CHAPTER 2
Sawyer
Liam and Peyton.
My boyfriend and my best friend.
Naked on that bed.
A small sob escapes me as tears flow down my cheeks. I continue to walk, wiping them harshly.
The night is cold. The road ahead of me is dark. And it will probably take me an hour to reach home, but I don't care about any of it. I couldn't stay another minute at Carson's. I had to get out of there. I need to be as far from them as possible.
Oh, God. I'm going to be sick. How long have they been cheating on me and Parker? How long have we been clueless?
And to think I finally decided to lose my virginity to Liam. I thought it was time to give him what he had been asking for over a year now. The thought gives me pause. Is that the reason why he cheated on me? Because he was tired of waiting?
“Well, screw him!” I cry out.
The headlights of an approaching vehicle hit me from behind, startling me. Wiping my tear-streaked cheeks, I turn around to see a black Lexus sedan stopping beside me.
I know this car. I’ve been inside it a few times—and always with Liam.
The driver-side window rolls down, and sure enough I see a familiar face. “Parker?"
His dark, cloudy eyes settle on mine. “Get in.”
I don’t even think twice. I round to the passenger side and get in without a word.
The air is thick with silence as we coast down the road, neither of us in the mood to break it. Both of us still reel from the shock of Liam and Peyton’s betrayal.
Did Parker beat Liam up? For a brief moment, worry settles in my chest. But I quickly brush it off, remembering what my boyfriend did.
No. Ex-boyfriend.
I have to get used to that.
My phone vibrates in my purse and I pull it out, hoping it's not him. I don’t want him to hear me crying over what he did.
Thankfully, it's not Liam. Just Brayden calling.
I sniffle, rejecting the call and turning off my phone. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. Glancing up, I notice Parker making a turn for my street.
“Wait,” I stop him. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
He stops the car, staring at me with a frown. Sometimes I forget how intense Parker's eyes can be.
I swallow hard. “I don’t care where we go. Just…I don’t want my family to see me like this.”
I can’t have Dad and Avery asking me what's wrong the moment they see me. I won’t be able to keep the tears at bay. I’ll be forced to talk about what happened, and that's the last thing I want right now.
Nodding tersely, Parker cranks the car back up and zips past my house.
“Thanks,” I mutter and rest my head against the seat, looking out the window.
It's true what I said—I don’t care where he takes me. If it were up to me, we would drive as far from here as possible.
But I don’t think Parker shares the same sentiment. Even though he's gripping the steering wheel pretty tight.
Several minutes later, he turns off the engine of his car. We're at the beach but thankfully nowhere near Carson’s house. Judging by how deserted this part is, I guess we're at the edge of town.
Fine with me. I'm not in the mood to socialize.
Turning to Parker, who has remained silent the whole time, I boldly ask, “Do you have something to drink?”
He gives me a wary look. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Maybe so. But I don’t care.
“Don’t you want to forget? I’m not the only one who’s been cheated on tonight,” I point out bluntly.
He stiffens, his jaw clenching, but doesn’t respond to that.
I feel bad for rubbing it in his face. But isn't that the reason why we're here? To commiserate about what happened? Well, wallowing in self-pity isn’t complete without alcohol.
Without a word, he darts out of the car. And I watch as he goes to pop open the trunk at the back. When he slides back inside, he's already holding a six-pack can of Corona.
He hands it over to me. “Suit yourself.”
“You’re going to make me drink all of these?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You think you can?”
It feels a little weird that I'm having this kind of conversation with him. He's Liam’s best friend, but we're not particularly close. To me and everyone else, Parker Holloway is an enigma. He's quiet, brooding and impossibly intimidating.
His thick, russet brown hair is short and tailored, like that of a rich, no-nonsense executive of a Fortune 500 company. His eyes, the same color as his hair, seem to be locked in perpetual glare. His thick eyebrows are usually pulled together in a frown, his lips often pursed in a thin line.
You'd have better luck winning a five-dollar scratch card than see him smile.
He towers at six-four—and has a lean, muscular frame, thanks to being on the swim team—which only adds to his commanding personality. Quinn once commented that he looks more of a grown-up than a teenage boy. While Peyton often complains about him being too mature for his age.
Is that why she went for Liam? Because he's the perfect embodiment of a teenage boy?
Anger swirling inside me, I open one Corona harshly and take a long pull.
I've changed my mind. Tonight, I'm going to get drunk.
*******
“I don’t get it. Why did Peyton cheat on you? You’re hotter than Liam. More popular, too. Everyone knows that.”
If I were sober, I would've been mortified by the words coming out of my mouth. But I'm not, so I currently don’t care.
Besides, Liam lost my loyalty the moment he slept with my best friend. I don’t have to feel any guilt for demeaning him. He deserves worse than that from me.
I'm about to take another swig of Corona when Parker grabs it from my hand. “I think you’ve had enough. Your cheeks already look like peaches.”
“Shut up. I’m only on my third.” I snatch it from him, quickly guzzling it down before he can stop me again. Afterwards, a loud burp escapes from my lips, causing me to burst out laughing.
“Damn it, Sawyer. You’re drunk.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I mock, my words slurring. “Why don’t you join me instead of being a buzzkill?”
While I drown myself in Corona, he remains annoyingly sober.
He scowls at me.
I point my nearly empty beer can at him. “Peyton’s right. You’re boring.”
He looks at me like I just punched him. “She said that?”
Shame courses through me. “No. I was just being mean.” I just wanted to lash at someone. Anyone. Tears spring to my eyes and my lips tremble. “I’m sorry.”
Then I lose it. I break down in the front seat of Parker Holloway’s car. My shoulders shake as sobs wrack through my body. I thought I was done crying but the tears continue to fall. And I can’t stop them no matter how hard I try.
Parker lets out a curse, making me flinch. But then he suddenly hauls me against his chest, letting me cry there, giving my back soothing pats as I flood his shirt with my tears.
We stay like that for a while. His chest steadily rises and falls, calming me until my tears subside. Until the only sound that can be heard is the quiet hum of the AC and the distant crashing of the waves on the shore.
Silently, I wiggle away and settle back into my seat, wiping at my cheeks. I can’t believe I cried into Parker’s chest. Embarrassed, I flick my gaze to his shirt and cringe—it’s soaked with tears and streaks of mascara.
Oh, God. I probably look like a racoon right now. Hell, I probably already looked like a racoon when he pulled me over.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I can wash it at home,” I offer, my cheeks flaming as I fish out some wipes from my clutch to swipe at my eyes.
He gives me a funny look. “It’s just a shirt, Peaches.”
A very expensive shirt. And Peaches, really?
Nodding simply, I take another pull of m
y beer. Then lick some of the residue from my lips. “Do you think...they regret what they did? That they feel bad for hurting us?”
He laughs darkly. “Do you honestly believe that was the first time they'd done it?”
I shake my head, my shoulders sagging. “No.”
It’s probably been going on for a while. Tonight wasn’t the first time Liam acted cold and distant. He’s been that way for weeks. I was just too dumb to see it for what it was.
“I was finally ready to do it with him, you know. He’s been persistent in convincing me to sleep with him for over a year now. I told him to wait and I thought he did,” I scoff. “Apparently, he’s been occupying himself all this time.”
And with my best friend, no less. God, how could Peyton do this to me? She's more than my best friend. I've always seen her as a sister—sometimes, even more than Avery. Now it turns out she never felt the same way.
Has she been laughing and mocking me behind my back? Has she been taking great pleasure in knowing that she's sleeping with my boyfriend? Is this some kind of a sick game to her?
Suddenly, I have the urge to vomit.
“That’s not what he said.” A strange look crosses Parker’s face when I snap my eyes back to him.
“Why? What did he say?” But the look on his face says it all—Liam has been telling everyone we're already having sex. “That fucking asshole.”
If Parker was surprised to hear me curse, he doesn’t show it.
“I guess I should consider myself lucky, huh?” I sneer. “For dodging a bullet.”
He sighs. “He’s an idiot.”
I stare at him. “Why aren’t you looking so brokenhearted about this? You’re just being your usual brooding self. There's nothing new there. But you look hardly affected by what happened.”
Although he did manage to punch Liam in the face before I ran out of the party. Did he beat him up, pouring out all of his anger in the process? Is that why he doesn’t look miserable now?
Maybe I should have done that, too—beat up both Liam and Peyton. It seems to have been therapeutic for Parker.
“What’s the point? What’s done is done. Dwelling over it is a waste of time. We can’t change what happened.”
I snort. “That is such a guy thing to say.”
A small smirk pulls at the corners of his lips, but he doesn't comment.
Maybe his relationship with Peyton wasn't as serious as I thought. Just like my relationship with Liam hadn't been as strong as I was led to believe.
A twinge of pain lances my chest, reminding me that unlike Parker, I can’t be indifferent about the whole thing. Their betrayal hurts so much that I can’t pretend otherwise—no matter how hard I try to drown the truth and numb the pain with alcohol.
CHAPTER 3
Sawyer
I wake up to the sun hitting my face and my head pounding painfully, making me groan. Did Mildred come into my room again and draw the curtains to wake me up? But it's Sunday. There's no school, and it's her day-off.
Grumbling under my breath, I open my eyes and stumble out of my bed to close the curtains before falling back on top of my covers.
Wait, I'm in my room? But I don’t remember coming home last night. In fact, the last thing I remember is guzzling down my fourth can of Corona and Parker trying to take it from me.
We never left his car. So why am I here? Did I pass out and he took me home? Oh God, did he carry me up to my room?
I cover my face with my hands and groan aloud as memories from last night flood my mind. Getting into Parker's car after storming out of Carson's house. Telling him to take me anywhere but home. Coaxing him to drink with me and calling him boring when he refused. Ugly crying into his shirt. Twice.
Ugh. How humiliating.
God, I hope I didn’t puke in his car. That would make everything even more mortifying.
“Good. You’re awake.”
I sit up so fast that my head spins and the pain in my skull intensifies. I have a hangover. Awesome.
“Here. Take this.” Avery hands me an Advil and a glass of water.
Giving her a grateful look, I pop the capsule into my dry mouth and down it with water. Then I slip out of bed and head to our shared bathroom down the hall. After relieving my bladder, I make quick work of washing my face and brushing my teeth. Then cringe after taking a good look in the mirror. My hair is practically a bird’s nest, my eyes are puffy from crying, and the scent of smoke and alcohol is still strong on my skin.
I look like a damn mess, but nothing like a hot shower can't fix. The heartbreak churning inside me, on the other hand? Not even a thousand showers will be able to mend it.
But I don't want to think about that right now.
Avery is lying on my bed—which she already tidied up—when I get back to my room twenty minutes later. Her attention is focused on her phone so I walk past her as I towel off my hair, stepping into my walk-in closet to put on some clean clothes.
I'm combing my hair when I step back out, only to stop dead when I find my sister smirking at me. “Parker Holloway, huh?”
I press my lips into a thin line. I knew there was a reason why she's still here. Setting my hairbrush on the nightstand, I ask, “Did you open the door for him last night?”
She sits up and crosses her legs. “You should be thankful it was me and not Dad. You were passed out. You didn’t even move when he tucked you in your bed.”
Oh, I'm thankful. Dad wouldn’t have lectured about getting drunk, but he would have given me a disappointed look for sure. Which is worse.
“Thanks.” And I mean it.
“I know it’s smart to hook up with a guy hotter than your ex. But do you think it was a good idea to do it on the same night you broke up with Liam?”
I stiffen. “You know about that?”
She wasn’t even at the party. High school parties are beneath her now that she's in college.
“Of course I do. It’s all over my socials. Hell, even Reddit. Everyone’s talking about it.”
I grimace. But what did I expect? That everyone who was there would keep it a secret? If there's one thing teenagers love aside from sex and alcohol-fueled parties, it's hot gossip. Especially if it involves a popular jock and an equally popular cheerleader.
“I’d ask how you were holding up, but considering Parker took you home…” She trails off, her perfectly shaped brow arched.
“Nothing happened, okay?” I flop down on the bed. “We didn’t even kiss.”
“Nothing at all?” Avery looks disappointed. Did she actually want to hear that I hooked up with Parker?
“You said it wasn’t a good idea.”
“I never said I thought it was.”
I roll my eyes.
“So what did you two do last night if you didn’t hook up?”
“Nothing. We just drove to the beach and got drunk. Well, I got drunk. I don’t remember him touching the beer.”
“And he didn’t take advantage of you? What a gentleman.”
I give her an incredulous look. Why would he? “Do guys do that in uni?”
She shrugs carelessly. “Some of them.”
My eyes widen. “Were you—”
“Hell, no!”
I blow out a relieved breath. The possibility of my sister being taken advantage at some party makes me sick.
Avery and I don't have a very close relationship, but I love her just the same. Physically and personality-wise, we're polar opposites. While I took after Mom's Filipino features—black hair, black almond-shape eyes, olive skin, average height—Avery looks a lot like Dad. She stands at five-nine, has a fair complexion, and her hair is a dark blonde color. And like Dad, her eyes are medium-brown.
While I'm quiet and laid-back, she's just like Quinn—vibrant and full of life. Which is why when Avery was still in high school, they were always mistaken for being sisters. And people were surprised to know that I'm actually the one related to Avery.
“The trick is to not accept dr
inks from anyone but your trusted friends. And make sure you’re just tipsy and not flat-out drunk.” She gives me a disapproving look at the end of that sentence.
I’d like to think I got drunk carelessly because I trusted Parker. But I suspect I would've still done the same even if it was some other guy. I wanted to drown my sorrow with alcohol and that was what I did. Tried to do, anyway. Because the pain is still there. And I don’t think it's going to go away even if I guzzle down a whole keg.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say softly.
Avery stares at me, her features softening. “But how are you holding up? Seriously?”
I give a wry smile. “Like what you can expect from someone who’s been cheated on by her boyfriend with her best friend.”
“Peyton is such a bitch,” she sneers. “You know, I never really liked that girl. I’ve always wondered why. Well, now, I know. I say good riddance, sis.”
I sputter out a laugh. To be honest, it makes me feel a little better.
Avery smiles as she rises from the bed. “Come on. Get your pretty little hungover butt up. It’s time for lunch.” Reaching the doorway, she glances back. “By the way, Quinn called this morning, asking if you got home safely. She wanted you to call her back. That girl is so demanding.” There's fondness in her voice even as she rolls her eyes. Because unlike Peyton, she actually likes Quinn.
I guess that should have clued me in.
*******
The mouth-watering smell of kare-kare makes my stomach rumble as I step into the dining room, seeing Dad and Avery already seated at the table, with Duke looking hopeful for scraps at Dad’s feet.
Kare-kare had been one of Mom’s favorite dishes, so Dad makes it a point to cook it every once in a while.
And I always look forward to it. There's something about the aroma of this Filipino dish that takes me back to the days when Mom was still alive. It feels like she's still here with us.
“Everything okay, kid?” Dad inquires as he passes the bowl of kare-kare to me.
When We Fall Page 2