by J. L. Beck
Wyatt steps back, "Pretty boy? I'm no pretty boy babe. If you only knew how untrue that nickname is."
"Untrue? You are a pretty boy. Look at you Wyatt, It's Sunday, you're wearing a button-up collared shirt and nice jeans. I'm wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt. I bet your mom still picks out your clothes doesn't she?"
Lifting an eyebrow, he leans closer to me and says, "Peyton, no one picks out my clothes but me. However, if you'd like to apply for the position, I'll gladly let you play dress up with me."
Oh he knows how to push my buttons. Placing my hands on his very solid chest, I push him back. I'm not stupid; I know he let me push him back. He's so much taller, and so muscular, I know he could have easily stayed all up in my space but he moves back until we're no longer touching.
"You're an asshole, ya know that?" Gah, just when I think that maybe I should take Scarlett's advice, he shows his true colors and I remember why I don't want to like him.
He has a huge smirk on his face when he replies, "Whatever. C'mon pretty girl. Let's put your money where your mouth is."
Ugh. I just want to slap that smirk off his face. "Money? Who said we were playing for money?"
"It's just an expression, Peyton. We aren't playing for money." I start to relax, but his next words make me tense right back up, "We're playing for information."
"Information? What kind of information?" My voice actually squeaks at the end of the sentence. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. What kind of information could he possibly be interested in?
Wyatt grins, but it's not exactly friendly. It's more the smile a predator has right before it goes in for the kill, "Whomever wins gets to ask a question. The loser has to answer. You can't take a pass, there are no dares, just honest answers."
I'm now backed into a corner. I acted like I could beat him at these races, but I've never so much as sat down in a go-kart, let alone tried to drive one. If I back out now though, he'll think I'm a coward and I'll never live it down. Raising my chin, I agree to his terms and his smile widens. Shit. I'm so screwed.
It's finally our turn, and to make this even harder for me, we aren't the only ones racing. There are a total of eight cars, and I'm trying to remember all the nonsensical directions Wyatt gave me earlier. The employee shows Wyatt to his go-kart before coming back to direct me to the one right next to him. Wiping my clammy hands on my pants, I gingerly get into the contraption and am even more terrified than before. There isn't much protection in this itty-bitty thing. Hopefully they don't go very fast or I'm going to get hurt. But, Wyatt wouldn't bring me to something that could hurt me, right? Oh wait, I'm the dumbass who told him that I could steer one of these things. It really doesn't look that hard, and it can't be that much different than driving a car.
Once all eight cars are full and everyone is strapped in, the announcer tells us how we have to wait for the lights to turn green, just like in a Nascar race. Nascar? Really? We're comparing this to Nascar?!? I'm going to die.
Everyone starts their engine and Wyatt looks over at me, that self-satisfied smile on his face. The light turns from red to yellow, and my hands tighten on the steering wheel. It seems like a lifetime before the light changes to green, even though I know it's really only been like a second, and we're off!
The other racers immediately start jockeying for positions, as everyone knocks me into everything. One guy knocks into me so hard he spins me right into the wall. The race seems never-ending, and when we finally stop, I'm one of the first people out of my kart. I stomp right over to Wyatt and shove him as he gets out of his. His foot catches and he almost loses his balance, which would have been extremely satisfying, but he manages to right himself before he goes down.
"What the hell, Peyton?" he says, getting right up in my face. The big jerk doesn't scare me at all.
"Don't what the hell me. What the hell yourself!" I snarl. "You didn't tell me that everyone was going to try to kill me once we got out there! Why would you bring me here? Are you trying to cause bodily harm?" I'm so pissed off I'm damn near vibrating and Wyatt looks like he's torn between laughing or having his way with me. Swear to God, if he laughs I am going to junk punch him. It's a given. It will happen.
After studying me for a minute, Wyatt obviously decides to keep the laughter in, even though he has a small grin on his face. I'm even more upset now because the grin on his face makes me want to return it, but I'm so far beyond pissed. Or, at least I'm supposed to be.
Wyatt continues to look at me, saying nothing which makes me so mad I actually stomp my foot. That's the point where he loses it. "Did you just stomp your foot? What's next, laying on your belly throwing a full out temper tantrum?" he says between laughs.
"Augh!" I scream. He makes me so freaking mad! Poking him in the chest I tell him, "You've had your fun. Now, take me home!" Turning on my heel, I head for the exit walking as fast as I can. It still only takes him a few strides to reach me because the bastard's legs are so long.
"Hey, Peyton, wait." I ignore him, and he grabs my arm pulling me around to face him and forcing me to stop.
I glare at him, not saying a word and finally he sighs, running a hand through his messy brown hair. "I'm sorry," he says. "You said you knew what you were doing, so I didn't realize I had to tell you that's how it was going to be. I was just trying to give you pointers before we started to help you out and you acted like you understood. If I'd known you'd never been in a go-kart, I would've waited until that group went and asked Brian to let us go around alone."
My shoulders slump. He's right, I did tell him that I knew what I was doing, so why would he tell me what to expect. If anything, this information makes me even angrier. I'm just not sure if I'm angry at him or myself. Now I have to apologize for acting like a spoiled brat. Wonderful.
Squaring my shoulders, I meet his gaze, "You're right. I should have told you that this was my first time in a go-kart. I'm sorry."
He doesn't say anything at first, still processing everything I've said. Finally, he nods before one side of his mouth tips up and he says, "Well, now I guess you have to answer a question for me."
We head over to the concession area and Wyatt orders two drinks and some nachos before meeting me at the table. Sitting across from me, he hands me one of the sodas and places the nachos in the middle between us.
"So, what's your question?" I ask him tentatively.
At first he doesn't say anything. He just grabs a nacho, dipping it in the cheese before shoving the whole thing in his mouth. Gross!
"Hmm," he murmurs, "What exactly is your problem with me?"
Well that's direct. "I don't have a problem with you Wyatt."
Instead of responding, he glares at me. It takes everything I have not to squirm from the look in his eyes. When he finally speaks, his voice is cold. "What happened to you have to answer? Truth, Peyton."
Taking a minute to think about my answer, I finally sigh before telling him, "I don't have a problem with you. I just don't trust easily. I grew up in a family where I was the "oops" baby, the unwanted child and I could never do anything right. You already know some of this. My mom is pushy and she can get nasty. Sometimes I think she lives to make me miserable. You barely know me, but you seem determined to get under my skin and I can't figure out your agenda. Basically you make me nervous. Not all of us had perfect childhoods."
"Perfect childhoods?" Wyatt scoffs. "You think I had a perfect childhood?" I nod, and he shakes his head. "Peyton, you have no idea. My childhood was as far from perfect as it could get. I'm from a very small town, less than 5,000 people. I have no idea who my dad is; I have no idea who my little sister's dad is. My mom is known around town as being the town whore basically. I grew up in a tiny, two bedroom single wide trailer and half the time my clothes didn't even fit right." He stops to take a breath, and the look on his face makes my chest squeeze. Telling me this is obviously painful and I don't know what to say to make it better for him.
I start to speak, but he shakes his head,
"Please just let me finish." Wyatt takes a deep breath and continues, "The only thing I ever wanted was to get as far away from that town as I could. I worked my ass off to get a scholarship for school, and I work in addition to classes and basketball. Yes, I dress nicer than Clay and Emmett, but trust me, if you grew up wearing other people's hand me downs, you'd take damn good care of the things you were able to buy yourself. Now, I need to get you back to your car because I do have to work tonight."
Clearing my throat in an attempt to dislodge the lump that formed after hearing his story, I ask, "Where do you work?"
Standing to grab our trash, he says, "I'm a bartender at that bar we were at Friday. The blonde that I was dancing with got me the job because her brother owns the place. SB is friends with Emmett's girl, and last year they set us up on New Year's Eve. She has a thing for another guy though, has for a while, so nothing ever happened between us. Now we're just good friends."
Oh. Well, that explains them talking and dancing the other night. And, makes me feel like an even bigger bitch for throwing a fit and leaving because of it. I have so much to think about now, and all my pre-conceived notions about Wyatt have gone out the window.
Wyatt holds out his hand for me to take, "Ready?"
"Sure." I say, taking his hand.
He keeps hold of my hand all the way out to his truck, releasing it only when he opens the door and helps me in. Once he drops it, I miss the feel of his warm skin on mine. I'm doing everything I can to keep him at arms length but I don't know how long I can keep him there.
Come on Peyton!' Scarlett's voice is extremely loud coming through my door. It's entirely too early on a Saturday morning for her to be banging on my door. Even Kat groans before putting her pillow over her head in an attempt to drown her out. Maybe if I ignore her she'll go away.
Of course, my luck continues to suck because Scarlett and then Annabelle bang on my door for another five minutes before other people on the floor start yelling for it to stop. Shit! I'm going to have to open the door to avoid retaliation from the other people on this floor. Jumping up, I swing open the door and grab Scarlett's hand to pull her into my room.
"What the hell Scar?" My voice is beyond irritated at having to get up so early, but after this, I'm never going to fall back to sleep so I might as well see what she wants.
Both girls giggle before Scarlett says excitedly, "We are going to roommate bond today!"
"Uh, what? What exactly is roommate bonding?" I ask warily. Scarlett comes up with some really weird ideas, and I'm sure this isn't going to be any different.
She smirks, "We're going to help you and Kat be friends!" She looks proud of herself, and inwardly I'm groaning.
"Kat and I are doing just fine. We don't need to bond." I'm way too tired to deal with her this morning. Picking up my phone, I see that it's not even eight AM, and I was up until after five this morning trying to get my algebra homework finished.
Scarlett's grin dims, but she doesn't let anything I've said change her mind. Going over to Kat, who still has the covers pulled up over her head, Scarlett grabs the blanket and yanks it off of her. Kat yelps before scrambling to try to snatch it back.
"Come on Scarlett! Give it back! I'm tired." Kat's whining because she stumbled in drunk at a little after three this morning. Max practically had to carry her in before helping her into bed so I know she's got a hangover from hell.
Annabelle, who up to this point hasn't said or done anything, rolls her eyes at all of us. "You know she isn't going to just go away. You should both just give up and get ready to go."
Shoulders slumping in defeat, I know Annabelle's right. If I suck it up and go do whatever she has planned for this "bonding" session, maybe I'll be able to come back and get some studying done, or take a nap.
"Fine," Kat and I both tell them, neither of us sounding very happy about it, before gathering up our shower kits and leaving them to wait for us.
By the time Kat and I have both had our showers and are more awake Scarlett is damn near bouncing off the walls with energy and excitement. Leaning over, I tell Kat quietly, "I think she forgot her meds today, don't you?"
Kat nods, covering her mouth to muffle her laughter as Scarlett beams at us. "Oh, you guys are bonding already!" she says clapping her hands.
"Yeah, bonding over the fact that you need medication," I tell her, nudging her with my elbow. As much as I don't want to, I can't help but grin back at Scarlett. She's just too happy for me to stay pissed off at her.
Shoving my shoulder she says with a laugh, "Hey, I'll take what I can get!" Then, opening the door she gestures for us all to leave. She's the last one out the door after exchanging a look with Annabelle.
Since this is Scarlett's show, we take her car. She doesn't tell us where we're going or what the plan for the day is, but knowing her, she's been planning it for days. It only takes us about 15 minutes to reach our first destination, a really funky little cafe close to downtown Nashville.
Unlike me, Scarlett, Kat and Annabelle all grew up in this area, so when we pull up, Kat's excited. "Oh!," she says, "I love this place!"
Walking in, the place is a blend of rustic and modern with cream-colored walls and columns made out of varying shades of wood squares. Each table is dark, almost black, as are the chairs. The place is busy, full of people eating, socializing and laughing, although we're able to find a table close the back of the room to sit.
After we place our orders, Scarlett starts asking Kat questions about the sister we met last weekend. Kat tells her that Anna went to college in New York City, and works for an entertainment magazine here in town as a photographer.
"So," Scarlett starts, looking way too eager about what she's about to ask, "What's the deal with you and Max?"
Kat looks distressed, but I'm just happy Scarlett's not bugging me about Wyatt so I sit back and enjoy watching someone else getting the third degree. She bites her lip, looking everywhere but the three of us before finally sighing. "Max and I went to high school together. We've known each other since we were kids and I've had a crush on him since middle school. He's never seen me as anything but a friend." She's frowning, and I can't help but feel bad for her. She's been in the friend zone for years, and has no idea how to get out of it.
Scarlett leans forward, glad she has something juicy to discuss. She loves relationship angst and is constantly reading romance novels. I swear, the girl spends more time with her Kindle than she does going on actual dates. "Really? You guys have never hooked up? Not even just a kiss?"
Kat shakes her head, her misery obvious. "Nope. The only kisses he's ever given me are on the cheek, or the top of my head. He and Clay both played football in high school, and never had to work to get girls."
She blushes as she starts telling us about all the times Max would drag her along as the third wheel on a date, or times he would set her up with his friends. He's completely oblivious to the pain he causes her. By the time she's done, I'm not sure if I want to hug her or go kick him in the balls. Locking eyes with Scarlett, I can see she feels the same way. Annabelle hasn't said much so far this morning, but she reaches across the table to grasp Kat's hand in support.
Finally, Kat forces a grin, "Anyway, enough about my dismal dating life. What else are we doing today?"
Scarlett lets her off the hook, and says, "Well, there's an beginner yoga class thing a couple blocks from here this morning that I thought we could try out, and then later tonight, there's a spring fashion show and concert downtown." Looking around the table at each of us, she asks, "Is that okay with everyone?"
We all agree to her idea, after all, it's better than spending the day doing homework or bumming around the dorm. We hurry to finish eating so we can head over to this yoga class while Scarlett tells us all about the date she had last night.
After a full day of yoga, fashion and loud country music, we get back to the dorms to find Max sitting on one of the benches outside. Kat frowns before hurrying over to him, leaving Scarlett,
Annabelle and I to exchange confused glances.
When we reach Kat and Max, they are having a heated argument. "Where have you been all day?" Max sounds pissed, but none of us know why.
"I was hanging out with friends, Max," Kat says quietly, trying to placate him. Max doesn't look any happier though, if anything he looks more upset.
Standing up, he towers over Kat, grasping her arms before spitting out, "I've been calling and texting you all day. I thought we could hang out today."
Kat looks down, obviously embarrassed, and I'm torn between letting them have some privacy and defending her. She shouldn't feel guilty for hanging out with other people, and I can't help but wonder if he's jealous that she has friends other than him. She told us earlier that she had a hard time making friends with girls in school because she spent so much time with Max. Girls would start rumors about their relationship out of jealousy and she's pretty shy as a result. It makes me feel even worse about being such an ass to her at first.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I forgot my phone this morning. We were in a hurry to leave and I didn't think about it." She looks close to tears, but Max hasn't relented at all.
Unable to hold it in any longer, I step closer to them. Max cuts his eyes to me, looking extremely unfriendly. "What do you want?" he snarls, dropping Kat's arms to face me.
Straightening my spine, I glare at him. "Stop making her feel like shit. You're her friend, not her keeper. If she wants to go out without her phone and spend time with friends other than you, that's her prerogative." Poking him in the chest, I step even closer. "Look at her!" I snap, gesturing to where Kat's standing, her head still down and looking like she's going to start crying any moment. "She's your best friend right? Yet, she's standing there feeling guilty because she wasn't here to jump when you said how high. That's bullshit Max!"