Dear Fitzy,

Today I’ve been gone 147 days.

I know I haven’t written in a while. I don’t have much to say other than without Sarah—without someone to remind me I matter—I’ve realized maybe I’m where I belong. Maybe I’ll be better one day.

I wonder if you’ll like the new me.

Maybe you’ll never know her.

Rebels Only.

Parker

Chapter 34

“Hi,” Parker says, slipping off her sneakers and low cut socks. The door shuts behind her.

I take another drink, reaching for a puzzle piece, trying to ignore Parker’s red-painted toenails that appear out of the corner of my eye.

“Almost finished?” she asks.

Abandoning the puzzle, I rise from the couch. “Left the rest for you.”

Parker sighs as I walk past, halfway to the stairs. “Fitz. Can we please talk?”

I stop, gripping the glass. Turning, I hold my free arm out. “I’ve said everything already. Everything. And you haven’t.”

“That’s not fair and you know it.” Parker drapes my letterman jacket over the back of the chair across from the couch.

“Yeah, well, life isn’t fair sometimes. It doesn’t always have to be difficult though. But I’m not the one making it that way, Parker. You are.”

Parker cowers and fuck me, I’m an asshole. I’m a lovesick, head over heels, asshole for it.

She takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I hate that I ruined the night when it meant something to you.”

“That’s what you don’t get, Parker. You. You mean something to me. You’re what”—I pause, rubbing my temple with my free hand—“I don’t know who you think I am. But I’m not like them. I’m not like your family who doesn’t give a shit about you or where you are except when they need you.”

“I know.”

I put my glass down on the coffee table and tilt up her chin. “I don’t think you do. I also don’t think you have the slightest clue about how I feel—how I’ve felt—about you. Because if you did, you probably wouldn’t be here right now. You probably would’ve left and gone who knows where.”

Part of me wants to soften the grip I now have on her chin. But I’m angry. I’m fed up.