Page 100 of The Edge of Summer
“You didn’t wreck us, Delilah,” he says. “I’m not…madabout that.”
I nod, chewing on my bottom lip. “Still. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”
“I’m not. I would be in a group home if it wasn’t for you.” He looks down at his hands. “I’ve been really shitty at showing it, but I’m glad you took us. You’re, um... You’re doing a good job.”
I choke on a laugh. “You don’t have to lie to me, Parker.”
His brow furrows. “I’m not lying.”
“I took you away from your friends on a whim. I’ve been letting you down for months.”
“I know things weren’t easy with Dad at the end, so you might not believe me, but what you did is a big deal. You stayed for us when you didn’t have to.” He clears his throat. “That’s a big fucking deal.”
“Anyone would.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” he insists. “I won’t lie, I was angry at you. For taking me away from our home, from my friends. I was focusing on everything I was losing and not what I would gain. Because you’re happier here.” His eyes flick to the house. “So is Sophia. And I think... I think maybe Icould be, too.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how this works.I’msupposed to look out foryou.”
“Why? Because you’re older?” he counters. “That’s bullshit. You didn’t ask for this any more than we did. We’re family, so we take care of each other the best we can. The way I see it, you’ve spent a long time taking care of me and Soph. It’s about time someone took care of you.”
“Parker,” I whisper.
“I can deal. I can learn to call this place home, so long as I get to stay with you and Soph,” he says. “That’s all I want.”
“Always,” I promise. “I’m not going anywhere. But we need to talk. The graffiti. What’s going on with you? I know things have been shit lately, but you’re not that kid.”
He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Iknow.”
“I want to hear it, Parker.” I place a hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “All of it. I haven’t been great at this, but I’m listening now.”
“I—” His voice breaks, and so does my fragile heart. Suddenly, he looks every bit the sixteen-year-old boy that he is. “Deedee, I messed up.”
I wait for him to get his thoughts together. He looks so defeated, I struggle to stop myself from smothering him in a hug.
“A couple days after we moved, you and I had a fight. I— I just had to get out of the house, so I went to the skate park. These guys were there, smoking a joint. They offered it to me and I took it. And then I just told themeverything.”
“What do you mean by everything?”
Parker looks down, an angry blush coating his cheeks. “How angry I was at Mom and Dad for dying. How mad Iwas at you for not caring—not talking about them. How I hated this island. How I felt out of control of everything in my life.”
I swallow, trying not to let my emotions show on my face. He doesn’t need to worry about how I’m feeling right now. But I guess I don’t do a good enough job because he rushes to reassure me.
“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, I swear.” He swallows. “But that’s what I told them. At first, they were being supportive. I thought maybe I had found some friends here. But then they started getting weird ideas in their heads about getting back at you. I told them not to, but they called me a pussy and said they’d take care of it themselves. I didn’t think they’d actually?—”
His voice drops off, but I don’t need him to continue. I understand. “My car?” I ask.
He nods. “I met up with them again the other day. They had the spray paint, and I knew it was bad, but I just wanted to feel something else for a while. Then Luke found us, and Caleb and Markus took off.”
“And left you to take the fall,” I add.
His head hangs. “Yeah.”
I scoot closer on the bench and wrap my arm around his shoulders. He leans into me. We sit like that for a minute, watching the water in the pond move with the breeze.
“I’m proud of you.”
He scoffs. “You shouldn’t be.”
