The Natural History of Us

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The Natural History of Us Page 25

by Rachel Harris


  “Because I was an asshole,” I say, leaning my head back against a plank. Her mouth pinches at the past tense description and I huff a humorless laugh. “Okay, I’m still an asshole.”

  Damn, this went a whole lot easier in my imagination. I’ve had three years to think this through, to choose the perfect words to explain my stupidity. But right now, seeing her stare at me with eyes filled with hurt, I have nothing. Just my heart with her name on it, and too many years of regret.

  I scrub a hand across my face. “I panicked. It’s no excuse, I know, but it’s the truth. I warned you I sucked at relationships. I made a mistake, Peyton, and the second I saw your face that day, I knew it. But by then, it was already too late.”

  “Why not just talk to me?” she asks, leaning forward on the bench. “Before or after. You could’ve told me you were panicking. Hell, I was, too! We would’ve figured it out together. Even if we decided to stop seeing each other, it would have been better than… than what you did. How that felt? God, Justin, I hope you never have to feel that. It destroyed me, and I can’t help thinking that if you had just come to me—”

  “I was in love with you.”

  I take a breath and give her an apologetic shrug. “I was in love with you, and too chicken-shit to say it, but I was. And I knew you loved me. If I’d told you that I thought we needed a break, that I’d almost ruined both our lives and that I thought moving on was what was best for you, you would’ve tried to talk me out of it.”

  “Damn straight,” she admits, nodding her head.

  “And I would’ve let you.”

  Across the street, my uppity neighbors walk outside. Every time I see them, they’re fighting, and judging by their raised voices and stiff movements, today’s no different. It’s no wonder they get along so well with my parents. I’ve had nothing but sucky examples of relationships my whole life. Even my grandparents, who loved me as best they could, slept in separate rooms. It’s insane that I ever thought I could make it work with Peyton back then.

  But now… now I’m smarter. I’ve felt love from Carlos’s family. They treat me like their own. Brandon’s mom and even Aly’s parents welcome me and show me what true love is like. I also have Coach. He’s taught me what a man looks like, how he acts and holds himself. I only wish I could’ve known these things earlier. It would’ve saved us both so much heartache.

  Once my miserable neighbors are tucked inside their Benz, I say, “Sunshine, you had me wrapped around your little finger. If we were going to break things off, and I really thought we should, I needed it to be your decision. I had to make it good enough that you wouldn’t ever want me back… because I was weak... I still am, when it comes to you. I knew it was only a matter of time until I realized how much I needed you and begged for forgiveness.”

  Peyton doesn’t give me the smile I hoped for. She just keeps watching me, staring into me with those big, blue eyes, and I lean forward on my elbows, needing her to understand.

  “I had to keep you safe,” I say. “I was terrified I’d mess things up. With you, with your dad. I know I hurt you, and that my methods were stupid and unforgiveable, but I did what I believed was best. Peyton, you’ve always deserved better than me...” I clasp my hands and look at my feet. “A guy who couldn’t see past his own shit to hold you when you were scared out of your mind.”

  Fuck. I really was a dipshit. There are so many things I’d go back and redo if I could, but that day… that day trumps them all. As I sit here, stewing in the mess I made of things, Peyton’s orange toenails appear next to my bare feet.

  “You were scared, too,” she says, sinking on the bench beside me. “We were fifteen, Justin. You’re excused from not handling it perfectly. Or, well, handling it at all.”

  She bumps my shoulder softly and I tilt my head to face her, smiling ruefully at the slight dig. Her eyes are sad as she tightens her mouth and studies me.

  “You used to say that a lot, you know. That I ‘deserve better.’” Tentatively, she reaches out, brushing hair off my forehead, and a pulse of energy zings across my scalp. “Now that so much time has passed, do you still think that?”

  “No.” I release a sigh. “I know you deserve better. I’m just too selfish to care.”

  We sit quietly after that, Peyton absorbing my words, me hoping they make a difference. A small smile begins to bloom across her mouth, and though I’m terrified to read into it too much, I slowly stretch my hand out, linking our pinkies.

  “Where do we go from here?”

  Peyton scoots closer, our hips now touching as she stares at our entwined fingers. “Next week is graduation,” she says softly. “If you go pro, you’ll leave for who-knows-where, and your entire life will be baseball.” She raises her eyes to mine. “It’s the way it is and I’d never hold you back from that. But that’s not how you build a relationship. Long distances rarely work and I’ve already lived my life on hold… I won’t do it again.”

  The statistic we learned in the “Mate Selection” section of our project springs to mind, like an annoying Debbie Downer: less than twenty-five percent of couples make it if they don’t live in the same area.

  I can’t handle losing Peyton again. I barely survived the first time. When we get back together—when not if—we’re sticking for the long haul. Marriage, babies that don’t require a battery pack, the whole shebang. I never wanted it before but I do now—but only with Peyton.

  Yeah, we’re young, but we’ll take our time. Graduate college and do it right.

  But this girl is it for me.

  An electronic cry snaps my head toward the front door where Gabi stands holding Justin Jr.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but y’all need to do something.” She cranes her neck away from the robot baby like the crying disease is contagious. “This thing is possessed. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but it doesn’t want a bottle or a diaper, and it doesn’t need to be burped. I surrender. There’s a reason I avoided FACS. Babies and I, we don’t mix.”

  Peyton laughs under her breath and curls her pinkie around mine one last time before severing contact. “Sounds like it needs to be rocked. I’ve got this one.” She pushes to her feet, and a mild panic stirs within my gut.

  We haven’t settled anything. I don’t know where we stand, if we’re back together, if we have hope of doing so in the future, or even if she wants me. If she forgives me for my hurtful, boneheaded mistakes of the past.

  As she pads past me, I grasp her wrist and ask, “Are we okay?”

  It just scratches the surface of my questions, but for now it’ll do. Peyton takes a breath before answering, only ratcheting up my anxiety.

  “Yeah,” she finally says, her guarded eyes searching mine. “We’re good.”

  I nod, slowly, glad to hear the words, and release my grip. She walks out of the gazebo, and I continue to sit here, watching a lone bird in the driveway eating some seed Aly threw out earlier, and working through a thousand questions that have no clear answers.

  WEDNESDAY, JUNE 1ST

  Aftermath

  ♥Freshman Year

  PEYTON

  SWEET SERENITY RANCH 5:05 P.M.

  “I’m the world’s biggest idiot.” I laid my head on Oakley’s strong, reassuring back and sighed. This was what I’d been reduced to—an openly sobbing, snotty mess, crying on my horse’s back because I was too afraid to face my friends.

  Pathetic didn’t even cover it.

  It was only a matter of time until Faith or Cade found me. So far I’d been lucky. Mama was so swamped with work she didn’t question me when I said I wasn’t feeling well. Instead, she pulled Faith in to helping as soon as she arrived. As for Cade, he was running late for his shift for the first time in his life. Clearly someone somewhere was on my side, but I knew my luck was running out. Once Faith’s shift was over, she’d come out here and find me, just like she always did, somehow sensing my distress. She’d take my hand and bring me back to my room where we’d hide out with chocolate and Zac
Efron movies like we did whenever my illness got to be too much.

  But Cade would push for answers.

  He’d always been a good friend to me, but over the last year or so, he’d taken protective to a whole new level. All it would take is one look at my splotchy, swollen face, and he’d demand to know what happened. Once he pulled the entire story from me, I knew he’d take off after Justin. I didn’t need that. I didn’t even want that. All I wanted to do was forget.

  I lifted my head and laughed. “Do what scares you, huh, girl?” I ran my hand down Oakley’s side. “God, what a crock. Look where that’s led me so far… hiding from my family and friends, and crying here alone.” Annie’s ears pricked forward and she nickered softly. “Sorry, girl. You know you’re awesome company.”

  Honestly, for years now, Annie Oakley had been my closest friend. Sure, I had Faith and Cade and even Trevor to some degree. I had the kids in my homeschool co-op and at church. But it wasn’t the same. A special bond forms between a girl and her horse, a bond only animal lovers can truly understand. Oakley could read me without words. She felt my moods, seemed to know when I needed to ride fast and furious, or take it slow and easy. Riding her is where I found my joy.

  Losing that was the cruelest blow GBS ever dealt.

  When I first got sick, everyone looked at me with fear in their eyes. They had no answers, no way of knowing if and when I’d ever return to normal… and what a weird word, “normal.” Today, most people looked at me and assumed that’s what I was. I conversed and ate on my own, I had an entire semester of public high school behind me. Only my occasional limp would tip off a stranger that I’d ever been sick at all.

  But I wasn’t normal. I wasn’t whole. Riding Oakley grounded me. Rodeo was my home. Other than my family, it was where I belonged, a place where I shined, and it had been ripped away from me. A piece of my soul was missing, and after today, I needed it back. Just this once, I needed to do what I loved, because if I didn’t, I might just lose myself altogether.

  A shiver of excitement danced down my spine as I realized I’d made up my mind. I latched onto that feeling, wanting to drown out the heartache, and walked around to look Oakley straight in the eyes.

  “Wanna ride, girl?”

  I didn’t need Justin. I didn’t need any guy. All I needed was to ride. The saddle was my rock, and it hadn’t failed me yet.

  Oakley pranced in her stall, and a grin, the first in hours, stretched my cheeks.

  My therapists were wrong. Sure, they’d worked miracles, were creative in tailoring my sessions to prepare me to ride again, but I didn’t have to wait. I could do it now. Hippotherapy proved it, and I very rarely lost my balance on a treadmill anymore. They were being overly cautious, and I got it. It was their job. But mine was getting back on Oakley.

  The entire time I saddled her up, I kept an ear trained for footsteps.

  Dad coddled me like a toddler. He listened to everything my therapists said, and if he caught me now, he’d freak. Luckily, though, he was still at school. As for Mama, she was elbow deep grooming a family of dogs checking out. A big part of me wanted to share this with her, but in some ways, she was worse than Dad. She wanted me to ride again, even encouraged me, but she refused to believe that I could handle it now. That the doctors didn’t know everything. It hurt, too, because she knew how this felt. She grew up on this ranch; the need to ride flowed through her veins every bit as much as it did mine.

  Once Oakley and I were ready, I grabbed the reins. My grip was still off, my muscles not quite responding like they used to, but I could make adjustments for that. We breached the entrance to the barn and another thrill of, “holy hell, I’m going to do this,” shot through me.

  With a click of my tongue, Oakley and I made our way to the open field.

  “Hey, Peyton.”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin. Throwing a hand onto Oakley’s back to steady myself, I turned and watched as Trevor yanked out an earbud and lifted his chin toward me. “I thought you couldn’t ride yet.”

  Here’s the thing… I hated lying. I hated it almost as much as I hated not riding. But even this small distraction from my goal let other things seep through my filter: fear that maybe I wasn’t ready; memories of this morning; Justin’s cruel betrayal this afternoon.

  Lying was my only solution.

  “Got the green light yesterday,” I replied. “Just couldn’t wait another second.”

  “I hear that,” he said with a nod, already lifting his earbud to replace it. “It’d be the same with me and golf. Congratulations.”

  That was all it took. Trevor sort of lived in his own world half the time, and today, I was grateful for it. He shoved his earbud back in, bobbed his head, and headed for the doghouse. I hesitated for a second, worried he’d mention this to Mama, but then, this was Trevor I was talking about. If he told her hello it’d be a mouthful.

  Breathing deep with relief, I continued on.

  I wished I’d brought some music. The quiet was too… quiet. It let me think too much. Every footfall brought another whisper. Of Lauren’s thinly veiled taunts. Of Justin’s agonized voice, calling my name. Of my therapists saying I couldn’t ride yet. That my muscles were still too weak.

  That’s probably what Lauren thought I was, too. Weak. Justin must as well or he wouldn’t have hurt me the way he did. But I’d show them. I’d show them all.

  At the field, I rolled my neck back and forth. I breathed deeply, in and out, and put my hand on the saddle horn. I could do this.

  Up on Oakley’s back, I stared out at the miles of open field ahead, ready to prove just how strong I was. I took the reins and wrapped them around my forearm. That gave my slightly weakened fingers more control. I sat up tall and clucked my tongue.

  “Let’s ride, girl.”

  We started at a trot. My hips rocked back and forth in the saddle and tears pricked my eyes. I was finally home.

  Nothing compared to this feeling. Getting it back this summer would keep me sane. Nudging Oakley’s flank, I urged her on, needing to feel the wind whip across my face. Needing to listen to sounds muffle under the pounding of hooves. I needed to lose myself.

  I was so consumed with pushing my limits that I didn’t hear the tires on the road.

  The rhythm of the ride enthralled me so much that I didn’t hear Cade calling my name.

  But Mama did.

  Suddenly, they both appeared yards in front of me, eyes thrown wide with emotion. Cade’s was filled with confusion, and Mama—her head jerked to the side as panic overtook her features. I shook my head, not understanding what the big deal was… and then I saw it.

  Rusty, our feisty boarder dog with energy to burn (and a nasty habit of running free on our property) had gotten loose. He was currently bolting right for us.

  I didn’t have time to think.

  Oakley’s head perked up, her feet shifted, and she took off, headed in the wrong direction. Spooked horses weren’t anything new around here, but I was rusty. And my muscles didn’t cooperate.

  I tried to check her, but my grip was all wrong. Oakley threw her head in the air, took the bit in her teeth, and charged. Straight toward a fence.

  I attempted to control her with my knees, tried to steer her away from the rail. But my hips were weak and my legs couldn’t hold on. As a last-ditch effort, I sat back and deep within the saddle… but it was too late.

  Unable to keep my balance, and with Oakley running scared, I fell. Hard.

  Pain exploded everywhere, especially in my wrist, and my ears rang with Mama’s screams. Someone ran down and grabbed Oakley. Trevor appeared to corral Rusty. Cade dropped to his knees beside me, the pity in his eyes confirming what I already knew.

  My body had failed me, in the worst possible way. I wasn’t strong.

  And I never would be again.

  WEDNESDAY, JUNE 4TH

  Almost Free

  ♥Senior Year

  JUSTIN

  SWEET SERENITY RANCH 4:00 P.M.
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br />   I’m sitting in my Jeep, watching Peyton like a psycho stalker. I can’t help it, though. She’s riding again, rounding the third barrel on the course like a pro—a slow pro, but a pro without fear, and a proud smile curves my mouth.

  The selfish ass inside me would love to think I did that, that I helped her trust herself and find her strength. But she would’ve gotten there on her own eventually. Peyton is so much stronger than she ever gives herself credit for. I, on the other hand, am the one needing direction.

  The graduation machine is in full force, and because of it, Peyton and I have barely talked. We finished our FACS paper on Monday, said “hi” in passing between finals, and sent a handful of meaningless texts before we both crashed from exhaustion. But I still have no clue where we stand, and time is flying by so fast it’s starting to blur. Friday night we graduate, and then it’s Peyton’s exhibition and the championship game on Saturday. Suddenly everything seems to be coming to a head, and hell if I know where that even is.

  A sharp rap on the window scares the shit out of me. Some stalker I am—I have zero sense of my surroundings. Hand to heart, I shift in my seat, and find myself on the other end of Cade’s guarded gaze.

  Awesome, just how I wanted to spend the day. With a sigh, I yank open the door and step onto the steaming ground. “Cade.”

  He ignores me, his eyes shifting to Peyton. “She looks good up there, doesn’t she?”

  “She does,” I agree, feeling my muscles tense. His stupid cowboy hat shades his eyes and I can’t get a read on him. What’s his angle now? Feigning aloofness, I lean back against my door. “I reckon she’ll be at full speed in no time.”

  Internally, I shake my head. Reckon? Apparently, country is contagious.

  Cade’s eyes cut to me. “That’s on you.”

  My head rears back in confusion and I try to remember what we were even talking about. “Huh?”

  “Her riding,” he explains with a nod that tips his hat. I’m trapped in a damn western. “You helped her when I couldn’t. She’s up there on that horse because of you.”

 

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