The Park—Part 1
The Park—Part 1
Chapter 1—Johnny's POV
"Whoa. How'd you find this place?"
"Keys to the school, courtesy of Pretty Boy Peter. You like the view?" she replied, wrapping her arms around my neck. I won't lie, I didn't mind kissing her, even if she was some psycho Degrassi chick. Something told me she was breaking down, the whole thing with Simpson and the rumors about the mountain retreat thing and the spring break thing. I don't wanna sound like some cliché or whatever, but she looked empty, like she was losing everything. I knew that look pretty well, like something was eating her up and spitting her out and she had no chance against it. Her friends were weirded out by some stupid thing or something, so when she grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs behind her, I figured she could use someone to talk to who didn't have any reason to treat her like a piece of glass. Turned out all she wanted was to kiss, although I still don't know who was kissing whom, not that it mattered. To be honest, she made more sense to me than most people. The roof was one thing, like the shortest hook-up I've ever had, but listening to her pretend to rant at the guy who messed her up was enough for me to tell she wasn't just some screwed up chick from the rival school. She was in hell and no one was listening to her scream. I know how she feels, after my best friend stabbed the mascot right in front of me and left him there. I wasn't stupid enough to stick around, but I started to wish I had when the digi-nerd best friend came after me for it, blaming me for the whole thing. I didn't stab him, it wasn't my fault my friend did, and it was his fault that he got killed when he wanted a war. But none of that is the point. None of that is why I'm currently standing on Darcy Edward's doorstep waiting for someone to open the door, trying to figure out how I'm going to get her to come out of there. When the door does open, it's her mom, and suddenly I understand why Darcy's hardly ever home anymore.
"Can I help you?" she snarls at me, her eyes wide. She looks like a bird. For a second I forget what I'm supposed to say.
"Hi..Mrs. Edwards, is Darcy home?" I ask, trying to sound like her perfect boyfriend. The bird eyes narrow.
"Johnny?" I hear Darcy's voice from behind her mom's concrete form. She sounds beyond confused.
"I..uh, wanted to talk, just for a minute," I say, nervous for some reason. "I won't keep you."
"Well, I'm sorry, Darcy isn't allowed to talk to anyone right now," her mom says sharply. Somehow I think Darcy finally spilled her guts about her night on the mountain.
"Back off, Mom," Darcy snaps, shoves past her, and suddenly I'm looking at the feisty chick that grabbed my hand and dragged me out to be alone, the same way she's doing now. Her mom shouts after us but we're running up the block, around the corner and disappearing into an empty park. Her hand feels cool in mine. I'm surprised it's still there since we've stopped running and we're safely away from the crazy bitch and too-perfect-once-a-street-racer-then-a-fake-drug-addict-but-still-perfect boyfriend. She's quietly staring at the ground while we walk.
"Hey, Phoenix," I finally murmur. She stiffens her shoulders for a moment but she doesn't look up.
"You called me Darcy back there," she says. Her voice sounds dead. "Didn't you mean Teacher's Pet?"
Well, I deserved that.
"Look, Darcy, I'm not a Degrassi guy, okay? I beat up the Degrassi kids because I needed something to do and they were asking for it."
"That's all?" she asks. I tighten my grip around her fingers. She looks me in the eye, and I remember when she looked at me the last time we were face-to-face. It makes me want to pull her closer, and it doesn't make any sense, but it does.
I stop. She staggers and faces me again. Reaching toward her I creep my other hand around hers slowly, praying I don't scare her off. She doesn't fight, and I feel relieved somehow.
"I'm messed up too, Darcy. Not like you, like what happened to you, but I still know what it's like to be torn up by somebody. All your friends act like you're gonna fall apart if they don't watch you and hold you together, but you're not helpless," I say all at once. She looks surprised.
"So, you don't think I'm crazy?" she asks pointedly. She's testing me. The chance is too perfect. She tries to duck away but I manage to place a kiss square on her forehead. She looks up at me with wide eyes. The words that come out of my mouth don't even sound like mine or my voice.
"Crazy?" I whisper. "No." I lean into her shoulder, letting go of her hand to grip around her arm.
"Beautiful?" I offer, kissing her jaw softly. She breathes softly.
"Nervous?" I kiss her forehead again and look her in the eyes. She looks pleading.
"Scared?" I can barely breathe as I get closer to her, holding the base of her skull with my hand to pull her closer to me.
"Yes," she replies, barely in a whisper, and finally my mouth is on hers and it's perfect. She returns it and I wrap her up in my arms. She clings to my sides, turning her head until the kiss starts to break. I stop and kiss below her ear, along her throat, and the whole time her grip gets more intense. Suddenly she pulls away, looks at me with these sharp eyes, like she's accusing me of something. It makes me feel cold.
"I have a boyfriend," she snaps. I tighten my grip on her, but carefully.
"I'm aware," I return her edge. She glares at me. I seize her mouth again, and this time she pushes at me. I hold her still and look her in the eyes.
"I don't plan to tell anyone, if you don't want me to," I reply.
Whatever I've said does something to her. She grabs at me and pulls me to her again. The kiss returns, and this time she stays.