Always Had A Vision Of Us
**Inspired by drop dead by Olivia Rodrigo**
JJ
Two years before Rule Breakers
I didn't care. I really shouldn't care. But watching Parker spin around the living room in a tiny sundress made my stomach ache. Maybe I had eaten something bad, and it wasn't Parker.
I wanted to believe that. She stopped spinning, gracing the world with her smile, and the ache intensified.
It was definitely her.
"What do you guys think?" She asked cheerfully. Parker was never cheerful. Neither did she ever wear dresses. This guy -- I couldn't stomach saying his name -- had changed her.
"You look beautiful, Dipper." Big John said, pressing a kiss to the top of his daughter's head. "Brendon's a lucky man."
Man. I snickered under my breath. That scrawny thing that had hit puberty two months ago was not a man. A man child whose peach fuzz facial hair glowed under sunlight, maybe.
That was rude. He had gotten Parker. He was more of a man than I'd ever be.
"What the hell is that?" John B asked. The same thing he said every time his sister got done up for a date. "I can't see the bottom part. Are you really letting her go out like this?"
He motioned to Parker's dress with the dull edge of his Nutella-smeared knife. Parker rolled her eyes, a small smirk tipping the corner of her lips. When John B lashed out, she knew she look good.
"The dress is fine." Big John declared. Behind her dad's back, Parker stuck her tongue out at John B. "Just because you wish she join a convent doesn't mean she has to dress like it."
John B stuck his chocolate and hazelnut coated tongue back out at Parker. Playfully rolling her eyes, Parker turned to where I was sitting. Her eyes met mine, and I wished the worn couch would swallow me whole.
"JJ?"
I shook my head quickly, banishing the daze that her brown and blue eyes continuously pulled me into. "Hm?"
"The dress?"
Swallowing hard, I felt my mouth run dry. What the hell was I supposed to say?
You're so beautiful my chest physically hurts?
Since when do you wear dresses?
Please don't go out with him?
"It's easy access." I settled on, nodding indifferently toward the short skirt that had John B clutching his pearls. "I'm sure he'll love it."
Parker scoffed. "Easy access." She repeated for show. "I don't know what else I expected from you."
Her bottom lip jutted out, just slightly, like she was disappointed I didn't have something better to say. Like she said, "I don't know what else I expected from you."
Fuck. Was that the kind of man I was? Even if her frown was to get a rise out of me, I couldn't stomach her believing she was just another warm, wet pussy to me.
Especially because that was the farthest thing from the truth.
"You look great, Parker."
Parker stared ahead at me, almost like she didn't believe the words that had come from my mouth. I wouldn't have either had my heart not been hammering in its cage.
When she realized I wasn't kidding, her eyes lit up. I tried to look away, but couldn't. Her brown eye glimmered with the feeling of magic, causing me to bite my tongue until the taste of iron flooded my mouth. I needed her to stop looking at me like there was a chance she wouldn't walk out the door and into someone else's arms.
Outside, gravel crunched under expensive tires. I had come to despise the sound more than the whir of my dad's own truck. Two honks echoed through the neighborhood, and Parker skipped towards the door.
"That's him."
"He's not even coming to the door to get you?" John B dramatically dropped the knife into the Nutella jar. However much I hated that Parker had a boyfriend, he hated it more. "He just honks like you're something to be hitched to the back of his truck?"
Parker threw her head over her shoulder mockingly. "It's because he's scared of you."
"Yeah, well he's about to be a lot more scared. I'm going to talk to him. Teach him how to properly pick a girl up."
Chucking his frozen waffle on the counter, John B barreled through the front door Parker was desperately trying to slam in his face.
"Jesus, Bird. Go easy on the poor kid!" Big John called after him. He swiped the waffle John B had abandoned on the counter, shovelling it into his mouth.
The door slammed, and without so much as a thought, Big John reached out and caught the picture frame that rattled off the wall. Parker cursed loudly outside, presumably at John B, followed by the bang of a car door.
"They're going to kill each other." Big John laughed, shaking his head. He busied himself with replacing the waffle he had eaten, occasionally glancing up at where I stared angrily at the black TV screen.
"You alright, son?" He asked, spreading Nutella on the replacement waffle.
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"
Big John pursed his lips together, letting his eyes drop to the scowl on my face. Neither of us ever uttered it aloud, but he knew. And I knew he knew.
"Let the honeymoon phase pass." Big John told me. There was no point in pretending I didn't know what he was talking about. "You'll realize she's still the same girl she always was."
"She seems pretty happy being this girl." His girl.
Smiling, Big John placed the waffle where John B had left it on the counter. "Just trust me on this one, kid."
Winking, he disappeared into his office at the same time the front door flew open. John B stomped his way into the kitchen with his chest puffed out.
"I hate that kid." He grumbled.
"He didn't do anything wrong, Bird!" Big John called from his office. John B flipped off the shut door, sauntering into the living room.
"Who shit in your Cheerios?" John B asked around a mouthful of waffle.
"Nobody." I grumbled. "I'm fine."
"Is this still about Stacy Barnett?"
No. It had never been about Stacy Barnett.
Most guys would flip out finding the girl they'd been hooking up with for months riding another guy in his car. It was water under the bridge to me. We used to have sex, and now we didn't.
But, somehow, watching the girl I had never touched leave with another man sent me reeling.
"No." I shook my head, reiterating, "I'm fine."
John B didn't believe me. That was better than knowing what was really bothering me. Instead of pushing farther, he walked over to the TV, grabbing a faded DVD case.
"I have something that'll fix that." He said, holding up an old tape of American Pie. I forced a smirk.
It certainly wouldn't fix my problem. Bare boobs couldn't fix a broken heart. But it was a distraction.
Not a good enough one, unfortunately. While John B gaped at the grainy TV screen with a red line down the side, I pulled out my phone and opened Instagram.
The first thing I noticed was a new story from Parker. Clicking on it would be a mistake -- I knew that. My thumb had a mind of it's own, and before I could stop it, I was tapping on Parker's profile.
PKRoutledge - Ten Minutes Ago.
Her lips on Brendon's cheek. A pink ice cream cone in her hand. The Ferris wheel from Figure Eight in the background. Set to Someone That You're With by Nickelback.
He took her to Figure Eight, his homeland. To the pier, for a picture-worthy date that he didn't even smile in. And Parker set it to a song about loving someone from the sidelines.
Jesus Christ.
I should have exited the app. I should have turned off my phone. I should have said no when John B asked me to come over after soccer practice in third grade.
If there was one thing I was not good at, it was doing things I should have.
His handle was in her bio, followed heart emoji and a lock. Underneath, "Girls invented punk rock" in bold letters. Some things never change.
I scrolled through her Instagram mindlessly. Her most recent pictures were of him, and then there was one with Pope. A few pictures of the beach, and a few more with John B. Then, at the very bottom, was a photo with me.
We were both thirteen, eating ice cream on the beach. Parker had a pink cone in her hand, and when I tried to steal a bite, she crashed her lips to my cheek.
My face had gone beet red, and she caught it in a photograph. Behind the two of us, a blurry John B was rolling his eyes. The caption: I think I made him angry.
I compared it to the story she had posted with Brendon. Her smile didn't quite meet her eyes the same way it did when we were thirteen. Where she wore a frilly sundress, she had on a raggy band tee and a pair of shorts. Most of all, one of the guys wore a catty smirk, while the other was red enough that it should have been medically evaluated.
I stared at the photo for the rest of the movie. Add it to the list of things I shouldn't have done. I memorized every detail, every stray hair that fell over Parker's face, every dot of a freckle on her skin. The crookedness of her genuine smile. By the time I collapsed onto the pullout bed, I could have drawn the post from memory.
John B went to bed shortly after the movie finished, probably to call someone. I didn't mind. Big John was yet to emerge from his office, and I was content stalking Parker's Instagram until the gaping hole in my chest ate me alive.
A little after eleven, the front door creaked open. Slowly, the way it did when someone was trying not to make a noise after curfew. Parker appeared in her sundress, hair tossled by the wind and smelling of some crappy, expensive cologne. And yet, I couldn't help but stare at her.
"Hey." She whispered, glancing down curiously at the glowing blue screen in my hands. Panicked, I chucked my phone across the bed, listening to the device bounce from the mattress onto the floor.
"Hey." I whispered back, casually. Totally didn't care if my phone was smashed. I'd prefer if it was.
"Did I interrupt something?" Parker asked. She giggled to herself and made an inappropriate gesture with her hands, causing me to roll my eyes.
At least she didn't see the photo.
"You're very funny." I deadpanned. Parker wobbled on one foot, untying her Converse, before chucking them across the room and flopping onto the pullout bed.
"Glad you think so."
My entire body tensed seeing her relax into my space. Without asking, she reached across my body and stole the barbeque chips I had been snacking on, shovelling them into her mouth.
For the first time that night, I smiled, watching orange-dusted chips fall from the corner of her mouth onto the mattress.
"What?" Parker asked, lying on her back. She glanced up at me through her mascara-coated lashes, causing my heart to stumble off beat.
"How was the date?" I asked, changing the subject. Not that I wanted to hear anything about what she and Mr. Manchild did tonight.
"Pretty good." She smiled. I leaned over and took a handful of chips for myself before she finished them off. "There was a lot of Kooks, though. I felt like an outsider."
"Is that why you got all dressed up?" I motioned to the dress that was fighting to stay up on her body. "To fit in?"
Parker laughed. Actually laughed. She'd never do such a thing.
"It was mostly to piss John B off. " She told me. That sounded a lot more like her. "And Brendon thinks I have nice legs."
"You do." I said before I could stop myself. Thankfully, Parker accepted the comment with a tiny smile.
Kicking her legs into the air, she rolled over onto her stomach, her head resting by my thigh. "I think they look better in shorts. Dresses aren't my style." She declared, resting on her elbows. "Speaking of which, would you undo me?"
She cocked her head back to where the sundress had been tied into a knot. I froze on the bed.
"Un-undo you?"
"It's a simple knot, JJ. I've seen you untie a million of them."
My hands shook as I tugged on the knot, watching it unravel through my fingers. I fought off the thought that maybe someone else had done this tonight, focused on the light brush of her skin against my knuckles.
I wanted to kiss every part of her. Tell her how beautiful she was. Then beg her to never, ever see Brendon again.
"There you go," I said instead, pulling my hands away before I did something stupid. Parker let out a low groan.
"Finally, I can breathe again." She lifted her head off the mattress, smiling fuller than she had in any of the pictures I had seen tonight. Something in my chest loosened, and I huffed out a trapped breath.
"Sounds like someone stole you breath." I joked, hitting her in the face with one of the ties on her dress. She scrunched her nose up, then brushed her finger along my thigh.
"I think I stole his." She muttered.
"Hey, Dipper! Twenty minutes past curfew." He tsked, glancing at his nonexistent watch. "How was the date?"
"It was good. We walked the Figure Eight Pier for a bit. Played some games, got some ice cream." She paused, before sheepishly adding, "Made out in the back of his truck."
Big John pointed across the room. "He the one that undid your dress?"
"No, that was JJ." Parker said. My eyes nearly shot out from my head. Hearing those words from her mouth, even if they didn't mean what it sounded like, had my entire body buzzing.
Big John's head whipped towards mine. I tried to avoid his gaze, but it was impossible. It wasn't a disciplinary, watch yourself, but rather, I told you so.
Parker, catching the way we were awkwardly staring at each other, jumped in to defend me.
"I asked him too. He didn't just-"
"Well, now that you're home, kiddo, I'll head to bed." Big John interrupted her, shooting me a lopsided grin over her shoulder. "Don't stay up too late, kids."
"We won't." I promised Big John. I wasn't talking about staying up late.
Nothing would ever come from Parker and me. This wasn't a fairytale with a happy ever after. But for tonight, I could pretend.
"So, what'd you do tonight?" Parker asked, turning her attention back to me. I felt like the most important person in the world.
"Pictured undoing that dress of yours." I joked.
Kinda.