“I don’t know. If I knew, I wouldn’t be Peyton Giordano,” he says, looking at the desert menu.
“Giordano. I love your last name. It makes me want lasagna or something,” I say, teasing him.
He laughs that beautiful laugh and says, “Well, my dad is Italian. As you can see from the hair, I took after my mom’s side.”
“Which is Mason’s side, right?”
“Yeah. She was his dad’s sister. They were really close, kind of like you and Jackson. That’s one of the reasons why I push for you to speak to him. My mom and Brian, Mason’s dad, didn’t really speak much after she married Karson. It wasn’t because they didn’t love each other anymore; it was just that Karson monitored who she spoke to because he didn’t want her to tell anyone what was going on with them—especially Brian. I guess maybe he knew Brian would kill him or something. You know, they still don’t know that’s why my mom died. They think it was just some tragic accident. They don’t know that Karson would hit us and that she was running away from him. The only one who knows is Mason, and he promised to keep it a secret—even though he was angry because my mom was his favorite aunt.”
I watch as the pain returns to Peyton’s eyes. It’s so strong that the sorrow reflects back to me.
“I know you don’t like people to say it, but I’m sorry, Peyton. I really am.”
“It’s all right,” he whispers with hurt in his voice.
“Have you ever thought of speaking to someone about this? I mean, you’ve experienced a lot of hurt, and I know that it’s hard for you to deal with it sometimes,” I risk saying.
He looks up at me with anger. It’s a look I have never seen on his face before. I am scared.
“Have you ever thought about talking to someone about Tyler?” he asks with a raised voice.
“Peyton, calm down. It was just a question! And, yes, I have. It’s not so bad to speak with someone. I think it’s great that you confide in me and I’m glad we can be there for each other, but we may need more.”
I’m afraid to speak anymore. His look is like ice. Cold and hard.
“I mean, with everything that’s happened with Karson, your mom, and now your dad, Peyton, you really should—”
“Taylor, will you shut the hell up?” he shouts.
“Peyton, people are—”
“Staring? I don’t give a damn! Let them stare!”
“Peyton, please—”
“No! Don’t tell me what I should do or what would be good for me. You can’t give me advice when you’re just as fucked up as I am, if not more!”
I am speechless, but not in the same way Mason makes me. This is different. I am hurt and embarrassed. I want my Peyton back. This boy yelling at me is a stranger, and I have definitely never met him. Not even for a split second.
“Peyton, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Anything by it? Yeah, whatever. I’m leaving. Call a taxi!” he says, throwing money on the table.
I cry as I watch him leave. The waitress comes back to see if I’m okay. I tell her I am and ask her if she can cancel the order. I pay the full price anyway. I just think it’s the right thing to do. I walk out the diner with my head down and wait for my taxi to arrive. I hope it comes soon.
Peyton
What is wrong with me? I made her cry. I never wanted to make her cry. She’s my best friend. I share things with her that I’m sometimes too afraid to admit to Mason. Maybe that’s why I freaked out. Maybe she knows too much about me. Maybe we should stop being friends. Maybe it’s just my illness talking. I hate this! I can’t even be normal for just a few hours. I hate that I have to rely on medication to control my emotions. The one thing Taylor doesn’t know is that I’ve been seeing someone. I’ve had a counselor for a while now; she’s referred me to a psychiatrist. Is that crazy or what? Or maybe I’m the crazy one. I guess it just freaked me out that Taylor decided to mention a counselor when she didn’t know I’m already seeing one. It’s like she knows me too well.
I don’t want her to know for a reason. I don’t want to lose her. She’s all that I have right now. Mason has changed since he’s been married and he’s always working, so he can’t be there for me like he used to. I knew something was wrong. I’ve felt it for a long time. From the time I sent Justin to the hospital just for talking about my hair. There was never a need to become that violent. I knew something wasn’t normal but I tried to avoid it.
Taylor’s never seen me like this so I know it scared her. I just want to be normal for a day and live without my meds, like everyone else. I didn’t mean to hurt her—God knows I mean it. Now, I’m not schizophrenic, but I’m pretty close. My psychiatrist says I’m bipolar. I’m always either too hot or too cold. I can never reach a middle ground. My medication helps, but it still doesn’t make me normal. I’m afraid that I will never be normal.
That explains the entire outburst and why I don’t sleep at night; instead, I stay up all night and compose new music. She says that’s normal while I’m in the manic phase. Creativity tends to come alive during those moments. The only bad thing is that I can’t control the outbursts—kind of like what just happened with Taylor. I hope she’s all right and gets home safely. I’m too embarrassed to call her right now, and besides, she probably hates me. I know I hate me.
I walk into my apartment, sit down on the couch, and light a cigarette. I’m a singer and I shouldn’t smoke, but I do during times like these. I just can’t get the look on Taylor’s face out of my head. It was horrible to watch. I feel like I just killed her and stomped on her heart. I want her to know that I’m sorry. I put the cigarette out and do what I do best when I’m this upset. I take out my pocketknife and pull off my shirt. I cut a line down the left side of my chest, just so that enough blood trickles down to my navel. I hurt Taylor’s heart tonight, so I want to come just as close to hurting mine.
Mason
I want to kill him. I never thought I’d think that way of Peyton, but he hurt her. She’s my wife, and he made her take a cab home alone at night. It started to rain while she was waiting for the cab, so now she’s drenched. She’s shivering from being wet for so long. I don’t know what’s happened to Peyton, but he has something coming to him.
“Tay, why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t know if you were off from work or not. I didn’t want to disturb you,” she says hurtfully.
“Babe, I’m never too busy for you! Especially in situations like this.”
“I’m sorry, Mason.”
“Don’t be. It’s Peyton who should be sorry…or at least he will be!” I feel the anger rise in me like the flames in Dante’s Inferno.
“Go easy on him, Mason. Something’s wrong; I know it! It wasn’t Peyton. Peyton was gone; I saw it in his eyes.”
“Please don’t defend him; it’s making me angrier!”
“I’m not defending him, but maybe you should ask him what’s wrong. He is your best friend. I wouldn’t want to be the reason to tear you two apart. You’re like brothers, and I’m just a girl.”
“You’re my wife, and that means I can’t and won’t let anyone speak to you or treat you the way he did tonight. I was serious when I made that vow. Family or not!”
“I know you were, Mason, and I love you for that. I really do,” she says. When she kisses me softly, there’s a taste of sadness.
“I’m going to take a shower now and then I’ll come to bed. You don’t have to wait up for me,” she says. Her voice sounds as if her world has ended.
I hate seeing her like this. Even more, I hate it that Peyton means so much to her. I’m not jealous or anything, but I just miss having my wife sometimes. I try my best to always be here for her, even though I know I haven’t been around much lately. I’m angry with Peyton, but I should be angry with myself. I made that vow; not him. He may have hurt her tonight, but I’m afraid I’ve hurt her even more. I’m not always here, but I should be. I should be.
She comes out of the shower with just he
r towel on, and I just can’t help but stare at her.
“What?” she asks curiously.
“You’re beautiful.” It’s all I can say. It’s true.
“And you’re perfect,” she says, coming closer to me.
I’m not.
“I should thank you for being the best husband alive. Most guys couldn’t do it; especially at your age,” she says, and there is sincerity written all over her body.
“Well, I try.” I force a smile.
“I love your smile, even when it is forced.”
She knows me too well.
“Don’t let Peyton upset you, he was just having a rough day. He didn’t mean it,” she says, standing directly in front of me. “Now make me feel better.” She lets her towel fall off.
She kisses me and tells me she loves me; then she whispers in my ear, “You’re perfect.”
I’m not. And I’m sorry.
Taylor
The next morning I wake up with a heavy heart and dread going to school. I’m still upset because of the situation with Peyton, but I have to keep reminding myself that I still have Mason, and he isn’t going anywhere. I just wish that I could read Peyton. I know something’s wrong, but I don’t know what. I’ve never seen him like that before and I never want to again. I hope today we can talk about it and just get past it. I just don’t want Mason to say anything to him first; I’m sure Peyton feels bad enough.
I finally get out of bed and get into the shower, but for some reason I cry. I don’t know if it’s because of Peyton or because I’m just tired. I just know that something’s not right. And not only with Peyton. Maybe I should take my own advice about talking to someone. I think that’s the only healthy thing to do right now. I hear a knock at the door.
“Babe, are you okay? We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry!” Mason shouts from the other side of the door.
“Y-yeah, I’m c-coming out now,” I say, trying to stop my voice from cracking as a result of the lump in my throat. I stop the shower and walk back into the bedroom to get ready for school.
“I spoke to Peyton,” Mason says, trying to get a reaction from me. He succeeds.
“What did he say?” I say anxiously.
“Not much. He didn’t even apologize. It’s like I don’t even know him anymore. Before I was through with saying what I needed to say, he hung up the phone. I don’t understand him anymore,” Mason says with a stitch of resentment and sadness in his voice.
“Oh.” That’s all I can say. Now I’m really worried about him. He never treats Mason that way. I could understand me; I just came into his life. But Mason? That really puzzles me.
Once at school, Mason and I get out of the car and my heart is in my stomach. I see Peyton, and he doesn’t even speak. I think that maybe he’s in a rush and I’ll just speak to him later. What really shoots me in the heart is when I see him grab Keely and walk with her as if they are together. I know that’s not true, but even so, how did that friendship happen overnight, literally?
I go to first period math, a class I have with Peyton. We usually sit next to each other. Instead, he sits next to Keely in the back corner while I sit on the opposite end of the back row. I can’t help but stare.
“Looks like we have an audience,” I hear Keely say in a sarcastic way.
Peyton just turns to look at me and then goes back to talking with Keely. This can’t be happening. She can’t have taken my Peyton away. He’s my best friend. Class ends and I hear Keely and Alison talking about an after-Christmas party on Peyton’s birthday. He didn’t. He took my idea and told them.
Lunch is boring. I hope Peyton will speak to me, but no such luck. I begin to feel sick, so I ask Mason to take me home, since we drove to school together. He says he can’t leave now, so I have no other choice but to ask Jagger. We’re in the car when he decides to spark up conversation.
“So what’s wrong with you?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say mildly.
“Then why am I taking you home?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you pregnant?”
“No! Jagger, please just drive,” I say, irritated.
There’s silence for about five minutes until he decides to speak again.
“Is it about Peyton and Keely?” he asks, as if he’s actually concerned.
I’m silent for a while, but proceed to tell him that isn’t it.
“It’s nothing serious. He just slept with her last night. They consider themselves a couple, but that won’t last long. She’s not Peyton’s type. I guess Peyton is just deciding to give her a try since she’s been after him for so long.”
My heart stops. My life has gone from fairy tale to tragedy overnight. I knew it was all too good to be true. I should have prepared myself for that free fall. He told Jagger before he told me. I was his best friend. I guess that’s it. I was his best friend. I always find a way to mess everything up. I’m just a mistake in everyone’s life.
“Are you going to the party for his birthday?” he asks.
“No. It’s stupid. An after-Christmas party? What a stupid idea,” I say.
Jagger finally reaches our apartment. I get out and thank him for the ride.
He says, “Anytime.” He also says that if I need anything, to call him. Do I look that badly off or is Jagger just practicing being human for a while?
I go into our place and as soon as I close the door I sob. I cry because of my life. But most of all, I cry because of Peyton. He’s the only one besides Mason and Jackson who get me. I was beginning to feel normal around him. But he’s gone. I don’t know for how long, but I know he’s gone for now, and it already seems like forever. I reach into my pocket for my box cutter, lift my sleeves, and then I cut. I do what I haven’t done in a long time. I used to have Peyton to talk to and make me feel better whenever I had a bad day, but now Keely has him. I want my Peyton. I need my Peyton. He’s my Peyton Giordano.
I fall asleep until Mason comes home. He couldn’t stay because he had to work, but what should I expect? We’re two married seventeen-year-olds who live on our own. He works for his parent’s architecture company, so he gets paid a little more than the average seventeen-year-old does. His parents always make sure we are okay financially. They refuse to see their son and daughter-in-law struggle through anything. I think it’s kind of nice. They’re the only family I have. Brian, Jean, and…well, it used to be Peyton. The thought of Peyton just upsets me all over again. He found a way to consume my mind once again. I’m really worried and pissed off at him all at the same time.
I decide I can’t take it anymore. I’m going over to Peyton’s place to speak with him. We can’t go the rest of our lives without speaking to each other. Not if we are going to be a part of the same family. I rush to my car and drive full speed to Peyton’s apartment. When I park, I get out and slam the door. I’m angry. It’s as if my depression committed suicide and got reincarnated as anger. I quickly walk into the building, get into the elevator, and push the button that has the number eleven engraved on it. I never noticed before how nice Peyton’s apartment building is. He pays for it with the money his mom left him after she died. I don’t know exactly how much she left him, but I do know it’s enough for him to pay his rent, not have to work, and still have money left over. She was a surgeon—a renowned surgeon—so I guess that explains it. Plus, he gets money for his gigs with his band sometimes, but I know that couldn’t be enough to pay for this.
When I reach his door, I ring the doorbell, anxiously waiting for him to answer. I wait a while and ring it again. He finally answers with his pants unbuckled and no shirt on. He has muscles; I guess he has the body of a boxer, since that’s what he does during his free time. He can be a bit of a weight-training freak. I ignore his appearance and begin to speak.
“We need to talk.” The words come out very easily.
“Can’t.”
That’s all he gives me. A one-syllable answer.
“Why not?”
I’m getting annoyed.
“Busy.”
Again, one word.
“Can you give me more than one-word answers?” I say, completely ticked off.
“Okay, how about this? Stay away from me! If I wanted to speak to you, I would’ve done so today,” he says with no expression on his face.
“What happened to you? What is wrong, Peyton? People just don’t up and change like this in one day. What’s going on with you?” I say, almost in tears.
“Stay out of my business, please. You should really leave. Call Mason or something. Or maybe go back to Jackson. I don’t care, as long as you stay away from me.”
“Why are you being like this?” I say, almost completely broken. “You’re my best friend. What happened? Peyton, talk to me, please! Is it your dad?”
“’Bye, Taylor.”
Then I hear a female voice say, “Peyton, will you hurry up and come back in already? Who is it anyway?” It’s Keely. She comes to the door, sees me, and decides to be a bitch, as usual.
“You know people don’t like stalkers,” she says, smirking.
“You did see Jizelle’s face, right? Would you like to look like her?” I threaten, now filled with great animosity.
“Try it, bitch!” she says and she pushes me.
These girls never learn. I push her back and go to swing at her head, but Peyton pulls me away; just like before. This time, he isn’t on my side.
“Taylor, you need to leave now!” Peyton says with anger in his eyes.
“Go to hell, Peyton!” I say in a low tone filled with pure hate.
He just lost his lifeline.
Peyton
Go to hell. I can’t get those words out of my head. But I had to do it. Taylor and I could never be friends for obvious reasons. I will admit that I do miss her, but I’m good at moving on. I have to move on. I want to tell her so much. Like how I listened to her advice and called my father late last night. He wants me to come over for dinner with his family later, and I’m nervous. She gives good advice even if she doesn’t know it.
A Tragic Heart Page 6