She looks at me without breaking her stride. “I don’t have a class with Mrs. Rudolph.”
“Third period. Biology.” I leave out the part where we’ll have to partner up when we study the human anatomy. She approaches her locker, which isn’t where I thought it was yesterday. Maybe she requested to have it moved? Is someone bullying her? I could step in if that’s the case. My brother Brad and I don’t stand for that type of crap. Once she pops the lock and opens the door, I see it’s completely covered in pictures of some football player. “Boyfriend?” Please say no. Please say no.
She pauses and looks at the door. “Friend,” she mumbles.
Thank you!
“So about our homework?”
She slams the door. “I think you have me confused with my sister.” She turns to walk down the hall, making me rush after her. I’m about a foot taller than her, forcing me to look down at the top of her head. Being the smooth teen I am, I step in front of her and backpedal down the hall. My ego’s hurt a bit by the annoyed look on her face.
“Can I help you with something?” she asks, stopping in the middle of the hallway.
“Hey, Peyton, do you know if your dad is touring soon?” another girl asks. The gorgeous girl in front of me rolls her eyes and mutters no. The classmate doesn’t say anything before walking away. So, her name’s Peyton. Different, but I like it.
I make the mistake of watching her classmate and almost lose Peyton slipping by me. However, I’m undeterred and quickly catch up. I follow her to the loud cafeteria because I’ve been so determined to speak with her, I haven’t stopped at my locker to dump my books and grab my lunch. It’s okay. I can eat later.
“Hey, this guy is looking for you.” Peyton steps out of the way, and that’s when my eyes land on another version of Peyton. I don’t want to say she’s prettier, but… yeah, she is, and the way she’s looking at me with her Caribbean blue eyes has my heart beating faster than it ever has and my throat feels like it’s closing. Great, I lay eyes on the woman of my dreams, and I’m going to die.
“I’m Benjamin Miller.” I stick my hand out for her to shake it. She does, placing her dainty hand in mine. The moment my large hand engulfs her, I don’t want to let go, but she pulls away quickly, leaving me wanting more.
“I’m Elle Powell-James, and this is my sister, Peyton.”
Elle. Her name is Elle.
My mouth opens and closes, only to open again and say the dumbest thing ever. “Twins,” I say stupidly. I mean, of course, they are. They’re freaking identical in every way except how they dress. No wonder I messed up. I glance at the both of them, trying to find a distinguishing feature so I don’t make the same mistake again. I have nothing, except for the way Elle smiles. Her head tilts to the side and her eyes, they shine brighter than the northern star. Okay, stop Ben, before you embarrass yourself.
“So how long have you been in Beaumont?” Elle asks.
“A couple of weeks. We just moved here from Orlando.”
“Disneyworld!” the twins say in unison.
“Sorry,” Peyton tells me. “We love Disneyworld. It’s our favorite place. Our dad takes us there all the time.” They seem sort of old to enjoy a theme park, but who am I to judge. Given a chance, I’d probably go because let’s be real, we all want to act like kids.
“Beaumont must seem like a sleepy little town compared to Orlando. Why’d you move?” Peyton asks.
“We’re adjusting.” The truth is, it’s a nice change of pace. Orlando was a hectic lifestyle, and we rarely saw our mother. At least here, she’s home every night, and we can be a family.
“What do you like to do?” Elle asks.
I shrug. “Everything really.”
“Well, that’s good. You should come to the football game on Friday night,” Elle suggests.
“Will you be there?” I ask.
The twins laugh. I must be missing some inside joke.
“Elle is a cheerleader, so yes, she’ll be there,” Peyton says.
“And you?” I ask, curious about why her sister thought it was important to tell me that. Granted, I’m very thankful.
“Peyton will be on the sidelines, coaching.”
If I’m not mistaken, my eyes bug out of my head. “You coach football?”
Peyton shrugs. “I help out.”
I nod. “Gotta say, that’s really cool.”
Peyton shies away from my compliment, but her sister doesn’t allow it. Elle bumps Peyton on the shoulder and smiles brightly. These girls are the first twins I’ve met, and I can already see the closeness between them. On any given day, Brad and I are cordial with each other if we’re not trying to fight one another.
The bell rings and I have no choice but to gather my stuff and head to class. Thankfully, Elle’s locker is near mine, which gives me more time with her. Through the halls, everyone yells out her name, and guys stop and talk to her. It’s awkward for me to stand there, but I don’t want to leave. There’s something about her that draws me in. I can’t put my finger on it.
“Excuse me.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I ask the clerk.
“I asked where you’ll be working?”
“Right, sorry. I’ll be working in New York for a bit. I need some suits and business casual wear.”
“Let me get your measurements, I’ll be right back. In the meantime, take a look at our suits along the back wall.” He points toward the back of the store before leaving me there. The last time anyone took my measurements was for prom, which seems so long ago. It’s hard to believe I’ve been in the twins’ life for over eight years.
The suits hang by color, starting with white and ending with jet-black. It makes me wonder if the coats come with a chart as to where they’re supposed to go or if an employee here has a keen eye for the different hues and this is their task for the day. It’s something I don’t know if I’d have the patience for.
The clerk returns and ushers me into the dressing room where he has me stand on a pedestal. “Left or right?”
“I’m right-handed,” I tell him.
“No, which way do you hang?”
“Um…”
He eyes my groin area and I let out a very uncomfortable cough.
“Our pants have a bit extra depending on which side you normally fall to.”
How is this even a thing? All I can think right now is I’m thankful Elle isn’t standing here with me. I don’t know if I’d get over the sheer embarrassment. “Right,” I say, although now that I’m thinking about it, I’m not entirely sure. I can honestly say I’ve never even paid attention.
My personal attendant goes to town, so to speak, with his yellow measuring tape, rattling off numbers to an assistant of his own, that I don’t even remember entering the room. They both disappear, leaving me standing on the platform with mirrors all around me. I glance at myself, wondering what this guy sees. Does he see the stress and worry I have about my next adventure or the bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep I get each night? Every night since I accepted the offer, my mind races, filling my thoughts with dread and endless possibilities. Try as I might, I think about Elle and wonder what she’s going to do during the time I’ll be in New York. Will she miss me, call me and demand I tell her why I didn’t share my news with her?
I’ll be gone approximately ten weeks, living in an overpopulated city, working a nine to five job, three thousand miles away from the people I consider my family, with a three hour time difference. I’m excited, nervous and welcoming the opportunity to do something for myself. Every decision I’ve made since the day I met Elle, has been based on her. It’s time for Benjamin Miller to expand his wings and see what else is out there in the world, and if doing so means Elle, and I are going our separate ways, so be it. It’s probably time and honestly should’ve happened four years ago. California was never my dream. It’s always been hers.
13
Elle
With one last look at my final
for this quarter, I make sure every T is crossed and every I is dotted. For the past week, I’ve crammed everything I could into my brain, knowing at best I walk away with a C-average. It’s better than failing, and while it’s still not up to par with what my parents want and expect, it’s all I can give them right now, with the promise that I’ll do better next quarter.
While I’m still upset with my dad for threatening to cut me off, he’s right. I haven’t been a model student or daughter as of late, and if I want a future, I need to figure things out. However, the future part has to wait because Peyton and I are heading to Aruba for spring break. As luck would have it, UCLA and Northwestern happened to vacation at the same time, a first for Peyton and I. I had asked to go to Cancun and the Florida Keys with my friends, but what I need is time with my sister. Besides, we can plan her wedding and focus on being sisters. For a while now, I’ve felt like our bond hasn’t been as strong as it should be, and I miss it. I miss my sister.
I also miss my best friend. Ben’s the guy who I’ve seen almost every day of my life since I was fourteen. He’s also the guy who has conveniently disappeared, although that isn’t entirely true, I have seen him, in passing, but he’s clearly ignoring me. Deep down, I know it has to do with the night of his birthday. Whatever happened is my fault. The thing is, I don’t know exactly what happened and he’s not talking to me. A flippant wave as he’s passing by doesn’t really tell me anything. I want for him to pound on my apartment door, grab me by the shoulders and shake the crap out of me, all while yelling about how ridiculous I am for whatever I did. At least then, I’d know where I screwed up, and maybe I can try to fix it.
Although, something tells me there’s no coming back from what happened between us. I think we crossed a line, one I never meant to cross. Ben knows for sure, and he’s not saying anything, which leaves us in limbo. I have to do something to fix this… whatever this may be.
After another read through, I make a few changes to my paper, hoping I’m submitting the best quality work I can. I’m not naïve enough to think my efforts will be enough, but I’m hoping. My classmates start to turn their papers in, but I wait. I’m going to use every last second of the clock before I hand my final in. I have so much more to lose, by no fault of my own.
“Five minutes,” the proctor says. I had hoped my professor would be here today or at least her assistant, but no such luck. Even if I wanted to sweet talk my way into a passing grade, I can’t. The man standing at the front of the class with his eyes trained on each student doesn’t give a hoot about who I am or my plight. Of course, my plight is my own. The administrator already took pity on me when Peyton had her accident. I don’t have an excuse now.
Every minute, he announces the countdown. I feel like the song should play, and Rocky and Apollo Creed should start battling it out in the middle of the room. I try to focus on the words I wrote, tweaking and changing them around for better flow. When the test administrator declares one minute left, I save my document and send it to the classroom printer, where a small line has formed. Thankfully, I’m done. The stressing can happen while I’m on the beach, trying to piece my life back together.
As soon as I step out of the building, I tip my head back and let the sun shine down on me. Growing up, we’d come to California during vacations if the band wasn’t touring. From the moment I landed here, I knew this is where I wanted to be. Making this decision wasn’t easy, though. I thought about staying near Beaumont so that I could visit my father’s grave, but with my mom and dad living here, it’s where I wanted to be. Honestly, I don’t know how Peyton does it, living in Chicago by herself. Although, since she and Noah have been together, he’s living there as much as possible.
With Ben on my mind, I make my way over to the café where he has work-study. When he first got this job, I teased him only because he went from working at Whimsicality to the Java Spot, and had a slew of other jobs he could’ve applied for. He said working here made sense, it’s what he knew and could easily do the job without much training. He was right, and this quickly became our hangout, except right now he’s not here when he should be.
“Hey, Tim. Do you know where Ben is?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, he’s not on the schedule today.”
Odd. I smile. “Okay, thanks.” It doesn’t make sense that he wouldn’t be here. He’s always working at this time, but maybe he had a final scheduled. I pull out my phone and send him a text, and then scroll through the barely answered messages. When he does answer, it’s one word, and usually, it’s a yes or no, which is vastly different from a few weeks ago.
I try not to let it bother me as I head back home. Traffic is light, and when I get there, Peyton and Quinn are in the midst of a heated battle over whatever video game they’re playing. They don’t acknowledge me, and that’s okay. This is something they share, although if you look at Quinn, you’d think he wouldn’t be a sports fan. However, this is where his friendship with Noah comes into play. And probably Quinn’s love for Peyton. While they bond over video games and sports, Quinn and I have our music. Well, more his than mine. I’m the least musically inclined one of the bunch, even though I can play the guitar.
“Let me know when it’s safe to walk in front of the television.” I stand there, waiting. I’ve been on the receiving end a time or two, getting yelled at because I walked in front of the TV at the wrong time. Over the years, I’ve learned to wait.
“You’re clear,” Quinn says. Instead of passing by, I drop my bag and take the spot in between them. Both lean toward me as if they know I need their comfort, but neither wanting to bring attention to the fact.
“Who’s winning?”
“I am,” Peyton says.
“She cheats.”
Peyton throws her hands up in the air. “How, Quinn? We’re playing on a console. It’s impossible to cheat.”
I look at Quinn, who shrugs. The game starts back up, and it’s easy to tell who Peyton is. I start to laugh as she controls her future husband on the screen and when things don’t go her way, she yells at him, almost as if he could hear her.
“Poor Noah. He’s not even here to defend himself,” I direct at Peyton. She rolls her eyes and continues her onslaught of Quinn, while I sit there, sandwiched in between my siblings.
When the game is over, Peyton jumps up and does a little cheer before sticking her hand out. “Pay up.”
“You made a bet with her?” I look at Quinn.
“I’ve been practicing,” he laments.
I point at Peyton. “And you don’t think she has? Geesh, Quinn, she lives with a quarterback. I’m sure they play all the time.”
“Noah loses too.” Peyton is very nonchalant about beating Noah as she pockets the money from Quinn. “Go grab your stuff, Quinn will take us to the airport.”
The beauty of having a private jet at our disposal is we don’t have to book tickets. Our dad works with the pilot to file the flight plan, and the pilot tells us when to be at the landing strip. Last night, I packed everything I would need, which isn’t much, and rush off to my room to grab my bag.
Peyton and Quinn are waiting for me, ready to leave. Outside, I stare at Ben’s door, wondering if I should text him one more time or wait for him to respond. Maybe I need to step back and give him some space, even if it hurts me.
The drive to the airport takes longer than anticipated because of traffic, the only thing I hate about this area. You have to time your departure right, or you could get stuck for hours, all because someone put on their brakes at the wrong time.
When we finally arrive, we tell Quinn to have a fun week without us and thank him for dropping us off. The desk agent is laughing at us when we enter the facility. She tells us the pilot’s waiting and to have a fun trip. The both of us run to the plane and climb the stairs. I come to a complete halt even with Peyton crashing into me.
“What gives,” she says. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” There are red and white roses spread everywhere and
a bottle of champagne on the table. “You’re so lucky.”
“It’s our first time really apart like this,” Peyton says. I’m not even sure they’re from Noah, but who else would do this.
“What about during the season?”
“He’s home a couple of days a week, and I fly to him on Fridays.”
“I see.” Somehow, I knew this, but it didn’t really register. Peyton and I sit across from each other and buckle up. Our flight attendant has notified the pilot that we’re on board and ready and before I know it, we’re off the ground and soaring toward paradise.
The stewardess pops the cork on the champagne for us and pours us each a glass. “Thank you,” we both tell her. I reach across the table and tap my glass to my sister’s. “Here’s to a week of sun, sand, and whatever else we may do.”
“Like plan my wedding, talk about boys and eat our way through Aruba.”
I’m all for two of the three options she said, but talking about boys is something I don’t want to do. As I look around the cabin, I realize Peyton is living most girls’ fairy tales. I mean, what guy thinks about sending flowers ahead to decorate the inside of a plane? Noah does because he’s crazy in love with my sister. I’m happy for her, beyond happy actually, but jealous all the same. I want what they have. I want the all-consuming type of love where we each know what the other is thinking or where we may be in a room full of people.
“I want what you and Noah have.”
“What do you mean?” Peyton asks. I realize I hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but now that I have, Peyton’s looking at me expectantly.
“I want a guy who looks at me the way Noah looks at you. I want this”—I spread my arms out—“I want to walk in a room and search the crowd, only to feel my man coming behind me and when he touches me I know… I just know.”
“You have all that.”
My Unexpected Love: The Beaumont Series: Next Generation Page 8