The Love That Is Parker Bowmen

00| Cliché

Emily Rose

I know it's cliche. Trust me, I know.

But isn't life fucking cliche? You fall in love with the one person you never thought you would...

It just hits you like a train. A large 'fuck you, here comes pain' train that takes everything from you; your mind, your soul, your heart.

Unfortunately for me that train came from no one other than my best friend, Parker Bowmen.

I was stuck at one of those cheesy ass frat parties with the large disco ball and colorful blinding lights. The music was so loud that if you got too close to one of the speakers you would go permanently deaf, but isn't that the fun of a party like this?

The room smelt like sweaty gym socks and dirty underwear, but I think that's what happens when you room a bunch of 21 year old boys, who have no cleaning skills, in one big house together without any supervision.

Truly I'm not supposed to be here, I'm supposed to be an hour and a half away in my dorm room at Boulder University, studying for a big final I have on Tuesday. But instead I decided to drive here to Colorado College, for the weekend, to hangout with my best friend in the whole world and the possible love of my life, Parker.

He dragged me to this party and left me to go flirt with a couple of bimbos on the dance floor.

He's wearing his "let's fuck" smirk, which gets every girl, even me. The dimples in his cheeks seemed to appear, adding to his appeal. He ran his hands through his dark brown hair as he laughed at something one of the girls had said. His brown eyes were lit up, excitement sparks in them.

Parker's eyes only shine like that if he's really happy or he knows that he's about to get laid.

I felt my grip on the red solo cup in my hand tighten.

Okay, so I'm not a total fucking idiot, I know that Parker is off limits; he's my best friend and plus he'll never go for someone like me.

The girl who would rather wear a simple t-shirt and jeans to a party than a sexy, tight fitting outfit. The girl who's nails have never met a manicure in their life. And the girl who can't apply single swipe of makeup if her life depended on it.

Well damn, no wonder why I'm a virgin.

One of the bimbos began to grind her hips onto Parker and he's loving it. His hands go to her hips and his proud smirk gets bigger. The girl throws her head back in laughter and I could feel myself about to throw up.

I can't... can't do this anymore.

I've tried to be the good friend and watch. To encourage him, but it's too hard... my resolve is slowly breaking.

So I leave the room, navigating my way through the crowd of people to the nearest door I come to.

I open the door and walk through it. It seems to be a small bathroom.

I turn towards the door and lock it before placing my solo cup on the counter and turning towards the mirror above the sink in front of me.

I look at my reflection. My long, wavy, dark brown hair fell down my shoulders. My skin was a pale sickly white, I had freckles crowded around my nose and cheeks. There was nothing special about me, I was regular, plain, ordinary. Parker would never go for me.

Ugh!

I turned on the sink faucet and cupped my hands together like a basket, letting the water fill up in my hands before splashing it on my face.