Dear Whoever,

             I am writing this so I don’t forget him. I can’t forget him. The story I’m telling you is the story that changed me. It starts in 2007. I was just starting the 3^rd grade at a different school and I was really nervous because I was starting late in October. Everyone had already made his or her own friends. I was weird, and I wasn’t really good in social situations. I remember walking into Mrs. White’s class as she stood me in front of the class and made me introduce myself.

        “H-hello.” I managed enough courage to stutter out.

       The sea of bloodthirsty children looked at me with big, blank doe eyes.

        “I’m Damien and I love soccer and Legos.”  I said with as much conviction as I could possibly be capable of, but the kids just looked at me and laughed. The expressions on their face told me that I had just messed up my one first impression. My heavy heart was too much for my little schoolboy chest to maintain as it rolled across the room. I had just made such an ass of myself. Everyone is going to call me the weird kid. Why couldn’t I be like everyone else? Mrs. White ushered me to my cold, blue plastic chair placed next to a girl who had bright blue eyes and horrible teeth. The first half of my day consisted of me being the “new kid freak-show” so I kept my head down on my desk. I didn’t talk to anyone and I didn’t dare lift my head to see the kids pointing and laughing.

        At noon, Mrs. White took us to the playground for recess. She told me I wasn’t allowed to stay inside so I walked in the blur of white polo and khaki to the blacktop. A group of girls were swinging and singing their boy band songs. A few boys were playing soccer; I would’ve joined if I weren’t so shy or so scared. I wondered over to the shiny red monkey bars situated near the gates towards the back of the playground. I climbed all the way up to the top before I realized I was being followed. A boy with shaggy blonde hair and deep brown eyes was one bar over from me.

      “Hi.” I said questioningly.

       “Hello, I’m Parker Erie. I’m in your class. I like soccer too.” He leaned as far over as the red, puffy jacket he was wearing allowed him to and put his hand out confidently for me to shake. His skin was smooth I liked that. He had deep brown eyes and a welcoming smile of crooked teeth and in that moment I knew I felt something that wasn’t supposed to be right.

    “I’m Damien Harrington.” I said with a smile. After that it was easy. We sat on the monkey bars all of recess and talked. He told me about his family and how he lived in a house with them in Ohio. He told me he had a dog-called Maxine and his favorite show was SpongeBob Squarepants. He would talk and talk and I would listen and look into those coffee colored eyes and wonder what it would be like to hold his hand. I didn’t know then why being with him would make me feel so warm and happy, but I know now. I hung out with Parker everyday at school, and on the weekends we met at his house to play soccer and Guitar Hero. I began opening up to him and telling him the reason I left my old school was because they all called me “gay” and “fag” because I said that I thought Cody from The Suite Life of Zack and Cody was cute.

    “I went home crying every night and I had no idea why. I didn’t know what those words meant until my dad t-told me.” I stuttered one afternoon at my house. We sat side by side on my bed as he stretched his hand across and held it. I never felt anything like that touch before. It was a touch that meant something more. It was electric. I loved it and I loved him.

    “There is nothing wrong with you. You are perfect.” Parker’s adolescent voice rang in my ears.

Without thinking I leaned over to him and kissed him. His smooth lips tasted like Jolly Ranchers and the hope that I could be loved. I remember this part in this most detail: all at once Parker pulled away from our sweet and innocent kiss and the door to my room flew open as my dad walked in.  All signs of hope with Parker shattered.

  “Damien what are you doing?”  My father demanded. He walked powerfully across the room and grabbed me by the back of my shirt lifting me off the bed. Parker shot up immediately, his chocolate eyes full of worry and fear that my dad would beat me.

   “Damien’s dad we weren’t doing anything!” Parker exclaimed, his face wet with tears. My dad looked at Parker with glare that could cut diamonds.

  “Parker go tell Damien’s mom to take you home now.” His voice full of cruelty and disgust over the fact that two young boys had kissed. Parker looked at me as if he was waiting for me to stand up for myself. My mouth was dry. I couldn’t say anything. I mouthed, “go” to him and he looked at me as if it would be the last time. Parker slowly left the room as quiet sobs escaped him. I don’t remember much after that. My dad sat me on the bed and told me something similar to “that is not right” and “you have ruined our family’s reputation.” I didn’t understand half of the words he was telling me so I just sat there and cried. After a whole weekend of crying and my dad pacing around the house trying to decide what to do with me, he pulled me out of school. My heart broke as he said the words, “You will never see that boy again, do you understand?” I nodded my head quickly then ran to the bathroom and locked the door. I sat in the bathtub for hours and cried. I knew my dad was serious and I knew that I’d never see Parker again.

 Over the next few years I bounced around from school to school to homeschooling, but never back to Parker. I thought he had moved on and forgotten about me until 2012. I was doing my homework at the kitchen table one night when my phone buzzed. Two notifications flashed onto the small black screen.

   They read: 

       PARKER ERIE (@p_erie23) FOLLOWED YOU ON INSTAGRAM

       @p_erie23 LIKED YOUR PICTURE

My heart rose into my throat and became so heavy that it caused my mouth to drop. Parker remembered me. He remembered us.  After the realization that Parker still noticed me and the fact that my dad was out of town on business for a few weeks, I thought it was the perfect time to ask my mom if I could reenroll into Parker’s middle school.  I told her how much I missed my friends and how even after all this time they missed me (even if that was a lie). It took some convincing, but she finally let me go.

  “Damien, do not tell your father about this. I will tell him when he gets back from Indianapolis.” My mother said to me as her half smile told me that she was excited to see me go back to school. She has always been so much more understanding than my father.

 The first week back with Parker was amazing. He sat with me and talked to me. He introduced me to his friends and his “girlfriend” Melissa. I didn’t understand why Parker was with her. Why couldn’t he be with me? She was pretty in a conventional why I guessed. She had a tiny body with beady brown eyes that were much to close together. Her sleek brown hair was streaked with horrible, fake blonde color and even now I’m still trying to understand why she thought that was a good idea. I sat across from them at lunch one day when she kissed Parker’s cheek. His body shuddered uncomfortably as he exclaimed, “Melissa not here.” I smirked a coy smile in his direction because I knew our little secret.

     I was taken out of the 8^th grade 2 weeks after I had enrolled. My father came back and exploded on my mom when she told him.

     “How could you possibly do this without consulting me first Samantha, huh?” I heard him scream from my room.

    “I thought I was helping him. He didn’t have anyone, Mike. So don’t “huh” me. He is my only son and I will do everything in my power to make him happy.” She retorted even louder than my dad.

  My mom couldn’t convince my dad to let me go back to school, so I was homeschool for the next year and a half. The days went on like they did the first time, except they hurt more. Parker was out living his life with his friends and his Melissa. He probably never even thought of me. God, how could I have been so ignorant as to believe he still felt the way he did when we were 8? I needed to get out of my head, but I didn’t know how. My house was just my mom and I most of the time and dad was enemy #1 to both of us. It took her a year before she could get the balls to ask him for a divorce. She told him that she could never love a man who didn’t love his son. He told her that he had been having an affair with a woman in Indianapolis and that he loved her. Her name was Alice. They married the next year, but mom and I didn’t go.

  The settlement took some time but once everything was okay, I asked my mom one thing:

     “Can I please go to a real high school?”

   She laughed at me with tears beading up in her eyes.

      “Where else would you go?” She smiled her beautiful smile and hugged me close.

 I enrolled as a sophomore in St. Paul’s High School in downtown Huntsville. Mom and I had just gotten an apartment a few blocks away. Parker and I had been texting about this soccer season and I was really excited to see him. It had been about a year since him and Melissa, but he told me that they broke amicably in the spring. Everything was going really well for me.

  One spring day in journalism (the one class Parker and I actually had together), our teacher, Mr. Medinas, announced that he would be taking a few of his students to West Virginia University for a journalism conference where we would learn how to “perfect the written word” and “ask the hard-hitting questions”, but all I heard was “road trip with Parker.” The following weeks I spent turning in my assignments for Mr. Medinas one day before they were all due, and begging Parker to try and go on the trip too. It would be a lot of fun to just hang out with him. Not only was I completely infatuated with Parker, but also he was my best friend and I really wanted a friend to go on this trip with me.

   About a month after Mr. Medinas told the class about the trip he posted the people he was planning on taking on the corkboard in the back of the room. My eyes read quickly with anticipation:

MARGARET KELLEY

TINA HOLMES

PARKER EERIE

SUMMER GOLDSTEIN

DAMIEN HARRINGTON

MAX FLETCHER

EMILY FERGUSON

  My heart leapt out of my body and threw me across the room to Parker.

   “We got in! We get to go!” I was practically singing.

   “Okay Damien, calm down… We got in!” Parker began smiling almost as big as I was. I had a feeling that this trip could be something really wonderful for us.

  A week later, our bags were packed and we were ready to go to WVU. We took two separate cars. One belonging to Mr. Medinas, who insisted we use his first name, Dale, and the other belonging to Mrs. McCartney. Dale took Margaret, Max, Emily, and Summer while Parker, Tina, and I rode with Mrs. McCartney. Tina insisted on taking the front so Parker and I hopped into the spacious back seat of the Honda Pilot. The car smelt like an old pine tree had been shoved inside of it for months, but it was oddly comforting. Parker pulled out his headphones and a double-plug headphone jack so we could listen to the same music. Parker loved being in control things, especially music. I plugged my headphones in and a song by Drake came on, I reached for the phone to change it at the same time Parker did. Our pinkies grazed slightly. It was only the lightest touch but something about it, something about him, sent lightening through my body. Parker let a quiet sigh escape his lips, something he did when he was nervous. I reached the rest of my finger around to his palm one by one until we were entangled in one another. I had never felt so calm yet scared in my short life. Parker, afraid Mrs. McCartney or Tina would see us, quickly pulled his hoodie out from his bag and laid it overtop our still intertwined hands. It hurt a little to watch him hide me like that, like he was ashamed. Yet, I understood deep down how afraid Parker was to come out. He had always been someone who had lots of people like him. Park thought that if he came out, then they would all disappear. Little does he know that no matter what, I will stand by his side until he told me to leave, but maybe he wasn’t afraid of coming out, he was afraid of being with me.

   Parker and I’s hand stayed weaved for the duration of our trip to WVU. Our conference wasn’t until tomorrow, so tonight plans of dinner, swimming, and movie seeing flooded the adjoining rooms between Parker, Max, and I and the girls. Dale was taking Summer, Margaret, and Emily to see the newest Will Ferrell comedy while Tina and Max decided to stay in and play cards or something. Mrs. McCartney went to bed at about 7. Parker and I decided to take advantage of the pool downstairs.

   The pool was kind of s***ty but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

  “Why does this water feel like chicken noodle soup broth?” Parker laughed as he slid closer to me in the lukewarm water.

  “ I think the better question is why is there a Band-Aid stuck to your arm?” I pointed out the Hello Kitty on his arm.

  “Oh my god, I’m not even hurt. That isn’t mine!” Parker screeched as he jumped around trying to get off the bandage. In the water Parker moved like he did on the soccer field, effortlessly yet determined. It was a wonderful look that really suited him. My god he was beautiful.

  “I think I need a tetanus shot.” Parker joked as he moved back to me.

  “Come here and let me check.” I mocked grabbing onto Parker’s toned pale arm.

Our eyes locked and I began to lean into him when Parker abruptly jerked away.

  “McCartney might wake up and w-wonder why we left Max and Tina a-a-alone upst-st-airs. W-we should get g-going.” Parker stuttered as he reached the steps to the pool.

  “Okay.” I said weakly as I climbed out and wrapped me towel around me shivering skinny body.

What did I do? Should I not have leaned in? Parker was leaning in. His body language was warranting a kiss. Dammit, did I just screw this up again? How do these opportunities for us to be together again keep flying away? Maybe the universe was trying to tell me something.

   We rode quietly in the elevator together, either one of us too afraid to confront the other. I sullenly walked down the hallway and into our room. Our adjoining room gave sight to Max and Tina who were playing cards. I walked over to the door and closed it. I paced throughout the cream room for a minute, the carpet feeling like warm memory foam on my heels. Parker sat at the end of the bed on the other side of the room, twiddling his fingers.

  “Parker.” I said sternly.

  “Yes?” Parker spoke quietly, like he was sick. He couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

  “I’m done pretending that you don’t mean anything to me.” I said clearly, trying to see if he would look at me.

  “You and I have been something since we were 8 years old and we both know that I-“ I moved closer to Parker.

   “Stop talking.” Parker abruptly demanded.

  I stopped in my tracks as Parker rose from the soft red duvet.

    “I know what we are, so don’t think for a second that I don’t. I have thought about that kiss in your room almost everyday for 7 years, Damien,” Tears began to bead in his eyes.

   “You are my best friend and I never want you to leave me again.” He turned his head to the floor, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “Please. Please don’t leave me again.” He turned his head towards me and in the second I couldn’t contain it anymore. He was my Parker and he needed me.

 “Iloveyou.” I blurted out without a single pause.

  Parker’s face was now wet with tears. He gave me a disbelieving smile as he walked closer towards me, still dripping from the pool.

 “I know you do Damien.” He grabbed the sides of my face.

 “You are my everything. I love you too.

I couldn’t breathe. Without thinking I lifted Parker’s chin up and kissed him. Benjamin Franklin couldn’t hold a candle to the electricity the form between the two of us. His warm mouth brushed against mine in a fit of passion. My arms wrapped themselves around his muscular body. I could taste Parker’s tears and I knew, I knew I would never leave him again.

  Our kiss was roughly 19 hours ago. This morning we went to our journalism conference but I wasn’t focused. I have been thinking about Parker: Parker’s eyes, his mouth, his body… He is like an addiction.

   We rode back to Huntsville with Mrs. McCartney and Tina again. That’s where I’m writing this, the back of McCartney’s Honda Pilot. Parker sits beside me asleep with his head dirty blonde hair a mess against the window. I don’t know what will come of us, if Parker will come out, if he will decide to be with me. I want to believe that everything will work out in my favor and Parker and I can hold hands down the hallways, but I’m not sure if my dreams will become reality. I am writing this so that I can remember Parker and I because I don’t know how much longer we will be “we.”

  Parker Erie is the one great love of my life. I can’t forget the times I had with him because I’m not sure how many times we will have left. However, in the end, I think I will remember us like this: Parker asleep against the window, my head still spinning from last night, the smell of pine wafting throughout the car. I’m done writing this now. I’m going to make the most of the time I left with him, but I’m hoping it’s more than the last times.

                                                       Love,

                                                             Damien Harrington