Page 69 of Parker
The sound of a record scratching coincides with the video pausing. A close-up of Quinn and me sucking face in the phone booth freezes on the screen.
The heat in my cheeks triples…quadruples…oh my god, my whole family saw this. My brothers. My father. My grandparents. I could die.
Finally, the screen fades to Skylar and Rick sitting side by side, looking as wholesome as can be.
“By the way, Rick, that guy she’s practically humping in public? It’s Quinn Morgan, who’s also from Skagway. What in the world is going on up there?”
“I don’t know, Sky. But, for a more rated-PG family experience, I’d definitely skip Skagway.”
“A word to the wise,” says Skylar, “when you come to a convention towork, don’t act like awhore. Don’t be Parker Stewart, ladies.”
“Stay classy,” says Rick, putting his arm around Skylar. “Like my sister.”
“Aw! Best bro ever! So, friends, if you find you must travel to Skagway? Skip the Stewarts,” says Skylar, “and book with Jones! I promise we won’t get naked in front of your kids…”
“…punch you in the face…” chirps Rick.
“…or make out with random guys when we’resupposedto be working,” finishes Skylar.
“That’s all for me, Rick—”
“And me, Skylar!”
They smile wide and recite together: “We can’t wait to see you and your family in Alaska!”
The Jones family logo, phone number and web address flash across the screen before the whole thing goes black.
I’m breathing so fast and furious, my chest hurts. My eyes sting with tears. My stomach rolls over again.
“I’m gonna be sick!” I cry, leaping from the couch and racing to the bathroom.
Quinn chases me, and I hear him knocking on the door once I’m safely inside.
“Parker! Park, that was a load of bullshit! A hatchet job! Don’t let them get to you!”
I retch a couple of times, but nothing comes up. I sit on the toilet seat and let my tears fall, but my heart is so heavy, it hurts.
My family trusted me to represent our business and act professionally at this convention, and that video makes me look horrible—exhibitionist, violent, unprofessional, and sleazy… and—oh, my good Lord!— I’m making out withQuinn, whom they all believe is my nemesis. I look like a whore and a liar. I look…terrible.The only thing that outweighs my embarrassment is my shame.
“Park.” Quinn knocks weakly. “Please come out.”
“Um…” My voice wavers, then breaks. I take a deep breath and try again. “Um, I think you should go, Quinn. I have to pack up and leave for the airport at—”
“Parker, come out and talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“There’s a fuckload to say!” he insists. “Iloveyou…and I—Iknowyou care about me. We can—we can make a rebuttal video. Anyway, who cares what the Jones siblings have to say? I bet no one’s seen it!”
I flip over my phone and look at the number of views. My breath catches when I note it’s over 34,000. It’s bad enough that my family saw it. But if it actually impacts our business? If we lose potential clients? Stewart Travel is our livelihood. I’ll never forgive myself. Never.
Anger takes over a share of my current feelings, and let’s be honest, anger is so much easier to feel than shame or embarrassment or fear or sadness, isn’t it?
“Literally, thousands of people have seen it. So just shut up. Go, Quinn! I mean it!”
“Come out and talk to me. We can figure this out.”
More hot, stinging tears sluice down my cheeks, and I swipe them away, feeling this white-hot, profoundly intense, boiling fury start in my belly and quickly fork to all parts of my body. As it ramps up, taking root and ripening instantly, I feel totally and completely unhinged. He needs to go…and if he stays, I won’t beresponsible for what happens next. The next words I say are a warning to him.