Chapter 24
Draw Back Your Bow
February 14, 2006
Tuesday afternoon
Josh hated Valentine's Day. The prospect of facing all of Garfield High and their stupid
Candygram tradition made him get a rash on his stomach and inner thigh. He didn't
have to worry about anyone seeing his condition. On gym days he'd wear his outer
shorts and t-shirt over his regular clothes so he wouldn't have to change in front of the
jocks, a group of which he could never be a part of now. He supposed he could've sent
one grape Charms lollipop to himself. But they would have known. Especially since all
of the popular kids were on the Candygram committee and those that weren't would just
spread the news faster around the school than an arsonist setting a wildfire. Both he
and Harold 'nose picker' Zuckerman would be the only ones in the whole school
including the Freshmen to get zero—ZERO tokens of teenage love, lust, and/or
friendship. Take your pick they were just pieces of paper attached to lollipops that in the
bigger worldview really didn't matter. This kind of perplexing 'Oh my God, they don't like
me. I must fix it!' thought only carried sleepless nights while you were in high school.
When you get older you could really give a rat's ass regarding who likes and you who
doesn't. During a person's school years it could make or break your world and Josh
Nichols' world was broken when he tried to take Mindy Crenshaw at Campland last
year. He had to live with what his life was. Josh was lonely. He didn't relate with his
father much now that he was growing up, his relationship with Audrey was really just on
polite terms but gone were the days when they could quote movies and spend quality
time with each other. She was stubborn (wonder where Drake gets it from?) over his
wanting to spend time with his biological Mother and he doubted that they would ever
fully recover. Megan didn't really take the time to play pranks on him anymore. She was
always going to side with her real brother. Which lead his thoughts to Drake. He missed
him and at the same time loathed him. They were better off apart. Josh could just picture
the goings-on at Belleview which made him write 'I hate Drake' on the inside of his
black and white composition notebook in dark blue ink when he was supposed to be
writing science notes. He heard some breakfast table mumblings today over His
Drakeness buying Torey some fancy chocolates in a heart shaped box. Goody goody
gumdrops.
Josh believed that Drake didn't deserve to be happy.
Mindy was quite popular with the basketball star Seth Greenwood. Even though he was
6'2", Josh still thought he could take him. He had the new habit of crossing the days off
in his pocket sized calendar with a big red inked 'X" as each day passed.
Josh Nichols although he'd never directly or otherwise commit suicide ever again, it
didn't stop his thought process from wishing that he were dead.
Drake sat on the ground level stairwell on the gray stairs waiting for Torey's Honor
Society meeting to be over with. He was reading one of his guitar magazines wishing
he could be one of the people interviewed or better yet one of the ads that would feature
him proudly holding the Drake Parker Custom Guitar. Things were going along
smoothly. Torey wore her engagement ring to school. If Torey had made a big deal
about having to take the ring on and off in front of others the school skank club or some
other nosy busybody including a teacher could tell their parents. This made it seem like
it was all in the open.
"Hey, handsome, what are you reading?"
Drake closed the magazine on his lap and looked up at Torey with sparkling eyes.
"Guitar Player. Close your eyes."
"Drake…"
"Ssh," he led her to the stairwell so that she could sit next to him. "I got you a little
something."
He handed her a small red heart shaped box.
"Chocolates….and the box is open." Torey laughed
"I had to have one caramel." He pretended to pout for opening her present knowing full
well Torey would find it cute.
"Thank you, Drake," she kissed him on the lips, "This was sweet of you. The pun was
intended."
"No problem, babe. I also got you this," He took a square shaped object that was
wrapped in pastel pink colored wrapping paper, "Happy Valentine's Day."
"You shouldn't have." She almost didn't want to touch the perfectly wrapped present.
"I wanted to."
The book was pink and white and matched the tones of the wrapping paper. Torey felt a
lump in her throat, as she was always a sucker for the sentimental.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning: Selected Poems."Drake, you don't know how much…I," She wrapped her arms around him and pulled
him towards her as close as they could be for sitting on a stairwell at Belleview High.
"I bet you didn't think I noticed. But I notice lots of things." He kissed her on the neck. He
could smell her Perhaps perfume. Torey wore it everyday and it drove Drake wild
everyday.
"I love you, Mr. Parker."
He raised her left hand, "And I love you the future Mrs. Parker. How did your meeting
go?"
"It was boring. I just wanted to be with you," She looked at her watch, "I guess we better
go. I have to start work in a half hour."
"Me too. But don't eat too much on your break because you have another surprise
coming up."
This was the first time in his life that Drake ever made formal dinner reservations. Well
when he was three he did help Peter on the phone plan for his parent's anniversary
dinner.
Torey did put a garment bag in his car so she could make a quick change at work when
Drake picked her up. She knew they were going out to eat, but he wouldn't say where
just that they needed to dress up for the occasion.
They had eight o'clock reservations at Calienti a nice Mexican restaurant in the city.
If they were moving too fast only one of them was aware of it. Just like that driver in a
speeding car on the Pacific Highway that is racing off the charts to nowhere only to wind
up in dead in their very own twisted metal creation.
Moving slow was not in Drake Parker's vocabulary but there was going to be a time in
the not so distant future that he was going to wish with all of his might that he had taken
the slow road to bliss instead of the fast track to derailment.
The Soul's Expression
By Elizabeth Barret Browning
With stammering lips and insufficient sound
I strive and struggle to deliver right
That music of my nature, day and night
With dream and thought and feeling interwound
And inly answering all the senses round
With octaves of a mystic depth and height
Which step out grandly to the infinite
From the dark edges of the sensual ground.
This song of soul I struggle to outbear
through portals of the sense, sublime and whole,
and utter all myself into the air:
But if I did it--as the thunder-roll
Breaks its own cloud, my flesh would perish there,
before that dread apocalypse of soul.