Parking Frenzy

NOTES:



whywhywhy are you here? Are you here too tell me that you love me and you'll leave when its all over or are you here too tell me that your staying with her? Get inside before the neighbours see you. How close is close enough? Do you remember that time at the piano in the dark or have you long since forgotten me? Why are you here in your pretty little shirt and trousers did you spend a small fortune too look that good for me? And now your gone and I know you saw me. And now your standing right in front of me. I could touch you if I moved 6 inches. Why do you wear a little silver bangle like that, is it hers? Little stripey shirt and shiny shoes. And now your gone. Come back. I've been benthonic and cosmogyral until now. Im at home in you. Come back.You make me nervous. Please. You make me nervous.

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PARKING FRENZY

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1.



Laney is so nervous that she needs too go too the bathroom before we tell her story. Shes that kind of person. So well let her go too the bathroom first then.

On her way too the bathroom Laney met the youngest of the Finlay brothers, Cole. He bumped into her on purpose as if too get her attention but then carried on down the stairs without saying anything, this made her even more nervous and she practically ran too the bathroom.

Laney is 17 and has no tongue.

She cannot speak, she is a mute. She was born without a tongue and nobody knows why, birth defect the doctors claimed.

She cannot speak so she says nothing, and thats the way she likes it. Laney also met a girl who sang the blues on the way too the bathroom and im sure she would have asked her for some happy news had she a tongue. Laney does not smile. She struggles too eat because of her lack of tongue. She is too thin too smile.

The only person she acknowledges is a boy from her school, his name is Parker. He is 18 and deaf. He has dark brown hair that falls in neat bangs over his face and has grey eyes and is a vegetarian. She likes him because he smiles at her in the corridor and they have a silent recognition of each other. She might have told him how she felt by now exept even if she could, how would he hear her? And so nothing was said and they ran around in tragic non-communative circles, figuratively.

Laney and Parker went too the same highschool, it was full of the typical high-school cliques: jocks, plastics, nerds, goths, hipsters, wannabes, weirdos, arty kids, stoners, scene kids, ravers, tom-boys, bitches, white-trash, emos, sluts, gays in denial, stalkers and indie-kids.

It scared Laney and only amused Parker. Laney met Parker in her 1st year at school, he was in her class for a few weeks before moving too another class for people with special hearing needs, which he later rebelled against in his early teens. She was not only attracted too him because he had a handicap like her but because he looked beautiful, like someone with a deep soul and a belief in justice. She followed him like a lost puppy for a few weeks before he was transferred and they only saw each other every now and then in the corridors. He still smiles at her.

They only have one class together and thats music. Parker studies history of music and Laney studies practical music.

It was the softest Autumn afternoon Laney had seen in a long time, the orange and red leaves that decorated the grounds of the school made the grounds look as if they had caught fire, Laney loved the smell of the damp but mild afternoon, the sunlight streaming through the trees in slivers of light. The light catches every dust mote floating in the desolate corridors of the Music Department where Laney stays behind every lunch too practice piano, shes played since she was 10 years old. Her dad taught her before her parents where divorced, but Laney in all her nervousness would never play in-front of the class. The thing about Laney is when she starts playing the piano she cant stop, she gets sucked in. Piano is her release from her tragic life of silence, it pours sound back into her life, colour back into her world.

She runs her fingers over the black and ivory keys, smiling gently, like shaking hands with and old friend. She sucks in air then begins too play and the world around her dissolves and she is floating in her own world of sound.

Lifted off her feet by the emotion she feels when shes playing, trills and descending scales giving her back a voice, Laney is talking in semi-quavers and off beat rhythms.



Patting his jacket pockets frantically Parker realises he has left his lighter upstairs in the music classroom when he was taking his stuff out his pockets too find his pen. Thats another thing about Parker, people are surprised that he smokes and causes trouble at school from time too time, like everyone thinks that just because your deaf means your a damn angel and never step out of line. He finds this hilarious, Parker also speaks now & then, he cant hear himself but can feel the vibrations when he speaks so he knows how too control his voice and not be shouting all the time. This shocks people too. Parker's whole world is made of vibrations, everything is by touch and sight. When you lose one sense the rest all sharpen radically.

As he reached the top of the stairs he felt vibrations under his feet, faint yes, but there nonetheless. "Great" he thought "Some kids are probably playing drums or something, they better not have touched my lighter". When he reached the classroom the door was already ajar and as he looked inside he realised what the vibrations finally where. There at the great, black, polished grand piano next too the windows sat Laney Frost, the school mute.

Parker's eyes are watering, pinned open forcefully by invisable match-sticks. His mouth falls open a little and his mind runs blank. Something about a lighter floats too the back of his mind where it settles in for a lifetime of dust gathering, a thought forgotten. The sunlight is pouring through small gaps in the blinds, the warm light desperate for her skin, pouring over her ivory face in a desperate attempt too colour it, it clings too every inch of her. Even the sun is in love with her.

The vibrations in the floor are reverbrating from the great black piano she seems too be courting with her fingers, somewhat a blur by the speed she is playing. Ballerinas dont have the grace her hands do.

Without thinking, not because he cant but because his mind wont let him, it is too busy sending all its attention too the eyes, forcing them too remember and record. Burning the image of this moment on the inside of his eyelids forever. His feet begin too move, his body is walking towards the diety of grace sitting at the piano, acting on pure will. As his brain registers this it snaps back into control. In a rush too get itself together the legs are momenterally forgotten and he stumbles blindly, smacking into the desk nearest the door.



several things happen at once;

throbbing pain shoots up his legs, only mildly registered by his over-capacitated brain.

the vibrations stop.

Laney Frost is staring at him



In a deserted music classroom in upper Manhatten at Belleview Highschool, the school mute and a deaf boy are staring at each other across the classroom. Nothing too say and nothing too hear. A complete understanding.

Time seemed too stand still, Laney was holding her breath, just taking him in, all his beauty filling the door-way. His grey eyes shone like marbles set in ivory hollows and his skin glowed like back-lit alabaster. Neat, soft, copper-brown hair touched cheekbones that could cut glass. He wore the school uniform; black tie with the gold school logo on it hung loosely round his neck, a white shirt, a black sleeve-less pullover, a pair of black jeans, a white belt, a pair of shiny black italian leather boots and a black military jacket that reached just past his theighs witch probably cost more than anything Laney owned. His black courier bag hung too one side resting on his hip. Laney's body reminded her she needed oxygen too live and she inhaled. He stood perfectly still leaning against the door way witch he must have re-coiled too after bumping into the nearest desk she noted by the look of all the books on the floor.

"Laney frost" Parker thought too himself, "Laney Frost" his mind repeated. "Damn, why have i never looked at you properly before?" he questioned internally. her long red hair which reached most of the way down her back looked like silk on fire and her blue eyes caught the light like glass sun-catchers. Her black skirt flowed over the back of the piano seat in neat folds and her black little ballet pumps with lace up sides rested on the floor pedals. Out of his periphial vision he noted her dogs-tooth jacket slung on a desk near-by besides her bag.

The, until now invisible, dust motes in the room were suddenly lit up by a shaft of sun-light flowing in through the window and it made the air iredescant. Suddenly the room was filled with 1 million fireflies, they fluttered and spun in the liquid gold Autumn sun. There feverish glow reflected in every surface. The room turned marmolade coloured.

Then the sun dipped behind the trees and the spell was broken, the once tangerine fire-flies turned back into grey dust motes. But the girl who he might have been imagining still sat frozen in place at the glassy liquorice coloured piano.



Time resumed and Laney and Parker reached for thier bags at the exact same moment, both pulling out notepads. Parker brought out a brown A5 notepad made form recycled paper and a pencil. Laney produced a large black notepad and a red 'sharpie' marker. Frantic scrawling sounds filled the air. Parker wrote the quickest.



LANEY RIGHT?



Laney read the notepad from across the room then after a few more scrawling seconds mirrored his actions.



YEAH, PARKER?



He nodded in response and crossed the room too her. Laney should have been out the door shaking and trembling by now, she got so nervous, she must have been a deer living by a busy highway in a past life.



I DIDN'T KNOW YOU PLAYED...



Parker wrote, leaning against a desk a few feet from her now. she shrugged her shoulders and stepped forward another foot. She leant on the opposing desk not meeting his eyes. Parker bit his lip and wrote:



I WISH I COULD HEAR YOU PLAY.



Laney forced herself too look up, reading the page of the notepad he held out too face her. Her eyes softened and she started writing on her own little sheet of communication.



I WISH I COULD TELL YOU IM NO GOOD..



Parker raised an eye-brow and they both laughed. the laughter of a mute and a deaf kid rung around the room for a few moments, only Parkers laugh made a sound and only Laney could hear it. Absentee landlords can be so cruel.

A bell rang somewhere and kids shuffled too class. Parker and laney walked too the second floor together in comfortable silence, when they reached the second stairs they turned and faced each other too say thier silent goodbyes. Smiling, Laney turned off too French and Parker turned off too Science. Two kids in Belleview high-school had just met. And somehow had never really existed till now. Parker never did get that lighter back.









2.

French dragged like it had never dragged before. The clock insisted on ticking back two seconds for every three in ticked forward. The bell eventually rang and kids sprinted from the room eager too not spend anymore time in the school than was neccessary. Laney was heading towards the end of the Languages corridor when she noticed that on one of the windows that was steamed up with condensation, from it being so cold outside and so many warm bodies in the school, her name was written. She stopped walking and stared, there it was about 15 yards away, clear as day. LANEY.

She blinked twice then shuffled cautiously towards the seemingly beckoning window. Suddenly around the name a little pink spot appeared and proceeded too clear in a circular motion around it, wiping a thin strip of condensation away as it did so. It arched in under the letters then dissappeared only too appear on the other side and mimick the motion. When it had finished Laney's name was contained inside a perfect love-heart.

With one smooth movemant a panel of condensation on the window was cleared from the outside, and there, framed, was the face of Parker Cunningham.

Laney closed the gap without thought, as she faced him through the slowly re-steaming window she wished that the panel of glass wasnt seperating them. Parker shivered and pulled his fur hooded parker tighter too him, Laney pressed her hand against the window willing it too dissolve so she could touch him. Parker mimicked this action and smiled.

Suddenly it felt like a light went on in Laney's head, there was a fire door about 60 yards along the corridor. She could get out too Parker from there.

The fire doors gave way with an unappriecated crack and Laney stumbled out into the cold where warm hands met her shoulders and steadied her. Outside was colder than Laney had anticipated and the deaf childs arms were looking good and warm right now but Laney forced herself too shrug from his grip too look at him. She smiled and reached for her note-pad in the front pocket of her bag.



DID YOU SKIP LAST PERIOD?



laney flipped the note-pad round too let Parker read. he took the note-pad and pen from her and wrote:



YOU DIDNT?



Laney raised her eye-brows and reached for the notebook.



BAD INFLUENCE. CAN I HELP YOU WITH SOMETHING?



MAYBE, CAN YOU GIVE ME A RIDE HOME?



SURE



Laney shoved the note-pad back into her bag and motioned for Parker too walk ahead. The wind bit into Laneys neck and she pulled her jacket closer too her, Autumn in Manhatten could be so cold some days and it would be getting dark soon. Her car was parked near the bottom of the student car park behind the western block of science buildings, they would have too cross the sport grounds including the basketball court too get there. Laney Frost had an idea.

They walked in comfortable silence until they reached the basketball court where Laney dropped her bag and faced Parker with the a wicked grin. Game face.

'Why the hell is she grinning?' Parker thought too himself as she faced him, her eyes burned with an un-spoken goal. It was like watching the devil play poker and get a full house. 'Nothing good can come of that grin' Parker concluded too himself.



The orange and brown leaves on the trees that surrounded the court on the east and west sides russled with the wind only adding more tension too the moment. Laney started walking away from Parker who dropped his bag and folded his arms in curiosity. She was headed for the storage locker at the back of the closest net. This had trouble written all over it. Laneys note-pad peaked from her lonely dogs-tooth bag, discarded at Parkers feet, un-wanted. He picked it up and flipped too a clean page, pulling the pen out from its prison of spiraled metal at the top of the pad. He popped the cap and began too write:



LITTLE CHILLY FOR A GAME OF BASKETBALL DONT YOU THINK?



He followed her steps too the storage locker with his red-letter in hand.



Laney had disappeared around the back and the wind was really starting too pick up, Parker shivered in the cool air and tapped the note-pad impatiently against the the side of the metal box housing the schools sports equipment. The box vibrated slighting and Parker walked around the back wondering just what on earth Laney could be upto. When he reached the back he was met with the image of Laney, one foot on the back door, other firmly planted on the ground, tugging at the bolt that kept the heavy doors wedged shut. Parker tilted his head and sniffed, pulling the pen back too the note-pad, he scored out his previous question and re-wrote:



ITS A LITTLE CHILLY FOR GRAND THEFT BASKETBALL.



He stuck the pad infront of her face and raised both eye-brows up into his forehead. Laney tilted her head too look at him and her red hair shuffled across her shoulders caught in the wind, it touched the collar of his jacket and his hand twitched too touch it. 'Control Parker, Control' he thought as he firmly placed his free hand on his hip. This would be Parkers mantra as long as he knew Laney Frost. Who was now facing the box again, she heaved one final time, her arms shaking with the momentum and the cold wind.The bolt slid, grinding against the rust of the door which flaked and fell onto the ground emulating the leaves of the trees around them. The door swung open slightly and before parker could blink Laney was heaving it aside with both hands, complete determination on her face. 'what the hell is she doing?' he asked himself rhetorically as he watched the red head disappear inside the great metal box.

Inside the storage box was a treasure cove of sports gear; badminton rackets, all brand new with no strings missing, hockey sticks, leaning against the right hand wall in a neat fence-like pattern which looked like an un-painted picket fence, the kind that was white and gleaming with all its connotations in the front gardens of ideal home-owners, hurdles, stacket upwards from the floor like flat-packed tables you bought from wall-mart for $25.99, soccar balls, base-ball bats and mits littering the rest of the floor and walls. And there, in the corner, sat the circular chalice of sport that Laney was searching for. She picked up the basket-ball and clutched it in both hands. Parker had a bad feeling that told him Laney wasnt in here with the intentions of brushing up on her sporting skills.



Out on the asphalt it was getting dark and much cooler, Laney bounced the ball twice and walked into the center of the court, Parker persued her. He was glad Laney had unusually red hair as it was getting darker with every second and Parkers eye-sight wasnt great, he peered out across the grounds and spotted the red-haired thief about 10ft away, stationary, facing him. She waited patiently as Parker chucked the note-pad down beside thier forgotten bags and headed towards her. Somewhere teachers where looking out into the dimming grounds and watching a fire-haired mute girl stare at a freezing cold deaf boy. Basketball for the minorities.

Laney thrust the ball toward Parker who caught it just before it hit his chest, he rolled it from side to side between his numb hands and looked at her cautiously. Parker had never been too great at sport, his dad made him play basketball with the school team in junior years and he had become quite good but Parker had given it up. He had always thought if he played he may turn out too be like the jocks who eyed him with animosity as they passed in the corridors. He resented the jocks and all thier attitudes towards competion and women. Gross, over-grown, beefed up boys who looked like freaks of GM experiments and selective breeding, with the IQ of a celery stick.

Air whistled in the now silohetted trees and Parker let out a low sigh. He looked at Laney for an answer as too why they where standing here. It was getting late and too cold too be out here, but everytime he looked at Laney he forgot why he was even complaining. She glowed, all evil intentions carefully gaurded behind the glass, blue-moon, eyes she was smiling at him with.



Laney Frost is a fox. A mute, piano playing, sports-equippment stealing, fox.



Laney pointed too the net behind her and put both hands up in a surrender position. the number 10. 'she wants me too shoot 10 baskets. what the hell?' Parker thought too himself as he felt his fore-head furrow in confusion. Laney tilted her head and mouthed the words 'then ill drive you home'. Parker laughed, always a catch. He bounced the bal too make sure it wasnt too soft and then proceeded too the court line. He smiled at Laney who stood patiently with her hands on her hips, trails of breath made visible by the cold air leaked from her lips and disappated into the night. Parker thought this would be easy if he didnt find her so distracting.

He lined up on the court, facing the net, eyes on the hoop, squinting slightly in the dim light. Aim for the square he remembered. Aim for the square. Parkers feet bounced on the balls and his arms extended in one motion, as his fingers gave the ball the final push up into the air it collided with the box and tumbled through the hoop. The first noise to break the silence was the swish of the net followed by the thud of the ball hitting the ground. Only Laney heard this. It bounced a few times then began too roll and Parker looked at Laney smugly. Easy.

Laney Frost was standing with her arms folded, smiling, cool like the air around her. Which was odd because Laney was a very nervous girl but looking at her now she seemed collected and with many tricks up her jumper sleave. This was too odd for Parker and so he collected the ball and walked over too the heaps of cloth on the ground that resembled thier school bags. He picked up the note-pad and once again began too write.



WHATS THE GAME PLAN?



He handed it too Laney who took it, read it, then began too write a reply.



THERE IS NO GAME PLAN, I JUST THOUGHT I SHOULDNT GIVE YOU ANYTHING FOR NOTHING.



WHAT DOES 10 BASKETS GET ME? A RIDE HOME?



PRETTY MUCH.



ARCADE STYLE. WHAT DOES 20 BASKETS GET ME?



A RIDE HOME IN ONE PIECE



Parker raised his eye-brows. Little dark coming from the nervous pianist that never said a word, even if she could have. Just what was Laney Frost upto?



OKAY THEN SCARY PIANIST, ILL SHOOT 25 BASKETS AND ILL TAKE A RIDE HOME AND YOU HAVE TOO PLAY SOMETHING FOR ME TOMORROW IN MUSIC. DEAL?



Laney considered this for a moment then looked at Parker, her expression was gentle and innocent. She smiled and blinked at him followed by the nodding of her head. They had a deal. A perfectly innocent wager between two friends. So why did Parker feel like hed just made a deal with the devil herself?

Parker walked back too his previous position on the court and too a second shot at the basket. It went in. So did the next one. And the next one. And the next one until parker had shot 24 baskets without missing once. Parker revelled in his smugness of still being pretty good since he hadnt played since he was a kid. Must be natural.

He glanced over at Laney who was now sitting, legs crossed, on the ground, smiling. Parker winked at her and lined up too take his last shot. A ride home with the fox and a private concert tomorrow morning. This was looking like a good deal. Parker cracked his fingers on both hands and flexed his shoulders a little, he was stiffening slightly because of the cold. He leaned onto the balls of his feet for the last shot, ready too flex his wrists and make his 25th basket. Sealing the deal.

As the ball left his hands in perfect alignment for the net the wind blew hard across the court and the ball spun just a few centimeters out of line.



2 things happened:

the ball hit the board just too the right of the net and bounced off the rim of the hoop, making a re-bound in parkers direction but hitting the ground as gravity weighed in.

Laney Frost was making a gurgling sound that could have been mistaken for laughter.



Parker stood frozen on the court, frustrated and disappointed. the ball rolled solitary and neglected too the right of the court where it ground too an un-steady halt in the wind. Parker looked at Laney, hands still frozen in place from the shot. She rose from her sitting position on the ground and started over too him. Her movement was fluid and her expression was wicked. Parkers hands dropped by his side.

It was just an innocent wager but if it meant getting too hear her play for him he would have stayed on the freezing grounds all night just shooting hoops till she was content with her payment for music she could not hear.

Laney was moving like she had no intentions of slowing, an un-stoppable force. A devil with a full hand coming too collect its poker prize. A hungry hurricane looking at a 16 room mantion complete with swimming pool and en-suite bathrooms. A mute girl looking at a deaf boy who had just lost a small wager.

When laney was just 3ft from Parker he noticed something, a very little something.

Her left hand was behind her back, something he had never noticed in the dim light of the court, it was so small in every moment that it had become insignificant. As she was closing the gap he saw her middle and index finger, pale, long and smooth knotted and crossed over. had she had her fingers crossed the whole time?

The devil was in the details.



Then the heat of Laney Frosts skin was melting the thin layer of ice that Parker felt had formed on his. Laney frost was within inches of his face and closing the gap all the time. Un-stoppable. And then they collided. Her lips were touching his. Her hands were on his waist. Her hair was whipping in the wind around them, the only light in the dim court. Parker was warm all over with her body heat. Laney Frost was kissing Parker Cunningham. Parkers ears were ringing like he had been in a downtown club all night. It felt like electricity was eating his veins from the inside out. She was kissing him. The fox was kissing him. Blood cells were pixilating and eyes were dialating.

And then just as his brain was starting too process the moment, it stopped.

Parkers body was layered under the perma-frost of the night once again. His eyes opened against there will too look at the fox that had just been kissing him. Eyes still dialated, blood cells still pixilated, Parker stared. Mouth open. Body stiffened in shock. Expect the unexpected.

His mouth flapped like fishes do when they are caught and wrenched out the water, flung into a hungry fishermans boat. Scared and bewildered.

Parker was flailing in the bottom of Laney Frosts fishing boat right about now.

She just stood silently, calm and smiling.

Parker continued too flail.



Laney was first to move. She recoiled back from him slowly, her shoulders seem to roll, she wasnt so much moving as slinking to be honest.

"Damn Fox" Parker thought to himself.

it was the only thought that reallly crossed his now fried mind.

circuits blown and internal smoke alarms seemed to be ringing.

Parkers legs seemed to be either asleep or invalid because they made no effort to follow her as she turned her back to him and crossed the court back towards their bags.

Parker squinted his eyes through the now dimmed court, night was now crawling in fast and heavy.

Somehow they had lost track of time.

The wind was still biting and Parker felt it now he had been removed from the life energy of warmth that was Laney Frost.

His body finally seemed to click online and his legs stumbled at first then moved more co-ordinated towards the red head who now stood patiently by thier possesions.



When he reached her he saw she was holding her notepad with the the words:



C'MON ILL TAKE YOU HOME



written on it.

parker wanted to ask her so many questions but the wind and the darkness now consuming the entire court said otherwise.

He lifted his satchel bag from the ground as Laney stuffed her notepad back into her bag and pulled her jacket closer to her.

His mind was now crawling for answers, Laney Frost had kissed him.

As they headed towards the carpark he was wondering if somehow the cold was making him hallucinate.

Was this really happening?

He peered over at his companion whos face was somehow hidden by her hair but he felt she was smirking.

"freaking fox" he commented to himself.

parker thought long and hard about how little he really knew about Laney, This was not the girl that had apppeared to him in the corridor or the music department.

This wasnt just a hidden side of her, this was a non existant one.

Was he some kind of catalyst for impulsion in Laney?

He stopped questioning the kiss and her other actions as they reached the car, it could wait.

He stood on the passenger door side of Laneys old beat up red chevorlette waiting for it to be unlocked.

As they climbed in and the doors swung shut a deep silence seemed to fill the car.

They paused.

Parker was so grateful for the warmth that he almost forgot to put his seatbelt on.

As he did so Laney started the car and pulled it into reverse



Just as they exited the school grounds Laney reached forward and clicked the old CD player on the dashboard on.

'Diary of Jane' by Breaking Benjamin started up.

Not that parker could here it, he just read it off the display on the CD player.

Parker put his hands on the old, tattred, distressed leather seats and felt for the vibrations.

He wanted to know what kind of music Laney liked.

The vibrations were almost none and then heavy and quick, then regulated.

This had to be a rock band.

So she liked rock music.

Interesting.

Parker eyed Laney with interest and some mild suspicion.