Rachel Dyken - Toxic

“The three songs we’re going to be learning from The Music Man are, Shipoopi—”

Next to me, Princess fell into a fit of giggles. I smiled at her obvious interest in the name of the song, and looked back to the front of the room.

Saylor’s eyes met mine.

But she didn’t shy away.

She stared right freaking through me.

My heart started hammering against my chest. I refused to look away; instead, I kept my smile in place and directed it at her.

Because she deserved more.

She was here for the same reason I was… to make Princess laugh, to bring about joy in a world full of hate and darkness.

And for that reason — I owed her my respect, even if it meant I had to be careful as hell around her.

Saylor’s gaze finally fell away from mine as she named the next two songs and then dismissed everyone.

“Parker!” Princess shouted. Funny because she hadn’t full named me in a really long time. Usually it was just Park or that funny guy with the guitar.

“Hmm?” My knees cracked as I leaned down to eye level.

“Parker?” Saylor’s voice said behind me. “But I thought your name was Gabe—”

“No!” Princess started thrashing. “I hate that name! That’s a stranger’s name. His name’s Parker! P-parker!” Tears fell down her face as her mouth dropped open. A shriek fell between her lips as she continued thrashing.

Muttering a curse, I ran to grab the guitar and quickly sat down next to her and started playing.

Once I strummed the first few chords of our song, Princess stopped yelling and closed her eyes.

“Beautiful girl,” I sang, “My girl, beautiful girl. Don’t let me be lonely without you in my world.”

I strummed the last few chords.

Complete silence greeted me.

The residents were used to her outbursts and had the songs memorized just as well as I did, but it was my voice that did it. We even tried a recording once — didn’t work.

“That makes me happy.” Princess giggled. “Park, remember when we danced?”

“Yeah.” Visions of her dancing in front of me on two legs that worked flooded my mind until I wanted to bang my head against the wall. “You were always so much better than me.”

“Hmm.” She sighed.

The doors to the room opened and Martha strolled in.

“Hey, Princess, why don’t you and Martha go grab a snack while I talk to Saylor for a bit.”

“Okay!” Princess yelled. “And Saylor, his name’s Parker, not Gabe.”

“Got it,” Saylor said quickly. “Thanks for your help, Princess.”

“It’s okay,” she said, surprising me. “You didn’t know. But now you know, so you’ll call him Park.”

I didn’t want her calling me Park.

It was too much.

Too close.

“Yup!” Saylor’s voice had a cheerful edge. “I’ll call him Park, though it sounds like he’s a car.”

Princess laughed as Martha wheeled her off.

When Princess was out of earshot I grabbed Saylor’s arm and took her out the doors on the opposite end of the room — the ones that lead outside to the water. “Let’s take a walk.”

And we’re back to my original hypothesis — multiple personalities, well at least he named them. That had to be a good sign, right? —Saylor

Saylor

I followed Gabe silently out the doors into the crisp afternoon air. The home was nestled right up against Puget Sound. It had to have cost a fortune. It was prime real estate. Everywhere you looked you saw the tall buildings of downtown Seattle.

I’d grown up in the area — but the view never ceased to take my breath away, or calm me down. There was just something about the ocean that made you feel small.

It made you realize life was bigger than just you.

And I was beginning to think I needed that reminder on a daily basis.

“So…” Gabe thrust his hands into his pockets and fell into step along side me. “Wow, amazing. I can’t even come up with a lie that makes sense.”

I shrugged. “So try the truth.”

“Haven’t made a habit of that.” He stopped walking, and lifted his head. “That’s the truth.”

“Maybe you should.” I swallowed and gave a half shrug. “Make a habit of it, I mean.”

“Hmm.” He put his arm around my shoulders and in silence led me closer to the water.

When we reached the edge, he bent over, picked up a rock, and threw it.

He picked up another rock and examined it in his hand. “I used to be like this.”

“A rock?” I lifted my eyebrows. “As in you used to be really buff and let yourself go recently or…?”

Gabe threw his head back and laughed.

Holy. Heaven on earth. I loved his laugh. I mean, at the moment I kind of hated him, but his laugh was… something else. It made me want to fall prey to his charms — but I knew better. He didn’t do nice. He just… did girls, which apparently worked well for him.

“Cute.” He licked his lips, smile still in place. “No, but good to know my body ceases to impress you.”

Oh, it impressed me. I just didn’t want to give him any ammo to embarrass me again.

“I mean…” He bounced the rock in the palm of his hand. “I used to be solid like this. I was strong, unwavering, knew exactly what I wanted in life. But the thing is, I had no idea that I was in a bubble. I was on the shore where it was safe.”

I took a step toward him. “What happened?”

“Life.” He bounced the rock again, once, twice, a third time. “Circumstances out of my control, ones I thought I could control.” He shrugged and then sent the rock flying into the water, “Can you count the ripples?”

“Ten?” I guessed. “Maybe more?”

“More.” He nodded. “Because even when you no longer see the ripples, there’s still a vibration. I think so many of us go through life not realizing that when we get tossed like that, it’s no longer about us, but about everyone around us. The human condition is a type of infection. Selfishly, we’re under the impression that our bodies are our own, our thoughts, our actions — everything is all about our own choices, our own rights, to do whatever the hell we want and damn the consequences.”

He shrugged. “Until.”

With a curse, he looked down.

I wasn’t sure what the heck I was doing, or why I was offering the olive branch when I’d rather hit him over the head with it. But I grabbed his free hand and pressed my palm against his.

“Until,” he continued, seeming to draw strength from my touch, “something so horrific happens to you, or to someone you love, and suddenly you see the ripple effect of every single action and choice you’ve ever made. Sure my body’s mine to do with what I want, but the choices I make with it, still affect others. How I spend my time is my right — but in the end, it still affects those I don’t leave time for. There’s a yin and yang in life. But people seriously don’t ever realize it until it’s too late.”

“And it’s too late? For you?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “It is.”

We held hands in silence.

I took a deep breath and blurted, “I don’t know what you’re going through or what’s in your past. Clearly I don’t even know what your name is.”

He laughed again.

“But, I do know what it’s like to have your choices affect others. My brother… growing up, he was confused. He had no idea how much we were all hurting for him, and it was… awful. And now, having the pressure put all on me to get an education, to graduate, to be perfect in every single area. I get the choices thing… I get what you’re saying, because my life hasn’t been my own for a very long time.”

“Hmm,” Gabe whispered and looked down at our hands. “The perfect fit.”

I smiled. “Yeah, it appears so.”

“She calls me Parker…” He averted his gaze to the ground and squeezed my hand tighter. I held my breath, my heart pounding like crazy. “…because after her accident, that was the only part of my name she remembered. It’s still part of my full name, but not my first name.”

“Because your first name is Gabe,” I said. “Right?”

“Do you like fish?”

“Huh?”

Gabe released my hand and laughed. “Come on, either you like fish or you don’t.” His eyes were teasing as he bit down on his lip and crossed his arms. “I’m going to take you for fish.”

“Uh, as in we’re going fishing, or we’re buying a goldfish?”

Gabe shrugged and flashed me the same smile I’d been craving for two weeks. “Neither. Now, let’s go.”

I think… I was letting her in. Is what that felt like? To talk to someone and have them actually get it? I mean I was as honest as I could be and she didn’t freak out, call me crazy, try to kiss me, shout my name, though I wouldn’t be against the shouting, she just… listened. I liked it. —Gabe H.

Gabe

“Where are we?” Saylor asked, getting out of the car. It was one of the rare days that I’d actually driven my car.

A car that even Wes hadn’t sat in before.

I usually let Lisa drive it around when she needed it, but for some reason, it was one of those days and I’d decided to use it instead of my bike.

Saylor hadn’t said much when I told her to get in.

Though I had to admit a bit of pride when her innocent eyes took in my BMW coupe.

“Anthony’s,” I answered. “My favorite restaurant. I said fish, didn’t I?”

Saylor froze. “But, Gabe, my clothes. I’m not exactly dressed for—”

“You look perfect.” I shrugged. “Besides, who cares?”

Her gaze narrowed. “Do we really need to rehash that conversation?”

“I was pissed.” I looked away, shame washing over me. “Let’s just leave it at that.”

“How do you get so many girls?” Saylor asked.

I stumbled a bit. “Sorry, what?”

“No.” She smiled. “I’m dead serious. You are seriously the worst smooth talker I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

“False.” I snickered. “I could charm the dress off a nun — I just choose not to when I’m around you.”

Her face fell.

“Shit.” I wiped my face with my hands. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”

Yeah, or she was going to impale me on the sharp side of the swordfish decorating the wall.

“With you…” I said, sighing. “I can just be me.”

“A non-smooth talking jackass with shifty eyes?” she asked dryly.

I winced. “Ouch. You beat all your dates beyond recognition, or is it just me?”

“Just you.” Her smile was wide. God, I’d forgotten about that mouth of hers. And officially looking at anything but her mouth.

My eyes lowered to her chin. Perfect. There was nothing attractive about chins. Except they were attached to mouths and, well, hell, right back where I started.

“Can I help you?” The hostess asked.

“Two for dinner.” I didn’t take my eyes off Saylor. I should have. But I didn’t want to, and it was a day of not wanting to do the things I’d been doing for four freaking years.

So I continued staring.

I was probably going to get slapped soon but whatever.

The hostess handed us menus and filled our water glasses.

Saylor took one look at her menu, slammed it closed, and paled. “Gabe, we don’t need to eat here. The fish… it’s like, really expensive and you’re a college student and—”

“It’s fine.” I fought the urge to laugh out loud. I couldn’t spend all my money even if I wanted to. “Trust me.”

Her eyes narrowed. She crooked her finger for me to lean in.

“Do you sell drugs?”

“Holy shit!” I burst out laughing. “No! What the hell? Why would you think I sold drugs?”

She winced. “Mood swings, nice car, money, er, yeah, I’m just going to disappear under the table now.”

“I would love—” I accentuated the word love. “—to see what trouble you could get into under the table.”

“Ah-ha!” She pointed her fork at me.

I shoved it to the side.

“There you go again!”

“Go? I’m right here.”

“No.” She set the fork down and picked up her knife. To be safe I leaned back. “You do this all the time.”

“And by all the time you mean like in the last few times you’ve met me?”

“Don’t be an ass,” she muttered.

“You say ass funny, like you’re embarrassed you’re saying it.”

“Ass.” This time it was loud, unapologetic, hot as hell. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I croaked, felt it too.

“And don’t try to get me off topic. You do that too.”