Starting From the Top (Starting from 5)

Today, he surprised us both.

“You should eat something real,” he chastised as he cracked eggs against the side of a bowl. “Coffee isn’t breakfast.”

I nodded. “True, but it wakes me up.”

“We studied about it in school yesterday. Breakfast replenishes stores of energy and nutrients to the body which make you more productive.”

I widened my eyes. That was two complete sentences. Wow. “You’re right. I’ll grab a chocolate croissant and a dozen donuts after I drop you off at school.”

“You wouldn’t!” Penny gasped theatrically. “Let’s go before school. I want a powder donut, please. And I won’t tell Mom.”

“He’s kidding, Pen. Dad’s a health freak.” Parker pulled a whisk from the drawer and set to work, beating the eggs. He looked up at me as if sensing my stare. “Am I doing this wrong?”

“No, you’re doing a great job,” I assured him. “What else did you learn about nutrition?”

“We weren’t really discussing nutrition. We’re talking about the digestive system in my anatomy class.”

“Ah, that’s interesting,” I replied, sounding like a real…dad.

For once, Parker didn’t mind. “It is. Did you know there are fourteen musculoskeletal systems in the human body? I have to build a model of the organs. It’s due next week.”

“Oh, cool.” All right. I knew I had to come up with something intelligent. The problem was, I didn’t have much practice conversing with a talkative Parker. This was new. “Let me know if you need any help. I was pretty good at building models in my day.”

Dad alert, Dad alert.

“Thanks. Johnny’s going to help. His friend Tegan has a workshop area in his garage. We’re going to start on it when he gets home. He’s going out of town this weekend. Do you want toast?” Parker asked, popping a piece of bread into the toaster.

“No, thanks,” I mumbled. Hmm. My boyfriend and my ex. This wasn’t complicated at all, I mused, sipping my coffee thoughtfully.

“I do!” Penny chimed. “Where’s Johnny going?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

“Oh. I’ll ask.” Penny typed a message into her phone, then pushed it aside and climbed onto her knees on the barstool. “You’re burning the eggs, Parker.”

“No, I’m not. They’re fine.”

“There’s smoke coming from the pan,” she insisted.

Lullah barked, Parker barked something at Penny, and a cell buzzed all at once.

“Penny, sit down,” I said.

“I have a message. Oh! It’s Johnny. He’s going to Palm Springs.” Penny whirled around on the stool, swiping strands of her blonde hair from her eyes as she leveled me with a shocked yet pleased expression. “Like you! Are you going to see him?”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Uh, I don’t—um, maybe. I don’t know,” I stumbled.

“You should,” Penny enthused with a broad grin. “I wish we could go. Stupid school. We should do home school. Those kids get to go everywhere, whenever they want. They’re so lucky. I wish…”

I braved a glance in Parker’s direction and got the exact opposite reaction. He met my gaze for a split second before lowering his head as if dishing eggs onto two plates required his absolute concentration. Hurt and disappointment poured out of him in waves. If he were a small child, I would have scooped him in my arms and known exactly what to do to make things better. Now…I had no clue.

But I had to try.

“Parker, it’s not—”

“Not what?” he challenged, fixing me with a blank stare, daring me to lie to him…one more time.

Penny glanced between us, then pointed at the toaster. “It’s burning, Parker. Don’t worry. I like it a little crispy. Especially with strawberry jam. I like bagels to be softer. And I like it when the cream cheese isn’t too cold. It’s not as good when it comes straight out of the fridge and…”

Ah, here we go again.

Penny chattered nonstop on the way to school. I dropped her off first, hoping to get a word with Parker alone. He stiff-armed me for ten minutes, alternately staring out the window or answering questions in monosyllable tones. I might have imagined it, but I thought he sighed with relief when I pulled up to the corner. He gathered his backpack and curled his fingers around the handle like he was preparing to dive out of an Air Force helicopter during wartime.

“Parker, wait. Tell me what’s wrong,” I demanded in an even tone.

“Nothing.”

“Look, if it’s about Johnny or—”

“Why do you lie about him?” he snapped.

I jolted, taken aback by his anger. “I…I don’t lie. He’s my friend.”

He didn’t roll his eyes, but I got the message nonetheless. “W-we’re not dumb, you know. I know, but you d-don’t tell us anyt-thing.”

“That works both ways.” I gestured toward the posse of kids near the gate. “I know things change, and I know you don’t hang out with your friends anymore, but—”

“They’re not my friends,” he growled fiercely. “They suck. They’re mean jerks. They make fun of people and t-talk behind y-your b-back, and I’d rather be alone. They’re not my friends. I’m not doing the t-talent show. I’m n-not going to the dance t-tonight. It’s stupid and they’re stupid and…”