“She’s not okay,” Demi says.
I shake my head.
“Don’t hold this against her,” Demi speaks to my back as I walk through the room and stop, staring at the two doors, having no idea which one is hers.
“Left,” Demi guides me and opens the door.
“What do you mean, don’t hold it against her?” I ask.
“She’s going through a lot.”
I grunt and gently lay her onto the bed, tucking the blanket around her body.
“Get her some Advil and water,” I tell Demi, “and she couldn’t do a single thing that I would hold against her.”
Demi’s brows shoot up, but I don’t give her time to question me. The boys are waiting in the truck and in silence, we head back to the house.
_
The following morning I’m up and out the house before I can be questioned. The guys wanted answers last night, demanding they know exactly what happened with Peyton and who upset her but I claimed tiredness and told them I’d explain today.
Problem was, I had no explanation.
I don’t know why she was upset. I don’t know why her seeing me with Nina sent her over the edge and I certainly haven’t an idea as to why I turned full caveman and hauled her ass out of there.
The gym is empty this early on a Saturday morning and I use the time to work the frustrations from my body, unwinding my coiled muscles as I lift weights.
Music blares in my ears, a heavy Avenged Sevenfold song and for once, my mind is gloriously blank.
Here, I can pretend everything in my life is fine. Normal. I can pretend I’m not some broken asshole who hurts everyone around him.
After my muscles burn and I can’t lift anymore, I head to the treadmill and begin my run, the pound of my feet against the belt matching the tempo of the music in my ears. Suddenly a hand slaps down on the stop button and I lurch to a stop, catching the bars so I don’t trip. My head whips to the side to see Ash standing there, his face battered, left eye bruised and swollen shut.
Shit. I did that.
“We need to talk,” he growls.
I pluck the headphones from my ears and cock a brow, did he come here for round two?
“What do you want?”
“She your girl?” Ash asks.
I grind my molars, “She’s off limits.”
“Is she your girl?” He repeats.
“She’s no one’s girl,” I snap, “Peyton is so much more than that. She doesn’t belong to anyone but herself.”
Ash studies me, “I’ll back off.”
My head snaps back, “What?”
He shrugs, “We’ve been friends a long time Fletcher, alright, not the best of buddies but we’re team mates. She means something to you. I’ll back off. I’ll tell the guys too, that she is off limits.”
I hang my head, my hands gripping the bar in front of me. My heart pounds heavily inside my chest, thump, thump, against my ribcage.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, “About this,” I gesture to his face in a roundabout way with my finger.
He snorts, “I deserved it. Looks like I got a good hit in though.” He’s talking about the darkening bruise above my brow, the area only slightly swollen in comparison to his bee stung face.
“Could have been better,” I tease.
“You’re alright, Fletch,” he laughs, “though, the moment you fuck it up with little Miss McKenna, I’m swooping in. Fair warning.”
I growl in his direction and he just laughs, holding his hands up in surrender before backing up slowly and disappearing through the door.
He was wrong though, she wasn’t my girl. She never would be.
‘I don’t belong to you!”
‘Yes you fucking do!’
I slap my palm against the button, restarting the machine, and pound my legs at a furious speed as if I can just run away. Run away from the past, the present, run away from her face that haunts my every waking moment and taunts me in my dreams.
If only it were that easy.
If only any of this was that easy.
“Fuck!” I bellow at the top of my lungs to the empty room around me, my voice a boom that ricochets off the windows that look onto the campus grounds.
I should just walk away, leave Peyton as she is, that way I’ll do less harm but I can’t seem to stop. I went three years able to avoid her, able to look away from those icy blue eyes that have always seen me and now, a few weeks and I’m back, on my knees in front of her.
She was going to be my destruction.
My end.
And there wasn’t a damn thing I was going to do to stop it.
Thirteen
Shame.
That’s what I feel right now. So much freaking shame and embarrassment.
I’m glad I have a hangover, it’s punishment for my behavior last night. My cheeks heat.
I preferred not remembering when I first woke up this morning, my head pounding, stomach churning with that glorious black spot in my memory that clouded my actions last night. Now however, as I sip at my coffee, still tucked in my bed, the memories of the night before creeping in, I can’t stop my cheeks from burning and stomach churning, not from nausea but from pure cringe. I groan loudly and push my face into my pillow.
I just need to hide from everyone forever.
I can’t believe I allowed Ash to pour tequila into my mouth and then freaking danced with him. For what? To get back at Fletcher? He didn’t do anything and yet my warped jealously made me believe he truly had.
How much can I blame the alcohol I wonder.
The tequila made me do it.
For some reason, I don’t think that’s a good excuse.
My bedroom door opens and Demi saunters in, her arms full of junk food. “Move up,” she demands, dropping the goods onto my bed.
“I just need to bury myself and hide,” I moan.
“It’s not that bad,” Demi rolls her eyes.
“It is!” I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, “He carried me out. On his shoulder. After I let someone pour tequila into my mouth whilst I was led on the fucking kitchen counter, Demi. And then he punched someone.”
Demi shrugs, “Sounds very caveman.”
‘I don’t belong to you.’
‘Yes you fucking do!’
My stomach squeezes. What did he mean by that? Granted, the whole display was mortifying but that right there, the pure conviction in his tone, in his words, the way he looked at me, it had heat burning its way through my body, settling deep into my core.
I grab a bag of chips and rip them open, stuffing a handful of the salty goodness into my mouth. Demi laughs at me, shaking her head.
“The way he held you,” she sighs, “It was like he wanted to wrap himself the entire way around your body and never let you go.”
My mouth drops open, all the embarrassment leaving my body, being replaced by heat and desire.
“What?” I stammer.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she swoons, “he just held, like so tight and put you to bed like you were the most precious thing in the world. I don’t think your feelings are one sided.”
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry and it hurts with the chips scratching their way down my throat. I shake my head, “No, you can’t be right. Fletch doesn’t look at me like that.”
She cocks a brow, “When I am ever wrong? I see everything, remember?”
She wasn’t wrong. She saw things most didn’t, saw through people’s exteriors, their masks they wore to hide from people. It was how we became friends. At the beginning, I tried to keep my distance and maintain this happy façade for the world around me to see but after a week of living together, she knocked it all away and had me crying on the sofa for hours, exposing everything.
Could she really have seen Fletcher that way?
I pull my lip into my mouth, “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure, chick,” she softens, “he loves you.”
“He’s
always loved me, we were best friends.”
She looks down and shrugs, “It might be deeper than that, I can’t be sure but I’m certain you mean more to him than just a friend and friends don’t go claiming people like he did last night.”
I pout, “I don’t belong to anyone.”
She snorts and shakes her head.
“Enough talk about it,” I grab the chocolate, “I need to forget about my mess from last night.”
She grins, “I’ve got just the thing.”
She climbs from the bed and heads out for a minute, coming back with her laptop and Netflix loaded on the screen.
“Give me a suggestion.”
“No romances,” I demand.
She loads up a horror flick with plenty of gore on the cover and we settle in my bed, a pile of junk food between us. The film starts with so much gore and horror, my behavior from last night is long forgotten.
_
I don’t leave my dorm at all on Sunday and during class Monday, I sit at the back, the hood of my sweater up as I avoid eye contact. I’m sure people have seen much worse at college parties but I don’t like that I had joined the masses to embarrass themselves in front of their classmates.
At the end of the day, before I can scurry off to hide until tomorrow, when I was due to go back home seeing as I had no classes on a Tuesday, I’m grabbed from behind and spun so quickly my head wobbles.
A little squeal escapes my mouth, but a familiar face comes into view and I swat his chest, “Decker! You scared me!”
“You’re ignoring us,” he accuses.
True. The boys, well Colt and Decker had text me on numerous occasions but I had read them off, too ashamed to explain my actions. It’s not even like I can tell them why I flipped out. They’d just think I’m crazy and they definitely wouldn’t understand the jealousy.
I’m still jealous, remembering Nina hauling herself at him, pressing her red stained lips against his, slipping her tongue inside. I saw it all. She may as well have stripped off her clothes and dry humped his leg.
It’s still not an excuse.
“I’m not ignoring you,” I lie, brushing my hair from my face, “Just getting ready for the break.”
He narrows his eyes at me. So fierce. So loyal.
He’d destroy anyone who dare hurt me, a far cry from the boy I met in middle school. Decker was broken, he didn’t trust anyone other than his sister Savannah, Colt and Fletcher.
He was hurt. A lot. Something a child should never have to endure but he got through, with the help of his friends and even me eventually.
I hate to imagine what would have happened to him had Colt’s family not taken him in when they did. Him and Savannah.
It took us months to bond but when we did, holy hell, I got myself a brother I never knew I needed.
I still see the haunted look he gets sometimes, when he’s remembering all he went through but he always comes out of it. I knew most of it but not all. No one knew it all. He’s happy now. Healthy.
“You can’t lie to me, Peyton,” he sighs, “we’ve been through a hell of a lot together, you forget I’ve seen all of you, every side and I’ve known you long enough to pick up your tells when you lie.”
I drop my eyes to the pavement, “Please, not today. Not now.”
“Whatever it is, Peyton, you can tell me.”
I shake my head, not ready to vocalize to him.
What would he think of me?
Would he hate me? Think I’m a despicable person?
I couldn’t handle that, not from him or from Colt.
“There’s something going on here, I don’t know what it is, but both you and Fletcher are acting weird.”
I swallow. Fletcher was acting weird? Was it because of me?
“We’ll see each other over the break?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Yeah,” Decker pushes a hand through his hair.
“Okay, I’ll see you then,” I smile, giving him an awkward hug as I duck away to hide some more.
I needed to get a grip.
I can’t be selfish, this is bigger than me and my ridiculous crush. Because that’s all it was, right? A silly little crush I just haven’t gotten over since middle school.
I snort my laugh, finding absolute zero humour in it.
I am so fucked.
Fourteen
Before I do anything, see anyone, I have a date.
It’s not what you think. I’ve made a tradition of visiting Tyler every holiday. Even if it is just for five minutes or an hour. It’s my way of remembering him.
I’m not sure if I believe in something after we die but I’d hate to think he thinks we’ve forgotten about him.
I lean across the car and pick up the fresh bouquet of flowers I had bought from the store on the way and as I step out I tilt my face to the sun. It wasn’t warm, not by a long shot but it wasn’t wet and windy either so I was taking this as a win.
My sneakers crunch over the gravel as I make my way through the cemetery, birds chirping loudly in the trees that line the churchyard.
The church itself is a huge, grey looming building with moss growing around the bottom portion and stained glass windows that reflect the sun, a prism of colors dancing across the green lawn.
Tyler’s set a little way back, his gravestone nestled close to one of the great oaks. It was a plot we all chose together, a way to remember his love of climbing. The oak outside his house had been climbed so many times by him I’m sure the tree itself mourned his loss.
“Hey Ty,” I mumble, stopping in front of the stone.
It was a very pale grey, speckled with black stones that sparkled in the sun. It was pristine in comparison to the other headstones that jutted from the ground, aged and crumbling. I knew Mrs. Dallas came down once a week and kept his plot clean and tidy, raking away the leaves and brushing away the grime that threatened to mar his otherwise perfect headstone.
Tyler Dennis Dallas
Son, Brother, Friend.
Gone but forever in our hearts
2000 – 2018
It was the dates that got me. Eighteen years. That’s all he got to live. It’s not long enough. He never got to see graduation, he never got to live out his college football dreams and his hopes of making it big one day.
Tyler had a presence about him, he deserved the spotlight, whether that be playing football or doing something else.
“It’s been a little while,” I continue, running my fingers over the top of the headstone, “I’m sorry about that but I guess life gets a little busy.”
I drop down, ignoring the wetness that instantly seeps through the knees of my jeans, the ground sopping from a recent rainfall. It’s icy against my skin.
I lay the flowers near the stone, propping them up so the buds can see the sun, not that they’ll last long without a vase of water. Mrs. Dallas will likely come by in a few days and dispose of them.
“I don’t know why I bring flowers,” I laugh, “you hated them. Said they messed with your allergies, but you didn’t have any allergies you just didn’t like the smell. Maybe this is my way of getting back at you for all the times you didn’t buy me flowers, but I guess that’s not fair is it?” I pause, “You made it up and bought me coffee and donuts instead.”
My throat bobs as I fight the tears that always come when I visit here. It never gets easier.
“I miss you, Ty.”
A light wind blows through the cemetery right then, teasing my hair enough for it to whisper against my neck, my shoulders, sending a wave of goose bumps over my skin. I’d like to believe it was him, telling me it’s okay, telling me that he misses me – us – too.
A stray tear slips from my eye and rolls down my cheek. I swat it away.
“Look at me,” I shake my head, “I’ll be a mess and mom won’t let me live it down. Eric’s parents are spending time with us for thanksgiving this year but tomorrow night is reserved for your family. Your mom invited me over for dinner, just like ol
d times. I’m a little nervous actually, it’s been so long since we did this, truthfully we haven’t done it since you left us.”
Fletcher( Boys of HGU #1) Page 7