Magnolia Parks: Chapter 11

I don’t really know what happened the other night with me and Parks, but it felt like something. I’ve hooked up with too many girls in front of her over the years, she’s never intervened… Even if I’ve wanted her to, hoped she would.

We’re both stubborn and shit.

I don’t remember a ton from last night. I do remember holding her hand in the back of the car, though. Bit weird for us, to be honest… Maybe I’ll grab her hand to lead her through a crowd. Hold it a few seconds longer than I need to, but we’re more for the touching around touching. Buttons that need done up, cufflinks, zips she can’t reach even if she can, necklaces to place around her—that’s how we make do these days.

But this was different. It was overt. She undressed me in her bathroom. Took off my jacket, lifted my shirt up off over my head. She swallowed nervously, put her hands on my chest and watched me for a few seconds. I should have kissed her. I don’t know why I didn’t. I didn’t want her to pull away, I didn’t want to make her angry. We fell asleep that night and I was holding her. I sleep in her bed all the time, but I never hold her in bed. And I kissed her on the cheek when I left in the morning to head for a shoot, and it felt like something.

All of it, felt like something.

So, when I called her today and asked her to come out with me and the boys, it threw me that she said no.

“Oh.”

“I’m just—I’m quite tired,” she said. She was lying. We slept like fucking babies. Plus, she’s a shit liar and clear as glass. She’s scared or some shit.

“Cool.” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me.

“I’ll see you later?” she said, her voice sounding nervous.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Yep,” I said but what I really meant is I love you and you’re killing me. Then I hung up.

Tonight, I head out with the sole intention of getting fucked up. It’s my MO, we all know that by now. The boys are already at Raffles when I get there. I guess it’s on my face, whatever the fuck’s going on with Parks, because Jo takes one look at me and says, “Uh oh.”

“On the pull, mate?” Henry eyes me and I ignore him.

And then the drinks are flowing.

You know how there are a key few moments in your life that stand out, like, your first kiss, and the first time you realise your parents are just people too and hearing Coldplay’s “The Scientist” for the first time and falling over and really fucking up your knee, like your first hospital visit, all that shit—meeting Parks is one of them for me.

She was four, probably? She came over for a playdate with Henry and I was kicking about with a ball in the yard. I don’t know how she wound up outside, but she did, and she was watching me. She was tiny. Long little brown legs, scraggly almost. Her hair was lighter back then. Little kid hair.

“You’re a bit good,” she told me from a few metres away.

“Thanks.” I grinned up at her, pleased with the attention. I did a few kicks that I thought were cool to show her just how good I was.

“I would probably be better if I wanted to be,” she said.

And listen, I have sisters. No way was I going to tell this girl she couldn’t be better than me, even then at all of six years old, I knew it was true. She was. In every way, at everything…

“You probably would,” I agreed, picking up the ball and walking over to her. “I’m BJ.”

“I’m Magnolia Katherine Juliet Parks.” She paused. “Henry’s my friend.”

“Henry’s my brother,” I told her.

She looked at me, really looked at me. “I like your face.”

Parks doesn’t remember saying that. But I remember her saying it. It set me on a course for life.

I was high as a fucking kite for the rest of that day. Probably been chasing that feeling ever since. And sometimes I wish I could go back in time and tell little me to fucking run—that this girl is going to ruin you, she’ll be all you think of, all the time, she’s going to bake biscuits, grind up your heart and use it for sprinkles, she’ll hurt you and you’ll hurt her, and you’ll never, fucking ever, get past her. But I can’t.

And even if I could, what parts would I change? The parts where I had her? Never.

But this old fucking dance we do. I hurt her, she hurts me, I sleep with a girl, she dates someone else—it’s well-rehearsed now. It’s my move. Imagine if I was above it… Imagine if I hadn’t already picked out which one of these girls flocking our table is the one I’m going to take home.

Imagine if I just called Parks—said, I’m in love with you, let’s just… figure it out. I wish I was that guy. I’m not. I’m the guy in Raffles with a table littered with bottles and surrounded by girls I’ve never seen before. Mostly out-of-towners, I reckon—one of them, she’s been eyeing me since the second I sat down. Pale skin, brown hair, big blue eyes. She edges closer and closer to me over the course of the hour and I’m drinking more and more because that’s the sort of night this is. Once she’s next to me I work out she’s from Surrey. She speaks closer than necessary, but she’s just making her intentions known. Nice-looking girl, actually. Quite posh.

So, I’m dead surprised when Surrey stands up and pretty much gives me a lap dance in the middle of everything.

Not the first time this has happened, I’m hardly a monk. Just wasn’t expecting it from someone who smells so much like sherbet.

Jo gives me a wry look from his seat. Arse in my face, grinding, kissing my neck, kissing me, my eyes are closed, don’t really care that I’m in a club and people can see me, people have seen me before—and then someone’s hitting me.

Jonah. Jonah’s whacking me in the arm. I open my eyes and see past Surrey a blur of pink and realise that Parks decided to come after all.

Her mouth’s open. She’s gone pale.

“Fuck,” I say and shove the girl off me and that’s Magnolia’s hint to move.

She turns on her heel, hurrying through the crowd but I grab her arm, pulling her back to me.

I shake my head. “Parks—”

She shoves me off, eyes ragged. “Don’t touch me.”

“You said you weren’t coming—”

“Oh! Of course!” she calls loudly. “My mistake! Please do go on—”

“Parks.” I sigh, reaching for her.

She gets close to my face, looks me square in the eye, thumps me in the chest. “You disgust me.”