“Damn it, Parrish,” she says, her voice fractured with hurt and frustration. She runs a hand over her face. “You want to go to school that badly? Then I'll be dropping you off and picking you up every day.”
“That's fine,” Parrish drawls, giving a small frown. He knows he’s pissed Tess off, and he’s sorry about it, but he has zero plans to back down.
“And,” she continues, letting her gaze sweep over me and Chasm. “If you plan on attending prom, I will be there as a chaperone.”
Parrish’s left brow quirks up at that, but I think he’s realized that he’s pushed his mother to her limit.
“You may also consider that Kwang-seon and Dakota might be interested in attending as a couple; you can take Kimber.” Tess pulls in a slow, deep breath to calm herself. “I’ll order the pizza and see you all downstairs shortly?”
“I am not taking Kimber,” Parrish growls out as Tess gives him a soft, sympathetic sort of look. It’s almost patronizing, that expression, and he knows it. “I’ll be going with my—”
“I’m not going,” Chasm says, leaning back on his hands and giving a loose shrug when our collective attention swings his way. He flashes a sultry smile that has Parrish narrowing his eyes at him. “You can take my girlfriend; I don’t mind.”
“Oh, Chasm,” Tess says, going soft all over again. She’s just too thrilled for Parrish to be home to maintain anything but a positive persona. “You can’t skip out on your junior prom; lifelong memories are made there.”
“Ehh, not really my scene,” Chas says, which is such a stupid, frustrating lie that I feel my face getting red. Tess’ mouth tightens up, but she must decide it’s not worth the effort and lifts her gaze back to Parrish.
“I’ll take you back to the doctor on Sunday for another evaluation; if she says you’re fit to attend class then … then I’m fine with it.” She retreats down the hall, leaving the door wide open behind her.
“You’re not going to prom, Chas?” Parrish asks, his voice a devil-may-care breeze that’s total bullshit. He’s mad. “Why not?”
“You think I give a fuck about stuffy Whitehall parties?” Chasm asks, rising to his feet with his iPad tucked under his arm. “I basically just went to prom last night—it was the adult version of it anyway. Same Medina bullshit, different locale, different people. I’m not interested in attending a dance with a bunch of assholes who beat up Dakota and chase us with utility knives.”
Chasm pauses as Parrish studies him carefully, like he can sense that there’s so much more to this than what his friend is saying with words. After a minute, Chas sighs and tosses his iPad on the bed, reaching up to scrub at his face with both hands.
“I fucking … I missed you,” he says, dropping his hands and staring at Parrish with undisguised emotion in his face. “Truly, fuck prom. Prom is nothing.” He gestures between the two of them with a single finger as X looks on from the desk chair, and I try to turn invisible. True bromance right here. “This? This is everything.”
Parrish puts his arms around Chas, and they hug each other so tight that tears come to my eyes.
Maxx surreptitiously grabs his laptop and slips past them.
“Let’s head downstairs and give them a minute,” he suggests, but as soon as we start to leave, Parrish notices.
“No. You’re not getting out of my sight again,” he says, looking over his shoulder at us. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Me?” I quip, but like, obviously me. Maxx snorts, laptop tucked beneath his arm.
“Naekkeo, you’re not that dense, are you?” Chasm teases, and then goes completely still as Parrish turns back to look at him. “Shit.”
“Shit is right,” Parrish purrs, reaching up to play with the sleeve of Chasm’s t-shirt. “Naekkeo, really?”
Chasm is not anyone’s pet, nor does he submit easily, but here, in this dynamic, I see why Parrish is the Prince of Sloths and his bestie is the knight. I also see why everyone at Whitehall keeps acting like they can do whatever they want without Parrish around: he is absolutely in charge of this dynamic and every other.
No wonder we clashed so hard at first.
No wonder I hated the guy so much.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said that Dakota is mine for the week—at least. But I’m not letting you skip prom.” Parrish gives the t-shirt sleeve a yank and then turns around to look at me. “He asked you, didn’t he? To prom?”
I’m not even sure how to respond to that, so I flick my gaze over to Chasm, and he sighs.
“I did. I knew it was fucked-up, but I also had no idea when we’d find you. I just figured …”
“That you’d find a sickly-sweet pet name for my girlfriend and take her to prom?” Parrish growls out a frustrated sound and rubs at his forehead with two fingers. “I don’t feel at all left out or abandoned.”
