something, “I was actually going to ask you that.”

“Well,” Brooklyn started, suddenly feeling a touch of nerves herself. Parker Allenton suddenly seemed taller and bigger than he had seconds ago, and Brooklyn almost lost her nerve. “My dad and I are going on that hike, the Lions Lake one I told you about. Anyway, I was going to see if you wanted to come. On the hike that is.”

Brooklyn couldn’t believe her ears. It seemed like she was speed talking, the words pouring out of her mouth like water rapids. Chaotic and uncontrolled, making this moment bigger than it really was. Brooklyn was merely asking a friend to hang out, like she’d done a hundred times before, but her heart was hammering so loudly, she nearly missed Parker’s answer.

“Oh, that would be cool. What time are you leaving?”

“Seven a.m.” Brooklyn answered matter-of-factly before remembering Parker wasn’t a hiker. “It’s an hour drive, and the hike itself is usually seven hours. I know that sounds long, but I promise it’s not. Plus, my dad and I bring snacks.”

Parker had a bemused look on his face, but Brooklyn could see the cogs turning in his head. He was doing mental math, seeing if he could do the hike and whatever else he had planned.

“That should work.” His answer was hesitant, as though he was still trying to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. “My mom and I were going to spend the day and make dinner together, but we can do it next weekend.”

“No!” Brooklyn’s voice carried through the hallway, causing several bleary eyed freshmen to look in their direction. “Parker, you can’t cancel on your mom. She’s been looking forward to this for weeks.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration. Paula Allenton loved the weekend after the high school hockey season ended because it meant she got her son back. For 24 hours at least.

“It’s no big deal Brooklyn,” Parker rationalized, clearly not understanding the full implications. “My mom and I can just do it another weekend.”

“No, I’m not breaking up the tradition.” Brooklyn tried to sound nonchalant but firm. Every year, Parker spent the first Saturday after hockey season ended with his mom, going shopping and doing typical mom and son things they couldn’t do during the rest of the year. In her moment of brilliance, Brooklyn forgot it was that particular weekend, and she wasn’t about to ruin Parker’s special weekend. “My dad and I will definitely go back to the lake when there’s less snow. You can come then.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flashed through Parker’s eyes, but relief was mixed in as well. “Well, you’re still invited to dinner. Your dad too, if you get off the mountain in time.”

“That would be awesome.” Brooklyn wasn’t lying. Her smile was wider than Texas, and for a moment, she completely forgot about Skye and her boy problems. Brooklyn’s brain was absorbed with math. Sure, the hike was seven hours minimum, but she and Sam were experienced hikers. There was a good chance they could cut it down to six hours if the snow cooperated. If there was a chance, there was a chance they’d be back to Estes Park by six. “Maybe see you tomorrow?”

Parker nodded, “And if not, Sunday for sure.”

***

Brooklyn spent the evening packing backpacks for the hike. It was a delicate science she perfected at a young age, and since there was no climbing gear, packing was significantly easier. There was no need to figure out where to put the hooks and chords that allowed for both comfort and easy access. No need to cram snacks and pray they wouldn’t be smushed by the first aid kit. Extra socks would actually serve as extra socks, not buffers, and only the tiny tent needed to be packed in case of an emergency.

It was an easy task, one Brooklyn could usually do in her sleep, but that night she was distracted by the conversation with Parker. She replayed it over and over again, trying to figure out if it had some bigger meaning than just two friends getting together for dinner. Brooklyn and Parker hung out outside school all the time when practice and work allowed, especially after Parker’s visit to Adventure Endeavours.

The rumors about Brooklyn and Parker’s relationship status also started circulating around this time. Basically, most people thought they were dating or, even more scandalous, sleeping together. A freshman girl claimed to see them kissing behind the school during lunch one day. A handful of sophomores claimed Brooklyn and Parker were caught “doing things” by one of the janitors during third period. A senior boy boasted he joined in until his girlfriend heard the rumor and dumped him during gym class.

None of it bugged Brooklyn, at least, not really. Rumors she could handle, and she was already used to the glares and stares. Every girl in the school simultaneously wanted to be her and kill her. It was almost comical at this point, and Brooklyn’s friends knew she would never sleep with Parker. He drove her nuts ninety percent of the time, and he was not charming enough the other ten percent of the time to make up for it.

But Brooklyn could admit there was a lot she got wrong about Parker Allenton. Sure, he was cocky and he knew he was hot shit, but he wasn’t actually the stereotypical jock. He certainly wasn’t an idiot. Brooklyn was shocked to find out Parker was taking a handful of college level classes through the local community college and was taking senior level classes as a freshman and sophomore. Very few people knew Parker was actually a genius, especially when it came to English. Brooklyn wasn’t a slouch when it came to writing, but Parker had a way with words that took almost anything to the next level. He was so articulate and poised, at least on paper, which was a stark contrast from the bravado he displayed at school.

Plus, Parker cared about people. Yes, Parker’s persona was larger than life, but it was the little things he did every day that were more impressive to Brooklyn. He went out of his way to help kids at the elementary school, and his relationship with Riley was one of the purest things Brooklyn had ever seen in her life. Parker also visited the special ed room at least once a week and called out bullies in his own, nonchalant way. When he spoke, people listened. When he moved, people watched. Parker had a spotlight on him twenty-four seven, but no one ever seemed to notice this version of Parker. No one except Brooklyn.

Brooklyn thought about all these things as she climbed into bed at eight, and they lingered through her dreams, to the point where dating Parker Allenton almost seemed appealing.

***

Why’d you have to go and make things so complicated? I see the way you’re acting like someone else. Gets me frustrated.

It was six the next morning when Brooklyn was bolted awake with a start. The fuzzy details of a dream clung to her memory as though holding on for dear life. There was a faint outline of Parker Allenton and Brooklyn together, hanging out, she assumed, but there was something else, something more her mind desperately fought to remember.

You try to be cool. You look like a fool to me. Tell me…

Brooklyn looked at the boombox blaring Avril Lavigne, trying to remember why on earth she was up so early on a Saturday. Sokka was sleeping soundly at the foot of her bed, curled up to half his regular size. He clearly didn’t need a morning bathroom break, and Brooklyn wasn’t scheduled to work that Saturday.

“The hike!” The thought ramrodded Brooklyn like a freight train, but she didn’t mind. The hike was one of the few things that made parts of the week bearable. Even the weirdness of Friday diminished as Brooklyn got ready for the morning. The fight with Skye, the weird moment with Parker and lingering anxiety for her dad hit the backburner as Brooklyn focused on last minute packing and dressing for the day. It was nice to focus on something else, especially something logical that made sense to Brooklyn.

She was midway through picking out the day's meals when she heard Sam bounding down the stairs. A wave of relief washed over her, and Brooklyn allowed herself to smile. A part of her wondered if the hike would actually happen. If Brooklyn believed in karma or signs or whatever cosmo-magic Skye babbled about, everything would scream the hike wasn’t happening. There was just too much not going right. Brooklyn believed in the science of her gut, and as Sam clomped around upstairs with Sokka, Brooklyn’s gut unclenched, not fully, but slightly.

“Hey dad!” The sound of clomping feet and dog tags filtered from the stairs to the kitchen. Brooklyn tried not to read into it too much, but her chest tightened as she reached for the dried food meals and walked toward the front room. “Do you want mac and cheese or pad thai for lunch?”

The tightness in Brooklyn’s chest dropped to her stomach when she reached the front of her house. Her dad was at the base of the stairs dressed in his Park Ranger uniform with Sokka pacing around his ankles, batting away Sam’s boots anytime he tried to put them on.

“Dad?”

Sam looked up at Brooklyn with guilt filled eyes, and Brooklyn knew that little clench in her gut was right. Maybe karma actually was real or the stars simply weren’t on her side.

“Dad? We're still going hiking today, right?” Brooklyn hated how small and weak her voice sounded when she asked the question. For the second time in almost as many weeks, Brooklyn felt like she was a child begging or pleading for something she couldn’t have: time with her dad.

“I’m sorry Brookie.” The words sounded sincere off Sam’s lips, and it made Brooklyn feel even worse. “There’s been an emergency at the park, and it’s all hands on deck.”

“Emergency?”

“We lost contact with a national photographer and his guide.” Sam’s tone was all business, as though he merely flipped a switch from dad to park ranger. “National Geographic sent them out to capture early spring at the park, but because of the bear, we gave them a walkie talkie and asked them to check in each night.”

“And they didn’t last night?”

“No, or this morning,” Sam explained. “We thought they might be out of range, so we sent out a small search party this morning, but the dogs lost the scent at an abandoned tent site.”

Everything in Brooklyn’s body went cold as she was gripped equally with frustration and guilt. Yes, Brooklyn could admit she was both sad and a little angry Sam was getting called into work on a Saturday again, but guilt seized her body any time those thoughts popped into her head. There were people missing, and she shouldn’t be grumbling about a hike when her dad was needed to save them.

“Brooklyn I’m really sorry.”

“It’s ok.” For the first time that week, Brooklyn actually meant those words when they slipped out of her mouth. With Skye, it was a flat lie. With Parker, it was a guise to hide her disappointment. With her dad, though, it really was ok. At least, this time. “Just be safe ok?”

Sam took a single step and kissed Brooklyn on top of her head, “I promise. You can still go on the hike with Skye if you want.”

“Nah,” Brooklyn didn’t bother telling Sam Skye already cancelled on her. “I’d rather wait for you.”

Sam smiled and pulled Brooklyn into a hug, “What did I do to deserve a daughter like you?”

Brooklyn thought of a sassy response, but instead returned her dad’s hug with equal intensity. Sokka, feeling fairly left out from the emotional moment, circled his two humans before letting out a small whimper.

“And what did I do to deserve such a needy dog like you,” Sam bent over, patting Sokka on the head before turning his attention back to Brooklyn. “I know you’re all grown up and can do whatever you want, but do you think you could avoid the woods? Just for today.”

Brooklyn nodded in agreement. She missed her hikes through the woods and was hoping to take Sokka on a new trail once the snow fully melted. Brooklyn also loved her dad, though, and knew this would ease his mind while he was at work. Something about the woods in particular had spooked him, and Brooklyn knew anything that spooked Sam was worth avoiding.

With a quick hug and kiss goodbye, Sam was off, leaving Brooklyn and Sokka alone in the too empty house. Somehow, Brooklyn managed to fall back into a fitful sleep for a few hours, but her dreams were riddled with anxious thoughts about Sam and his case. Sure, hikers go missing in the national parks every year, but not like this. Not in Brooklyn’s lifetime, and the bear excuse didn’t make sense. Bears rarely attack humans unless immediately threatened, and Brooklyn doubted a bear would be responsible for five human deaths without anyone knowing.

These thoughts didn’t disappear the moment Brooklyn woke up. Her mind kept trying to fit the facts together like a puzzle, only the pieces didn’t match. The logic didn’t add up, and after taking Sokka on not one, but two hikes around the neighborhood, Brooklyn knew she needed some sort of distraction. There sadly weren’t that many options. She refused to pick up a shift at work even though Tallia complained about them being short staffed the day before. Skye was obviously occupied. Bri was working. Teaghan was playing in a soccer tournament an hour away. Brooklyn’s friends were always asking to hang out, but the one weekend she was actually free, everyone was busy.

“It’s karma.”

Without warning, Parker’s voice flitted through Brooklyn’s mind. He too was a believer in karma and superstition, and he claimed it was because of his hockey upbringing. If he didn’t tape his stick just right and lace his skates the exact same way, the juju was off. It’s why they lost the state championship game apparently. Parker didn’t switch out his blades between the second and third period.

Then Brooklyn remembered. Parker invited her over for dinner. Well, Parker’s mom most likely invited Brooklyn to dinner. Parker was just the messenger, but it didn’t matter. Dinner was something Brooklyn could do, a way to get out of the house that didn’t break Sam’s rules.

Without really thinking, Brooklyn found the phone and dialed Parker’s number from memory, a process that took all of two seconds. Eons passed, though, before someone answered the phone. The other end rang, and rang, and rang. Each time, Brooklyn’s breath hitched further up her chest, clogging her airway entirely. Her tongue seemingly swelled to the size of a pumpkin, and her mind all but concluded this was an awful idea when a voice suddenly appeared on the other end of the phone.

“Allenton residence.”

Brooklyn forgot all forms of speech. Words evaporated from her brain. It was as though Brooklyn was frozen in time, phone clutched in her hand, Sokka standing protectively at her side, as though sensing the oddness of the situation.

“Hello?”

“Hey Parker!” Whatever paralysis Brooklyn slipped into was gone. She regained her focus and composure. “Sorry. Sokka was trying to get into something.” Sokka headbutted Brooklyn in the knee, nearly knocking her to the ground. He barked once, as though giving Brooklyn cover, before expectantly sitting at her feet. Some sort of reward was required for the cover up, preferably scratches or treats.

Smart dog, Brooklyn thought.

“Brookie.” A faint whirring accompanied Parker’s surprised tone. “How’s the view from the top of the world?”

Brooklyn laughed and turned toward the window, ignoring her attention seeking dog. “We didn’t end up going.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is everything ok with your dad?”

Even through the phone, Brooklyn could hear the concern in Parker’s voice. The boy was shockingly intuitive. Brooklyn thought she’d done a pretty good job hiding her anxiety about her dad, but Parker picked up on it. More than she realized at least.

“We just decided to go later this spring.” It wasn’t a lie, Brooklyn knew, but it wasn’t exactly the whole truth either. “I was calling to see if that dinner invite was still open?”

Dinner invite? Brooklyn internally scolded herself. Her brain felt like complete mush, and any words that vacated her mouth sounded stupid.

“Yeah. Well, wait. Hey mom, can Brooklyn come over for dinner?”

Brooklyn stifled a laugh as Parker tried and failed to muffle the conversation with his mom. Of course she was invited to dinner, and no, she didn’t have to bring anything. Just herself at six o’clock sharpish, according to Parker. Sokka was invited too, if he could stand the drive, but if not, Parker would send leftovers home for him.

Brooklyn didn’t listen to half of Parker or Mrs. Allenton’s advice. She spent the entire afternoon making her famous dirt cake and sifting through her closet for an appropriate outfit. Normally, Skye was the go-to for fashion advice, followed closely by Bri. Brooklyn settled for Sokka, whose commentary was the occasional cocked head and whimper. He licked her hand after outfit six, so Brooklyn figured the black striped turtleneck, blue jean combo was the winner.

At 5:30 p.m. sharp, Brooklyn found herself standing in Parker Allenton’s driveway, feeling extremely out of place on Millionaires Row. It was like a pony show for the richest of the rich, a neighborhood where “my horse is bigger than your horse” was a real competition. In comparison, the Allenton house was actually quite modest. It was in a severe identity crisis, stuck somewhere between a single-family and a McMansion designed to look like a giant cabin. In Brooklyn’s mind, it was anything but rustic, cozy and intimate, all things a cabin was supposed to be.

A luminescent green reflected off Brooklyn’s fist as she rapped it against the front door. The walk to get to this point felt longer than a ten-mile uphill hike, and waiting at the front door was longer than the Allenton’s tree covered driveway. The evergreens provided complete privacy to the Allenton residence, making it impossible for anyone to see Brooklyn standing at the driveway. That fact was truly of little comfort as Brooklyn stood there hoping someone would open the door.

“Brookie!” Just as Brooklyn was about to knock a second time, the door swung backward, revealing a very excited Parker. “What took you so long?”

Brooklyn cocked her head, carefully repositioning the Pyrex bowl in her hands, “Excuse me? What did you say?”

“Kidding,” Parker quickly interjected with an awkward smile. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too,” Brooklyn admitted, though the tightness was quickly returning to her chest. “I brought some dirt.”

Brooklyn stuck the bowl in Parker’s directly, and he took it with a leery look, “Glad Sokka could join us in spirit. I hope it’s from the garden in the backyard.”

“No you idiot, it’s dessert,” Brooklyn conceded, holding back a snort.

“Sure it is.” Parker maintained his skeptical face, “Come in. I’ll pop this in the fridge and give you the grand tour.”

“Freezer actually.” Brooklyn mentioned as she shut the door behind her. “I think it thawed a little on my trek to the other side of the world.”

“Now you see why I like going to your house.” Parker’s voice drifted off as he abandoned Brooklyn to her own devices in the narrow entryway. She was shocked to find it was rather simple, void of overly obnoxious paintings or sculptures declaring the family’s wealth. No, the Allenton entryway was simply a long hallway made of golden oak and two walls, one for an expansive coat closet and the other adorned with an organizer thing, where one could set their keys and plop their shoes. “My mom went to the store, so we have the house to ourselves.”

“Oh my God!” Guilt gripped Brooklyn’s body as she untied her boots. “Parker, you didn’t have to buy extra food did you?”

“Oh God no. Mom just wanted to buy us sparkling wine so she could enjoy wine without guilt.”

In an instant, Parker transformed from teenage hockey star to pretentious, spoiled brat, heightening his persona with an atrocious British accent that he maintained throughout the tour of the three bedroom, three bath house with an unfinished basement (though if it was up to Parker’s father, the basement would be finished by the end of the year). At some point, Mrs. Allenton returned home, full bottle of red wine in hand, but she shooed Brooklyn and Parker back to the tour despite their joint insistence on helping finish the meal.

“So it’s just you then,” she finally asked when Paker reluctantly showed Brooklyn the inside of his bedroom. The largest room on the lofted second floor, it was every bit what Brooklyn expected Parker’s bedroom would look like. The masculine grey-blue walls were covered in sports posters the way a teenage girl’s walls were adorned with images of Leo DiCaprio, Orlando Bloom and the Backstreet Boys. No laundry was actually visible, but the closet doors were seemingly bursting at the seams, waiting to release a mountain of dirty clothes to the world.

“Yep,” Parker answered, his back to Brooklyn at the other end of the room. “Just me, mom and dad. Mom wanted more kids, but I guess dad said ‘why mess with perfection?’.”

Brooklyn noticed the bite in Parker’s tone as he spoke. She knew very little about Daniel Allenton other than the fact he somehow owned half the town, and Parker didn’t like him.

“Will he be at dinner?” Brooklyn sat on Parker’s bed, noting that underneath a patchwork quilt, was a top of the line mattress built for a king.

“No, he’s out of town at some convention or something.” Relief dripped through Parker’s response as he continued to walk through his room, as though seeing it for the first time. Before he could finish his statement, though, Mrs. Allenton and her ovenmitted hands appeared in Parker’s doorway.

“Dinner is almost ready, you two.” A high, polite voice accompanied the petite, slender woman, enhancing her homey ambiance. “Brooklyn, do you think you could help me set the table? I want to give Parker a moment to re-evaluate his outfit.”

Parker looked down and his typical outfit of sweatpants and a t-shirt, “What’s wrong with my sweats?”

Mrs. Allenton pursed her lips, and Brooklyn contained her laugh. Parker was one of the few teenagers who could pull off the comfortable athlete look without looking like a twig amongst a sack of potatoes. However, it was clear the look wasn’t mother approved. At least, not on that particular night.

“I’m not asking you to wear a tux,” Mrs. Allenton protested. “Just spruce up a bit. Please. For me.”

Parker opened his mouth to argue, but seemingly thought better of it. Before Brooklyn could interject, though, Mrs. Allenton whisked her away to the kitchen where she was briskly put to work setting the table. Brooklyn didn’t mind, though. She felt bad just sitting doing nothing even though Parker insisted it was better to listen to his mother and stay out of the kitchen.

“That’s a lovely watch,” Mrs. Allenton complimented, pointing to the rare piece of jewelry on Brooklyn’s wrist. It was a simple watch made of sterling silver, with a braided band that was apparently popular in the late 80s and 90s.

“Thank you.” Brooklyn could have left it at that. Thanks Mrs. Allenton for the compliment and changed the subject, but she responded in a way that shocked her. “It was my mother’s.”

“Oh, what does your mom do?” Mrs. Allenton’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Parker has only ever mentioned your dad.”

“She died,” Brooklyn offered, taking a moment to clear her throat. “Cancer.”

“Oh, Brooklyn. I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Allenton’s features softened, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Brooklyn shrugged and focused on the bowl in her hand, “It’s ok. I didn’t know her. She died when I was two, but my dad says I’m a lot like her.”

“Well then she must have been an extraordinary woman based on everything Parker's told me about you.” A glimmer appeared at the corner of Mrs. Allenton’s pale blue eyes, and Brooklyn suddenly felt uncomfortable. Brooklyn never talked about her mom, not even with Sam unless it was an off handed compliment or comment, and she wondered why she offered up such personal information to a woman she only just met. It wasn’t as though Brooklyn was fishing for compliments or a mother figure, and she didn’t know how to react to Mrs. Allenton’s compliment.

“Parker was probably exaggerating, Mrs. Allenton,” Brooklyn settled on self-deprecating humor, her best defense in the face of a compliment. “I’m really not that great.”

“Brooklyn, call me Paula. Please.”

“Yes Mrs., I mean, Paula.” Brooklyn smiled at her slip, and Paula Allenton smiled back. She immediately looked ten years younger, and Brooklyn wondered what could make a forty-something year-old woman look nearly sixty.

“Brooklyn, I don’t think you realize the impact you’ve had on our lives.” Brooklyn glanced over at the woman and saw she wasn’t exaggerating. The glimmer in her eye grew to a full tear, though it was clear she was fighting for composure. “Parker will never admit it but these last few years have been hard on him, and not just because of the hockey attention either.” The conversation grew silent as a door opened on the upper level. As though sensing their time was up, Paula Allenton lowered her voice so it wouldn’t carry to Parker’s ears. “I just want to thank you, Brooklyn. Parker smiles a lot more now that he’s friends with you. He’s much more himself, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Brooklyn opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, Parker bounded into the kitchen with a dopey, boyish grin on his face.

“Is this ok?” Parker stretched out his arms and did a slow twirl, making sure his mother could see his outfit to its full effect. Mrs. Allenton wasn’t the only one looking though. Parker really outdid himself that night as he donned a wine red cardigan over a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans, making Brooklyn feel underdressed.

“You make it sound like torture,” Brooklyn commented, noting the dimples carved in Parker’s cheeks. Sure, he acted like it was pure torture wearing jeans instead of sweatpants, but deep down, Parker didn’t really mind it. The cooking, the shopping. He put up a big stink, but underneath it all, Parker Allenton was a sweetheart.

“It is,” Parker replied, but his wide smile didn’t match his cynical tone. It was a smile reserved for big hockey wins and the most private of moments. The kind no one at school ever saw because Parker was too busy playing his role: hotshot hockey player. Cocky, boisterous and a heartbreaker of epic proportions. He wasn’t supposed to possess a heart of gold, but he did.

As Brooklyn sat down and joined the Allenton’s for dinner, she saw Parker shed every layer he wore at school. The private smile was a permanent fixture on his face as he moved fluidly with an ease Brooklyn didn’t quite understand. His athleticism was on display with every movement he made, whether it was capturing an errant strand of spaghetti on his fork or catching Brooklyn’s glass in the nick of time, saving her from surefire embarrassment. The scene was like something out of a movie, the merriment and wase glazed over by perfect food and the soft tinkle of piano music in the background, creating an almost intimate setting.

Until, suddenly, it was shattered.

“Seal the deal, and call me on Monday.” A boisterous, oily voice silenced all conversation at the dinner table and sent an icy chill through a room that moments before felt warm and welcoming. “And play hardball if you need to.”

A man as slick as his voice suddenly appeared in the kitchen area, a silver flip phone attached to his left ear. To Brooklyn, everything about him screamed new money from the navy blue suit and blood red tie to the brand new Rolex peeking out from under the left coat sleeve. He was also extremely rude. Rather than hang up upon entry to the dining room, the man continued his conversation as though Parker, Paula and Brooklyn didn’t exist, his voice growing in volume to demonstrate his importance.

Brooklyn knew exactly who the man was without an introduction. It was the only absent member of the Allenton household, the one person Parker detested more than the Minnesota Wild: his father, Daniel Allenton. Real estate magnet in the tiny town of Estes Park, hell bent on owning every small business in the town, and therefore, destroying them, at least, according to Parker.

“I don’t care what’s best for the client Diane. Do whatever is needed to make the sale.” Without warning, the cell phone slammed shut, sending a jolt through the entire table. Brooklyn fought the urge to jump in her seat, but instead channeled her nervous energy into the intricate patterns she was drawing with her fork.

“Who was that dear,” Paula Allenton ventured to speak after a few beats of silence.

“Diane at the office” Dan Allenton helped himself to a plate of chicken parmesan and salad, his every movement assertive and domineering. “Can you believe it? Clint Brecker won’t sell his business. Been in the family for generations apparently. We’ve offered him double what it’s worth, and he still won’t budge.”

The minute the man opened his mouth, Brooklyn felt the strong desire to run. She wanted to be anywhere other than sitting at that dining room table, and she wasn’t the only one. Parker’s body was completely rigid, but not out of fear. No, Parker looked ready to strike if the moment presented itself.

Paula Allenton was different. The middle aged woman suddenly looked weary and tired, as though forty-some odd years of life caught up to her in a single moment. Her eyes were both resigned and defeated, and her already thin lips seemingly disappeared into a taut line.

“Why are you here?” Parker’s voice was unrecognizable. It was methodical and deep, a threat poised at the tip of every word. His dad was not welcome to join in the festivities, though Brooklyn didn’t understand why. Parker never actually told Brooklyn he hated his dad. Parker went frosty and cold whenever he came up in conversation, so Brooklyn steered clear of the topic, happy to talk about anything else.

“The conference ended early.” The man picked up a plain piece of bread and spread butter over its surface. Brooklyn wondered if anyone would introduce her to the stranger at the head of the table, but she doubted he was a person she would actually want to know. “You’ll never guess who called me today.”

“Don Lucia?”

“He wants you Parker,” Daniel Allenton plowed forward the conversation, ignoring the clear bite in his son’s response. “The Gophers want you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want them.” Parker’s voice was pointed, clear. That was the end of the discussion as far as he was concerned. Brooklyn knew he verbally committed to Denver, but in the world of college athletics, nothing is official until you put pen to paper. As the No. 2 high school hockey recruit in the nation, Parker was well sought after, but he said most people honored his decision to play for his hometown team. Most people, being the key phrase. “I’m going to Denver.”

“But think of your future Parker,” Again, the Allenton patriarch pressed on with little concern for Parker. “Denver won’t prepare you for the NHL. They’re not even a power player when it comes to college hockey.”

“Well that’s funny, considering they’ve been nationally ranked and just won the WCHA.”

“You’d be a national contender with the Gophers. Nationally ranked. Top draft prospect. Bernadini doesn’t think you even need to go to college. Just play juniors for a few years and go straight to the pros.”

“I’m going to college.” Brooklyn swore she saw fumes soaring out of Parker’s ears as he gripped the fork in his hand. He wasn’t even trying to hide or mask his anger. “And I’m going to Denver.”

“Don’t be foolish, Parker. A handful of scouts are coming to the All-Star game next weekend, and they’re coming to see you.”

“Dan,” Paula’s voice was timid but strong as she reached out and gingerly placed her hand on her husband’s. “Please.”

“No. Our child should consider all the options before throwing away his future on a college degree he doesn’t need.”

“Oh, really dad? Am I throwing away my future or yours?”

“You don’t need a degree, Parker.” The room grew heated around Brooklyn as she sat there toying with a neglected piece of lettuce. “Bernadini believes a year, maybe two max, of juniors before you're ready to go pro.”

“I am not playing juniors, dad.”

“I’ll need your extra tickets to the All-Star game regardless.”

“Why?” Parker leaned back and crossed his arms, glaring at his dad. “You already have a suite reserved.”

“They want a chance to see you up close. The suite is too far.”

“Well, too bad. I already gave them two to Riley and the other two to Brooklyn.”

For the first time that night, Dan Allenton noticed Brooklyn’s presence. He looked down the table with a sneer, his beedy brown eyes boring into hers. Brooklyn didn’t back down, though. She matched his gaze with the same level of intensity, her competitive drive refusing to give in to his demonstration of dominance.

“This isn’t up for discussion, Parker.” The man was talking to his son, but the words were clearly directed at Brooklyn. She didn’t even know what tickets they were talking about, but she refused to give them up.

“You’re right,” Parker suddenly stood from the table, a not so subtle announcement of his departure. “It’s not. Riley and Brooklyn have the tickets, so you’ll have to find another way to wine and dine your friends, just like the rest of the parents.”

Parker paused to pick up his plate, “Thank you for dinner mom. Brooklyn, I’m sorry my dad is a prick.”

With that, Parker walked into the kitchen, his movements magnified by the silence blanketing the room. The clattering of his plate in the sink clashed against the dull throb of the room, but nothing was more deafening than the sound of his thundering footsteps as he ascended the stairs.

Brooklyn, sensing the discomfort, squirmed in her seat, “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Allenton. It was lovely.”

“Thank you for coming dear.” Paula Allenton absentmindedly rubbed her left shoulder with her opposite hand, as though that singular motion would wipe all her concerns away. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get to dessert. It looked wonderful.”

“It’s ok. It probably needed to thaw anyway.” Brooklyn grabbed her plate and reached out for Mrs. Allenton’s. “If you’d like, I can take your plate and get started on dishes.”

“That’s ok dear.” Paula dismissed Brooklyn with a simple wave of her hand. “I need to have a chat with my husband. Besides, I think you’re needed elsewhere.”

Brooklyn nodded, acknowledging Paula’s hint. Still, she didn’t immediately head up the stairs to Parker’s bedroom. Instead, she walked over to the sink and cleared both her and Parker’s plate before meandering upward, happy to get out of the battlefield before the firing squad took their positions.

“Hey Parker,” Brooklyn practically leaped the stairs two at a time only to be greeted by a closed door when she reached Parker’s room. It was only then she realized she ventured into uncharted territory. Brooklyn didn’t have siblings, so she didn’t know what to do in this situation. Sokka wasn’t exactly a moody dog, and even Skye, on her worst days, rarely sat and sulked behind a closed door. For a moment, Brooklyn panicked, wondering what the right thing to do or say was. Then, Parker’s advice flitted through her head: Just treat them how you wanted to be treated.

“Parker, can I come in?” Inspired by her friend’s words, Brooklyn knocked the maple oak door and tried the handle, not actually waiting for a response. Sadly, it was locked, ruining the first part of her plan. Still, she lightly knocked again, “Parker?”

Nothing. Silence. Not even the creak of the bed or the sound of movement. Whatever Parker was doing, he didn’t want Brooklyn to see. She guessed he really didn’t want anyone to see. This was the vulnerability Parker guarded with his life, the thing he didn’t want anyone at school to see. Even Brooklyn.

“Well, if you need me, I’ll just be out here.” Brooklyn leaned her back against the door and slid to the floor so she was in a seated position. Snippets of the Allenton’s conversation floated up to the bedroom, making Brooklyn wish she had something to block out the noise. Listening to the conversation, she wanted nothing more than to break into the bedroom and give Parker a hug. That’s what she would have wanted. Someone to hold her. To care for her. She guessed Parker would at least appreciate it, even if all he wanted to do was sulk.

Still, there was no movement in the room. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty, but Parker never moved. He never opened the door to invite Brooklyn in. Down below the conversation between Dan and Paula Allenton grew in volume, to the point where Brooklyn couldn’t ignore it. She couldn’t sit there anymore and twiddle her thumbs, waiting for Parker to open that door.

“Parker,” Brooklyn knocked on the door and tried the knob again. For a moment, it moved, ever so lightly, sparking hope deep in Brooklyn’s chest. The movement abruptly stopped, though. “Parker. It’s Brooklyn. I’m still here for you, but I can’t sit outside your door forever.”

Brooklyn paused, hoping the veiled taunt would work. It didn’t. The door remained locked and shut, protecting Parker from the outside world.

“I need to go home and let Sokka out.” Brooklyn glanced at her mom’s watch. Sokka was fine, Brooklyn knew. Sure, he would be happy if Brooklyn came home early, but she fed and let him out before leaving for dinner. Brooklyn just needed an excuse to get out of the Allenton house. “You’re more than welcome to come over. I’m sure Sokka misses you.”

Nothing.

“I’m still here for you Parker. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. You just need to let me in.”

With that, Brooklyn stood from her spot outside the door. She waited a beat to see if her conversation spurred Parker, but it seemingly fell on deaf ears. The barrier was still up, and for a moment, Brooklyn wondered if it would ever open again. Yet she still paused one last time at the top of the stairs. Brooklyn didn’t want Parker to think she abandoned him. Quite the opposite actually.

Brooklyn didn’t return to the kitchen when she reached the bottom of the steps. She didn’t announce her exit. She quickly but quietly made her exit from the Allenton house, hoping like hell Parker might follow. When she reached her car, though, Parker Allenton was nowhere to be found, and it broke Brooklyn's heart.