Magnolia Parks: The Long Way Home (Magnolia Parks Universe, #3)

by Jessa Hastings

He smiles over at me, looks at me in this way that makes me feel like we’re at school again. I’m fifteen on a yacht in the Balearics and his nose is pressed up against mine how I wish it really was now and he’s promising he’ll love me forever.

back to december coded

Wrote E = MC² in the dirt with my shoe while he wasn’t looking, prayed to whoever that they’d let me find my way back to him, and then I left and went back to Christian. I’ve always been like this. I don’t know how to be alone. It’s all BJ’s fault. He’s always been too good at making sure I never felt alone. So in his absence I’m petrified to sit with myself.

“I’m parked out front on Park Lane.” He shrugged apologetically. “I’m just not ready to be done talking to you yet.”

“Here, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.” “What?” I blinked. “Like a pack mule?” He gave me a tender smile. “I’d be anything for you.” “Will you be my friend?” I asked, staring up at him, wanting so, so much more than that. He nodded once on that street corner. “Whatever the fuck you need, Parks.”

Under these club lights oftentimes things can look better than they are. We’ve all fallen victim to that, rose-coloured, strobing glasses — but not him. All golden even though he’s not, my favourite mouth in the world on the face I see when I close my eyes. BJ presses his tongue into his bottom lip and I want to kiss him so badly — he’s watching my mouth — he wants to kiss me too. I know the look.

But I guess this is us now… BJ trying to do the right thing by everyone, even at the cost of moments between us.

“He is the most dangerous man in England. He can do whatever the fuck he wants.” I shake my head at him, jaw tight. “Not with her he can’t.”

“Where’s Parks?” I look around for her. He shoves me towards his car, shaking his head. “That’s not your problem right now, man.” “She’s always my problem.”

Fuck, I love being close to her.

“It needs a stitch, I think.” “Don’t want a stitch.” “It’ll scar.” I duck my head so our eyes catch. “Worth it.”

BJ kissed me though. That softens all the blows.

“You think I didn’t know he’d defend your honour when he saw me shagging some girl in a club?” He rolls his eyes. “It’s sweet—” He waves his hand dismissively. “How much he loves you.” I stare over at him, a bit incredulous. No. Could he really have? I squint at him. “Did you really do that for me or is this just a happy coincidence?” He gives me this long look, the question hangs there and I don’t know what the answer is. There’s so much he’s not saying in the silence, I can feel it all thick with things I don’t know. Whatever it is, it makes me feel a peculiar tenderness towards him that I didn’t want to feel while I was doing this. Julian clears his throat and gives me a tight smile. “You know what? I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve fallen into the ranks of men who find that there’s very little that they wouldn’t do for you, Magnolia Parks.” My face softens. “Oh my god.” I walk over to him, sit down on his bed. “Are you being serious?” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “He needed to feel good enough for you. Nothing ups a lad’s confidence like fighting for the girl he loves—”

OMG WHAT

“I thought Daisy was a handful, but fuck me dead, you’re an absolute headache.” I frown more. He clocks my face and chuckles. “Bit worth it though,” he says with a small nod.

Under their protection. So are you, so you don’t need mine. But you have it anyway.” He gives me a steady look. “You need anything ever — ever — I’m your man.” He gives me a solemn nod. I lean over and brush my lips against his. “Yes, you are.” I get up and walk to his door before turning back to look at him. He stares over at me. “You are a very dangerous man, Julian. I know that.” I give him a look. “But I hope you know that above that and before that, you actually really are quite a good man.”

AW

“He kissed you,” Bridget tells me as though that moment hasn’t been on active replay in my mind ever since. It was the perfect kiss. There’s nothing I love more in this world than his mouth up against mine, except maybe his body.

He pulls me into his chest, gives me one of those cuddles of his that I love, that used to be my bread and butter. I take what I can get, breathe him in all familiar, press myself tightly against him, make that silk Hawaiian shirt with lion mix print he’s wearing from Dolce & Gabbana smell like me, and pull back a little, looking up at him.

I roll my eyes at them as though it annoys me, as though how much he loves my sister isn’t the most endearing thing in the world.

aw

“I love you, Parks—” BJ rolls his eyes. “I’ve been in love with you since I was six and you told me you could kick a ball better than me, and listen, after being together in some way or another for nearly two decades now, I’ve got to tell you, Magnolia, it’s not true.” He shakes his head. “Your hand-eye coordination fucking sucks.” I frown over at him, offended and a bit in awe. “You can’t kick a ball for shit. But I love you,” he tells me. “I’m in love with you, have never stopped, will always til I die, love you.

“Will you spend time with me?” I ask. “All my time.” He nods with a small smile. “Take me shopping?” “Yes.” “Sleep in my bed?” His eyes pinch. “Maybe.” “Maybe?” I frown. “Maybe.” He nods. “If you watch those hands…”

“You promise you love me?” He nods. “Infinitely.” “And you want to be with me?” I frown. “Forever.” He nods again. “And I’m gonna be. We’re going to figure this out.”

“Anyone here surprised to learn that Beej is in love with Parks? Quick show of hands—” (“No,” “It’s terribly obvious,” “It’s actually all he talks about,” “I genuinely wish he loved her less,” they all say at the same time.) BJ looks over at me, eyes locked on mine, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of our friends. He’s grinning. And I stare at him, trying to look annoyed but everything is better with him, everything is fun, everything feels special, even being his stupid friend sounds like the time of my bloody life, and I want to pout at him, try to get him to give me my way, but he looks happy and I love him more than I love me, so I want him to be happy more than I want me to be happy. Besides. I give him a week.

AW

The ease between us is something else. Not everyone has an ease how we do. It’s not an easy relationship and she’s not an easy person to be with. That’s not what I mean, she’s a fucking nightmare 900% of the time, but the ease between us that’s probably a once in a lifetime kind of thing. The result of boarding school and trauma bonds and her heart on my sleeve and mine in her back pocket.

My dream girl to the bone. What a fucking time to be alive. Girl I love in my arms, I haven’t fucked up, she’s not hooking up with anyone for the single purpose of shredding my fucking soul, and we’re standing in the foyer of the house she grew up in, holding her how I used to when my mum would make me come home sometimes and Parks didn’t want me to leave.

They have different china for different days of the week. Today’s the Wednesday set. Parks’s favourite. Old Country Rose from Royal Albert. Hate myself a bit for knowing that but she’s prattled on about it for years now, told me it wouldn’t be our Wednesday but our Sunday china. Can’t wait for my Sundays with her.

looks like she’s fifteen again and my heart goes like a spinning top in my chest because I love her and she looks sad and this is news to me. Do you know how rare it is to learn something new about someone you’ve known for twenty years? Had no idea.

and try not to show it on my face that I’m dizzy with her near me like this.

very wet August.” I flick her in the arm and she peers up at me with shit-stirring eyes and holy fuck I love her. Fight the urge not to take her face in my hands and kiss her on the spot. Remind myself that we need to take it slow, reel in the slack so we don’t choke ourselves on it again. My face softens more than I want it to,

Parks’ cheeks go pink in a specific spot when I do ‘certain things’ to her, say things that make her heart go funny, touch her face, press my mouth against her ear — she’s done it forever.

“You… are the least ineffectual thing in my life.”

“This is how I always look at you,” she tells me and I’m telling you — that, right there, is the truth. As well as the reason why we got pregnant in high school.

I follow her because I know my role here. Whatever dress she’s wearing, she’ll need me. She’ll have picked a dress that needs my help to get in to. And out of. Old tricks of hers that I hope never die.

She turns around, smiles at me all perfect and bratty. She knows she looks too beautiful to be a normal part of the world. Everyone else on the planet is a sidewalk and she’s the flower growing out of the crack in it.

Maybe she just needs to be with me though? I look at her from over my shoulder, squint at her, a bit fucked up that she’s so beautiful. Annoying, actually. Kind of rude.

Lift her off the ground, push her backwards, and in a single move (because all the moves I have were learned on her body) I’ve got her on my waist, pressed up against the wall. It happens so fast. We know each other’s body how you know your way around your bedroom in the dark. I know where to find the light switch, I know what corners to watch out for, I know where to step for the floorboards to creak.

We finally (finally) pull up to the venue and it’s probably the happiest I’ve been in years. Parks with my family like no time has passed.

“I’m assuming you’ve got a plan here?” I nod at him once. “I’m playing for keeps.”

“It’ll work out, mate,” I call after him before giving her a look. She stares up at me, a bit defiant and beautiful. “How do you know?” I give her a look, squint a bit. “We’re in the stars, Parks.”

AW

“What are you doing here?” “What are you doing opening your own doors now?” I counter. He sniffs a laugh and wraps his arms around me a bit how he used to, chin on my head and everything. I find myself breathing out a little, like maybe I miss him some. Or maybe he just accidentally became a safe place for me.

they're cute without even trying

my eyes feeling timid and I wonder if he look a little bit sad. And the thought rattles through my mind only for a second, but I wonder whether perhaps I’ve had more loves than I knew of in this lifetime. For a moment I worry that Gus was maybe right.

“Firstly,” I give her an encouraging smile. “Congratulations! Despite the persisting rumours amongst our friends that we had sex, we did NOT and it seems as though he’s very good at it, so well done you—” She glares over at me. “Not the time? Okay, right, that’s fine—” I shake my head. Such a tough crowd. “Listen, Daisy, those boys are absolute fuckwits.” She flares at me suspiciously. “He sent you here to apologise?” “I suspect I was sent here as a diffuser.” I give her a sweet smile. “I have a very calming presence.” “You definitely don’t,” she tells me and I frown a lot. “Well, lots of people think I do.” “No.” She shakes her head. “Literally no one thinks that.” “Lots of people—” “—Name one,” she tells me. “BJ.” I give her a smug look. “That’s called dopamine. He’s high off of loving you.” She gives me an annoyed look. “There’s not one calming thing about you, you’re obsessive and infuriating and weird.”

LMFAO

I look over at Daisy and her eyes are welled up all teary. Mine are a bit too because that’s exactly what it is: a wordless kind of pain. Some sort of betrayal that goes deeper than words, the kind of ache that gives your heart’s knee a limp that it can’t ever quite shake.

“All of those boys are undeniably stupid and far too cavalier about sex. Except for when they’re in love—” I give her a look. “Somehow they’ve managed to distinguish sex with other people from sex with us.” She looks up at me, her bottom lip a bit wobbly. “It looked the same. Him with her. It looked like us.” I sigh, sad for her. “Maybe it did.” I shrug. “But it isn’t the same because he’s never loved her, he just loves you. And to them that’s the only part that counts.”

I haven’t done this in years but I’ve always loved it. Like picking her up is a public declaration that she’s mine.

But then I round the corner to her office and she’s not there. Stand in it for a minute anyway because I’m proud of her. She’s always wanted to work in fashion.

But sometimes I wonder how it’d feel to know what you want to do. The only thing I’ve ever been sure about is Parks.

AW

Kind of looks how she did in school, back when I thought I couldn’t love her more than I did at the time. Life is weird like that, how it lets you love to a breaking point but the breaking point is just more ways to love that person.

AHH

She’s browsing the store, I’m buying the store. Watch her with more focus than I would a film. We could call it making up for lost time because we’ve lost a lot of it but I’ve never stopped looking at her.

“It’s always been her.” I rest my head on Parks’s head, try to steady her crumbling heart.

People are staring. I want to kill them all. Last thing she needs is this on the internet too.

“But I love you more than I’m angry at you, so I need to figure it out.”