I just hoped Parker would forgive me at the end of all of this when he found out who I really was, because I realized now, I wanted his forgiveness.
I cared what he thought of me.
12. Meeting the L33t
“Mom, you said I’m grounded from parties and this isn’t a party,” I whined the Saturday night after my Valentine’s Day “date” with Parker.
“Reagan, there’s absolutely no way I’m letting you go to a concert alone,” my mom replied, not even bothering to look at me as she cut up some carrots and tossed them into a pot. Apparently in her mind, this discussion was over way before it started.
“But she’ll only be in town one night and I have to go see her!” I protested.
“If she’s so famous, why is she playing in Albany?”
“Well . . . ” I began, letting my words trail off.
“Reagan,” my mom said in her best warning voice.
“Okay, fine, she’s playing in Portland,” I admitted, knowing that now there was no way she’d let me go.
“Portland?” my mom asked in a voice much too calm for what I had just told her. “When is the concert again?”
“It starts in like three hours, and Portland is an hour and a half away, so I have to leave soon,” I said urgently, spotting her moment of weakness like the epic hunter I was.
One last ranged attack and I could bring her down like a boss.
“Your father and I actually did need to go to Portland to visit your aunt,” she began slowly.
I could tell where this was going, and suddenly I didn’t like it one bit.
“Oh no you don’t,” I said instantly as Cannon walked into the kitchen covered in baking soda.
We didn’t even bother to ask about his appearance. Chances were he was finding a solution to world hunger and it was better to let him go about his business.
“You are not dropping me off at the concert! Do you have any idea how embarrassing that would be?”
“Would it be more embarrassing than not going at all because you were too proud to let your mom drop you off?” she countered.
Oh, she was good.
I narrowed my eyes at her for a moment while Cannon stood nearby and watched the whole exchange in wonder. I’m sure it looked something like a standoff in the old west. The question was, who would draw first?
“Drop me off three blocks away?” I offered seriously.
“Around the corner,” she said.
“Deal.”
“Honey, change of plans, we’re going to see my sister tonight,” Mom yelled up the stairs, grabbing the pot she had been filling with vegetables and throwing it in the fridge without covering it.
“We’re going to see Aunt Shawna?” Cannon asked in excitement.
She was our cool aunt, so naturally we were always excited to see her. I was almost sad that I wouldn’t actually get to spend time with her until I reminded myself that I was going to the best concert ever.
That was a pretty good consolation prize.
“And why is that?” my dad called from his office upstairs.
“Your daughter tricked me into letting her go to a lightening concert,” Mom called back.
“Lights, Mom! Her name is Lights,” I said in exasperation.
“Who names their child Lights?” my mom asked, more to herself than to me.
“She’s the one you like because she’s queen of the nerds, right?” Cannon asked.
“Cannon, that’s not very nice,” my mom reprimanded.
“Reagan said it first,” he protested.
“Being queen of the nerds is a good thing, Mom,” I informed her as I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and ran up to my room to change.
It was kind of nice that I hadn’t talked to Tawny in a few days because I was “grounded.” That meant my Saturday night was free. I’m sure she was fine with the development, since it meant she had more time to spend with my ex-boyfriend.
Lovely.
I’d never ask her to go to a Lights concert with me anyway. She’d totally ruin the whole thing by making fun of everyone in their gaming shirts and neon headbands, and I just couldn’t have that, now could I? I’d much rather go alone than run the risk of seeing my favorite singer with the devil.
I slipped on my black skinny jeans, pulled my hair into a messy ponytail (because it would undoubtedly be 100 degrees in the crowded venue) and dug around in my underwear drawer until I found my Voyager’s Quest shirt.
It was the only one I owned, because the way I saw it, the less nerd paraphernalia I owned, the less likely it was that someone would discover it and ask all sorts of questions that would reveal my inner dork. And so I was forced to hide my nerd memorabilia in my underwear drawer like it was something much worse than a gaming shirt.
It actually happened to be the same shirt Parker was wearing the first time I’d seen him, although mine was a fitted girl’s shirt and not a giant tent like Parker’s.
Wasting no time and hoping my parents could get ready as fast as I could, I slapped on some lip gloss and ran down the stairs calling, “I’m in the car,” even though I totally wasn’t.
+++
It was a little sad going to a concert alone, but you never really felt alone surrounded by hundreds of people. Plus, Lights fans were incredibly connected online, so all I had to do was open up Twitter on my phone to see everyone talking about the concert I was currently attending.
Lights, as my little brother had so kindly repeated, was kind of the queen of the nerds, but it was totally in a good way.
She was this awesome, beautiful girl who could sing like an angel, yet she played video games and read comic books and collected toy weapons. She was pretty much living the life I wanted to live, but she was making it look much cooler than it would have been at my school.
Being a “cool nerd” didn’t really translate well in high school. In fact, I was pretty sure that such a thing didn’t exist until you got into college and people stopped caring so much about what everyone else thought.
So, as I stood by myself in the lobby of the venue after the show pretending to be looking at merchandise but totally killing time to see if Lights would come out and meet her fans like she usually did, I wondered how Parker went through life not caring what other people thought about him.
I guess he had to care at least a little bit. No matter what people said, you always cared what someone else thought of you, even if that “caring” was simply, “Well, that’s annoying that they think that, but I don’t care.”
As weak as I always thought I was, I bet I could stick it to Tawny and finish off my last year of high school without my fake popularity to shield me. Really, how hard could it be?
“You like Lights?” Parker said beside me, making me jump about a foot in the air.
It wasn’t like the venue was really all that quiet, though it was quickly emptying out and the security guards were starting to give me “the look.” Mainly I just jumped any time I heard him now because my brain would quickly have to figure out if I was around anyone I needed to seem cool for or not.
The double life was getting exhausting.
“Oh, hi,” I said nervously, not sure if Parker hated me because I “didn’t have a backbone,” as he put it, or if he was still on his “I can save her from herself” kick.
“Yeah, I like Lights.”
I tried not to sound defensive as I said it, but somehow it didn’t work.
“Huh,” was all he managed to say, rubbing the back of his neck and having some internal debate. “You know she’s a little bit of a dork, right?” he asked finally.
“She is so not a dork,” I quickly told him, coming to the defense of my favorite singer even though I had called her queen of the nerds only a few hours earlier.
“I love how you instantly assumed I meant that as an insult,” he said, almost grinning and sounding like he did when he joked around with me over chat.
I was silent for a moment, not really sure how to respo
nd to that accusation. Honestly, I was a bit off-balance seeing Parker here. I hadn’t mentally prepared myself for what I’d do the next time I saw him because I thought I’d have more time before The Squad's next attack on him.
But thanks to my lack of preparation, there I stood, silently, being more socially awkward than the boy who was supposed to be the nerdy one out of the pair of us.
“So, are you going to buy something?” I asked finally, nodding at the merch table full of shirts, CDs, and mini “Lights Sabers.”
“No, I’m just killing time until she comes out to meet people,” he said with a smile, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially. “You?”
“Same,” I responded, still uneasy about the whole situation.
“You look different in normal clothes,” he said, looking me up and down.
I suddenly realized in a panic that I was wearing my Voyager’s Quest shirt under my zip-up hoodie. Trying to be as subtle as I could, I slowly zipped the hoodie up to my neck so he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of the Voyager’s Quest logo and ask questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be creepy,” he quickly amended, misreading my “hurry up and cover your nerd shirt” zip as a “stop looking at me, you creeper” zip. “I was just saying you don’t look nearly as . . . intimidating in normal clothes. It’s kind of nice.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, looking down at my jeans and tennis shoes that Tawny would probably disown me for wearing and pulling at the zipper on my sweater one last time to ensure that none of my nerd was showing.
The crowd was quickly thinning out and it was becoming pretty obvious that we weren’t standing at the merchandise table to buy anything. The way the security guard glanced over at the two of us every few seconds told me that I needed to think of some good reason to stay behind, and quick.
“How long before that guy kicks us out, do you think?” I asked Parker, nodding to the security guard and quickly looking away when he made eye contact with me. Oh yeah, he definitely knew what we were up to.
“About ten steps,” Parker responded.
“Huh?”
“He’s on his way over,” he clarified, looking at the ground as well and trying to act nonchalant.
He was failing miserably, in case you were wondering.
“Come with me,” I whispered, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him through the quickly thinning crowd over to the girl’s bathroom. He pulled back instantly when he saw where I was taking him, trying to wriggle his scrawny wrist out of my iron grip.
“I can’t go in there,” he said in horror, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in shock.
“Do you want to meet Lights or not?” I asked. “Stop being such a baby.”
And with that, I forced him to enter the small, dingy girl’s bathroom with me, which was, luckily, empty.
“Get in there and shut up,” I said, pushing him into a stall and locking the door behind us.
The stall was undeniably cramped and unless Parker was willing to sit on the toilet (doubtful), we would have to stand there in silence, pressed right against each other. I pretended to be listening for the security guard, but all I was really doing was replaying our kiss in my head over and over again and hoping he couldn’t feel my heart racing. Parker swallowed loudly and looked around at everything but me.
“So, first the closet and now this, huh?” he asked. “If you wanted to get me alone, you could have just said so.”
A joke.
He had actually made a joke.
It was just like we were talking over guild chat, except for the obvious differences—like us being smashed together trying not to look at one another.
“I just couldn’t resist an opportunity to get you alone again,” I deadpanned, hoping he’d read my sarcasm and drop the subject.
“Hey Reagan?” he began, right as the bathroom door opened and a very un-girly figure strode inside.
I never thought I’d be so happy to get kicked out of a bathroom, but seeing as how it saved me from a very awkward conversation, I was grinning from ear to ear when the security guard told us the bathroom “wasn’t a hotel” and escorted us out of the building forcefully.
“Well, that was a bust,” I said, kicking at a rock in the parking lot and wondering if I should phone my parents to come pick me up and call it a night.
“Yeah, that was pretty lame,” he agreed in an odd voice. “If meeting Lights is something you don’t really want to do,” he finished with a triumphant smile.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, following his line of sight to a small group of people in the parking lot who were excitedly chatting with the singer. “Oh. My. Gosh. That’s her!” I said breathlessly, hitting Parker on the arm much harder than I had intended to.
“Ouch,” he said involuntarily, clutching at his arm and laughing. “You’re strong.”
“I’m a cheerleader.” I shrugged modestly. “Have to be strong.”
“So, what do you say? Do you want to go meet her?” he asked, as if he even needed to.
“Let’s go,” I replied excitedly, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the crowd.
I quickly released Parker when we reached our destination, although it wasn’t because I wanted to. It was because I’d reminded myself that I’d probably have to hurt Parker in order to exact my revenge on Tawny, and getting close to him now wouldn’t do me any favors. It would make hurting him that much more difficult when it came time to do what needed to be done.
We could hear fans talking to Lights about different video games and giving her nerd gifts, and suddenly I wished I could unzip my hoodie and show her the shirt I had worn just for the concert. Of course, that would be like shrugging off the cheerleader disguise I’d been wearing for three years right before completing my quest. I couldn’t get the experience points if I didn’t finish the quest and knock Tawny off her pedestal.
I had to keep the disguise on for at least a little while longer.
When we finally made our way to the front of the crowd and I got myself to stop gushing over Lights like the fangirl I was, I asked Parker to take a picture, wanting to remember this night forever.
“I can take the picture so you and your boyfriend can both be in it,” one of the fans said, grabbing my phone from Parker’s hand and shoving him over to where Lights and I stood.
Parker and I both opened our mouths to protest but were instantly cut off by the girl’s countdown. Instead, I glanced over at Parker and shrugged before smiling at the camera as the flash went off.
“Thanks,” I said to the girl. “And thank you, you’re amazing!” I said over my shoulder to Lights as we were moved through the small crowd of people to the back of the group once more.
“Sorry I’m in your picture,” Parker said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
Apparently that was his go-to gesture when he was uncomfortable.
“It’s fine. We didn’t really have a choice anyway,” I said with a shrug as I typed my mom’s number into my phone. “Hold on, I need to call my mom to come pick me up,” I told him, feeling completely lame even as I said it.
“I can give you a ride if you need me to,” he offered, just as my mom picked up.
“Reagan? Are you ready to go?” she asked.
I was silent as I thought about Parker’s offer. It would be nice to spend more time with him, but I knew he’d try to bring up our kiss again and I couldn’t have that. Not if I was going to go back to being mean to him on Monday.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I told her. “See you soon, Mom,” I said before hanging up. “Thanks for the offer, but my mom is kind of weird about me being in the city alone, so she insisted she come get me.”
“That’s understandable,” he said. “I can hang out here until she comes if you want so you’re not in a dark parking lot in the city at night . . . you know . . . alone?”
“Thanks. That’s really nice, considering how awful I am to you,” I said, a certain amount of r
esignation in my voice.
“You’re not that bad. Just kind of awful,” he joked.
“Thanks a lot,” I replied with a roll of my eyes.
“Hey, can you send me a copy of that picture?” he asked suddenly.
I looked over at him hesitantly. What if he showed his friends and the word somehow got back to Tawny that I had spent my Saturday night with the boy she was trying to ruin? That definitely wouldn’t go over too well.
“I’m not going to go around telling people we’re dating or something; it was just exciting to meet Lights,” he said, looking slightly annoyed that I apparently thought so highly of myself.
“I didn’t think you would,” I answered. “I just don’t want Tawny to know we hung out.”
“Right, because that would be the worst thing you could possibly do, right?” he asked. “Hanging out with me is worse than death.”
“You don’t get it, Parker. If I don’t have The Squad, then I don’t have anything. You think it’s bad for you? Imagine being their target after being one of them. They wouldn’t come after me like I was some normal loser—they’d come after me with a vengeance because I turned my back on them,” I said adamantly.
“What are you even talking about?” he asked incredulously. “If you don’t like them, why do you hang out with them?”
“I just told you,” I said, annoyed that he apparently wasn’t listening. “And I never said I didn’t like them,” I quickly amended, realizing we were treading on some very “real” ground. I didn’t want to let Parker in on my hate of The Squad.
“Honestly Reagan? That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard. What could they possibly do to you that would be so horrible?”
Frame me and get me arrested for something I didn’t do, I thought, wishing I had never voiced my idea for the junior varsity hazing. I didn’t think I could live with myself if Parker got arrested for something I had thought of.
“That’s what I thought,” he said when I didn’t answer.
He was mistaking my silence for a lack of an answer when really, I didn’t want to tell him exactly how awful The Squad could really be.