The Day That Saved Us (22 page)

I STAYED AT
the Fisher’s again last night. Tatum said I could have one more night, and then I would have to go home. My mom hasn’t stopped texting and calling me. I acknowledged her to let her know I was safe, and that was it. She’s too much of a coward to come and get me herself.

Nick has yet to show his face. I’m not even sure if he wants to. And if he does, Tatum must be turning him away because we haven’t heard anything from him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s staying at my house with my mom, which makes me want to stay away that much longer. It’s made it easier for Brodee and me to continue pretending for another day. Or avoiding it. However you want to look at it. But now it’s time to go back to reality.

I stand on my front door step, staring at the handle like it’s a poisonous snake. I don’t want to touch it. Brodee must be watching me because my cell phone sounds off from inside my pocket.

Brodee:
You’ve got this.

I turn toward his house and see him standing in the center of his front porch. He nods encouragingly. I know he gets it. He wants to see his dad about as much as I want to see my mom. I nod back and head inside.

My mom is sitting on the couch in the family room with her head down when I round the corner. She lifts her gaze. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her face is all blotchy. It looks like she hasn’t stopped crying in days.

“Why did it have to be Nick?” I ask from where I stand. She remains seated. “I get you may be ready to move on—trying to date—but Nick? Why did it have to be Nick?” I don’t want to cry, but I can’t help it.

She stands. “Peyton, I know it’s hard, but I didn’t do this to hurt you.” She reaches out to me, but I shy away. I’m not ready for her to touch me. She settles back on the couch. “I never wanted to hurt any of you. Any of you. It just happened.”

“That’s a horrible explanation,” I say.

“I can’t explain why. You wouldn’t understand.”

“No, I don’t understand.” I take a bold step forward. “I don’t understand how you could be so callous, to hurt your best friend like this.” And another. “I don’t understand how you could disrespect Dad by sleeping with his best friend.” My voice quivers with pain. “I don’t understand how you could destroy the only family we have left!”

“I know.” She cries. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this, Mom. Why Hatteras? The one place that’s sacred to us. You took that away from me. From all of us. Everything Hatteras was will be tainted by your unfaithfulness.”

She sniffles. “Honey, I’m sorry. We knew what this would do, that everything would change. We were going to come clean when we got home. We waited so you and Brodee could enjoy this last summer together.”

“Waiting wouldn’t have made a difference. The summer would have been tainted no matter what. There were still lies and secrecy and betrayal. Whether you told us during or after, you ruined everything!”

My mom grits her teeth. “I get that you’re upset. I don’t expect you to accept this right away, but everything isn’t ruined. It’s messy right now, but we’ll work through it.”

“Work through it?” I snort. “With or without Nick by your side?”

When she doesn’t respond right away I think I have my answer. “Are you going to get married?” Please say no. Please.
I’m begging you.

“It’ll be quite some time before any of that is discussed.” She stands and comes closer to me. “We’ll take it slow. We understand what a shock this is.”

I scoff.
Shock?
Is that what this is called? Every part of my insides hurt. I’ve been dragged behind a horse on a desert road for miles. There isn’t a part of me that’s untouched by her deceit.

“You don’t get it, do you?” I shake my head, so disappointed in her. Our roles are suddenly reversed. I feel like the adult in this situation. “You’re so flippant about this, like you didn’t take one second to step back and think about what this would do to all of us. You wrecked it all, Mom! Brodee’s and my relationship will never be the same. Ever. I’ll never be able to look at Nick the same. Tate…Tate is
devastated
. Our families will
never
be the same. And it’s your fault. Because you and Nick couldn’t keep it in your pants!”

My mom shoots forward, her hand raised to smack me, but she stops herself. “You think this has been easy for me? Every day of the summer it’s weighed on me, and how it will affect every one of your lives. You don’t think I haven’t thought about how it will change the way you’ll look at me, how it’ll change you and me. What your father would think of me. You don’t think I regret what this will do to my relationship with Tate? It
kills
me, Peyton.” Her hands take my shoulders as the tears stream down her face. “It kills me,” she whispers.

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you?” My voice cracks.

“I’m not asking for your pity or your forgiveness. I’m asking for your understanding, for your acceptance.”

“I can’t give you that because I don’t understand this. I don’t understand how you could do this. I don’t understand why you thought he was more important than the rest of us.” Tears sting my eyes.

“He’ll never be more important than you, honey.” Her voice is desperate. “
Never
.”

“If you felt that way, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d never have started this or you’d stop it now. You’d get on your hands and knees to beg for forgiveness and never consider being with him for one more second.”

She swallows. “I can’t do that. It doesn’t change how we feel. I wish it happened differently, but I can’t change that now. Nick and I have thought long and hard about this. We love each other. And you’ll eventually have to accept that we’re going to move forward.”

I can almost hear her tack on in her head, “Whether you like it or not.” That’s essentially what she’s saying. She doesn’t truly care about how this is going to affect everyone. She knew it would destroy us, and she did it anyway.

I’ll never be able to look at my mom the same.

WHEN I WAKE
up the next day, all I want to do is be near Brodee, and then I remember that I can’t run into his arms for comfort. I can’t waltz into his house like it’s my own or share cheesy pick-up lines with him. We can’t pretend anymore. We’re over.

I spend my day locked in my room, packing up everything I won’t need at USC. Moving day can’t come fast enough. There comes a point when I can’t stand being in the house any longer so I grab my board and head for the beach. I don’t check the surf report. Even if the waves are crap, they’ll be better than staying in that house with her. I just need to be in the ocean.

When I’ve spent a few hours away, I pull back into my driveway and see Brodee. He stands from the steps and waits for me on my front porch. He’s got a key to my house, so I’m not sure why he’s not inside.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.” I amble toward him.

“Your mom is inside.”

Duh. There’s my answer. I haven’t gone to his house for the exact same reason. I can’t bear the thought of seeing Nick. The man who was supposed to be my loyal father figure. I was going to ask him to walk me down the aisle one day.

I nod. Brodee steps to the side, and we both sit down on the top stair, overlooking the street we grew up on.

We don’t say anything for a few minutes. We sit, resting our arms over our knees, studying our hands in our own laps.

“I’m leaving for Duke tomorrow morning,” Brodee quietly speaks up.

I nod. I hoped he’d change his mind. There’s no way I’ll be able to see him every day, knowing we can’t be together. He made the right choice, even though it hurts. It needs to happen this way.

“But I want you to know I’m not giving up on us.”

“Brodee…” I sigh.

“No,” he cuts me off. “Listen to me. This sucks now. Everything is messed up, but it’s not that much different than before. We weren’t going to do the long distance thing before anyway. We’ll work through this when the time comes.”

“Not that
different
?” I nearly choke on a laugh. “Don’t you get it? You and I will never be what we were. What we had is broken. It’s gone. There’s no way you and I can ever be together.”

“Our parents screwed up, Peyton.
We
didn’t.”

“Brodee.” I punctuate his name. “Our parents are in love. Do you realize that? This wasn’t just some heat of the moment affair that happened once. This has probably been going on a lot longer than we realize.
Everything
is different. We’d be some twisted form of stepbrother and sister. You might be okay with that, but I’m not.”

He runs his fingers roughly through his hair, standing it on end. “We made a pact. We weren’t supposed to change.”

“It’s a moot pact. There’s nothing we can do. It’s not your fault. It’s not mine. It was broken for us.”

“I can’t lose you, Pete,” he says softly. “I don’t know how to live life without you. From day one, you’ve been by my side. Every memory I have has you. I don’t know what a memory feels like without you in it. And I don’t want to.”

And that’s exactly why we shouldn’t be together. I don’t want to be his crutch or just some comfort. We need to be on our own, away from each other, to discover who we are without each other. Nothing in this life is certain, even relationships. Especially relationships. That truth is shattering when it’s the only truth you believed in. Love, friendship, marriage. Every relationship I knew—believed in—was solid. How easily a truth can be obliterated.

I rest my hand on his cheek, and he leans into it, closing his eyes as he inhales. He places his hand over mine and turns in, kissing my palm.

“You could never lose me for good, Brodee. You’ll always be my best friend. That will never change. But you have to see we’ll never be the same. You have to feel it, too. What we built in Hatteras is dead. We can’t change that or fix it. Right now we need to let each other go and get past this, but it’s going to take time.”

“Our story isn’t over yet,” he insists.

Tears roll down my cheeks. “Our story never got the chance to begin.”

His jaw clenches. He exhales, fighting against the emotion inside of him. He loses. A tear streams down his cheek. Angrily, he swipes it away.

We stand, and he takes me into his arms. I cling to him. His lips caress my cheek over and over. Each kiss I savor more than the last. Each kiss marks a goodbye.

Goodbye, once upon a time. Goodbye, Hatteras. Goodbye, happily ever after.

Goodbye, Peyton.

Brodee lets me go. He doesn’t smile when he looks me in the eyes. He tries to, but the muscles in his face revolt. “If I were a stoplight, I’d turn red, just so I could stare at you a little bit longer.”

I know he’s trying to bring levity and light into a crappy situation. I know the pick-up line is supposed to put a smile on my face. All it does is make me cry. I try to smile through the tears.

Brodee kisses me one last time before he steps down off the porch and doesn’t look back.

THE OCEAN IS
my solitude.

Whether I’m on the water or listening from a distance, the waves whisper to me. They call me home. It’s why I need to be here today. It’s the only home I know now.

As I straddle my board and wait for the next wave, the sun pauses on the horizon, peaking softly above the seamless ocean line as it rises. The beach is pretty quiet this morning. Only surfers occupy the water. It’s too early for anyone else to be here. I take the time to appreciate the stillness. With all that’s changed in the last week, it’s been difficult to find a moment of peace.

Brodee left this morning. I didn’t see him off. I didn’t have it in me, but I was up. So, I watched from my bedroom window that faces his bedroom, the way I’ve done so many times before. I watched as he looked to my window. I stayed in the shadows so he wouldn’t see me. Seeing me watching—caring—would only make it harder. I watched as he frowned and looked down, dejected, as he walked out of his room. I watched as he shut off his light switch and darkened the light in my heart.

I believe we’re made of bits and pieces. Pieces of everyone we know that make us who we are. We go throughout life giving and taking pieces of each other, building the basis of ourselves. We grow and transform. Some people get bigger pieces than others. I’d never realized how large of a piece Brodee was. Without him, half of me is missing. And I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back.

“Peyton-Parker,” Harper says, paddling up next to me. She says my name like it’s meant to be one word. Always. “Are you going to take the next wave? You’ve been sitting here for like thirty minutes. You’ve missed so many good ones.”

Looking to her, I slowly blink. I know she’s talking to me, but my brain hasn’t caught up to answer. Time doesn’t exist on the water. Hours could pass and the only reminder I’d have is the progression of the sun in the sky.

“I guess I just zoned out. It’s going to be nice out today.”

“Yeah. Should get up into the seventies later.” Harper squints as she looks out for the next wave, straddling her surfboard. The tan skin creases at the corner of her eyes. Water leisurely drips down her neck.

“How many have you gotten?” I ask.

“You’ve seriously been in your own world, huh? That was my third one, babe.” She pauses. “Have you ridden any yet?”

“I caught one.” I shrug.

To think, the summer is over and in one day we’ll be on our way to USC; it makes me more than melancholy. As ready as I am, this summer changed me, changed us. I’m terrified to live in the real world without the crutch of my home, though it feels less like a home now. A home should be a solace. Instead, mine’s broken chaos.

We float just beyond the break, the water gently rocking our boards until we see a good one coming.

“Oh, oh,” Harper exclaims. “Get ready for it. Go, go, go.”

I paddle hard until I reach the wave and stand, making the drop. With the wind in my face, I ride the wave. Just when I think it’s going to be clean sailing to shore, I wipe out. Tumbling under the water, I can’t find the surface. The waves keep crashing down over me. I’m starting to lose air, but I tell myself not to panic. I think of the only thing I can to calm down.
Brodee
. I repeat his name over and over. He’s my solid ground. He has the power to save me. I stop struggling and wait until I feel myself begin to float to the top. I finally break through, gasping.

Stumbling up the beach, I cough and spit out salt water. My throat burns. Once I reach our towels, I drop my surfboard on the sand and peel off my rash guard. It’s suffocating me.

I lay back on my towel in my bikini, letting the sun dry off my skin and breathe. Then I hear Harper jogging up. She sets down her board.

“Are you okay?” she asks with concern, kneeling down. “You took a pretty rough spill out there. I wasn’t sure you were going to surface.”

“Yeah. I’m good,” I say, clipped. “I just need to catch my breath for a second.”

Instances like this are a good reminders that, as much as the ocean is my home, sometimes it doesn’t want me to get too comfortable. It doesn’t have my back. I’m on my own out there. How metaphorically true of my life. I’m all on my own now.

After lying there for a few minutes, Harper asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What makes you think I have something to talk about?” I keep my eyes closed and my arm shielding my face.

“You can’t hide anything from me, Peyton-Parker. You’ve been really quiet this morning.” I hear her shift down, lying down beside me. “Over the years I’ve surfed with two different Peytons. There’s pumped, motivated Peyton who’s like a kid on Christmas morning when she gets good waves, and then there’s pensive, quiet Peyton who’s trying to solve world peace while on the water. I thought when you called last night about surfing, it was because these waves were supposed to be perfect, but something tells me it’s more than that.”

I turn my head. The sand shifts beneath my towel. “Am I that transparent?”

“Just to me.” She smiles gently. Her lips are pink from biting them.

After taking a breath, the pit in my stomach grows. I’m hollow. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

Harper’s eyes grow sad. “Maybe it’s for the best. It’s time to learn who you are, to take charge of your life, and live for you.”

“Yeah,” I say distantly. “Maybe.”

“You have me, you know? I’ll always be here to remind you of your strength and your worth. No matter what happens. It’s going to be okay.”

“I want it to be okay with him.”

“And maybe someday it will.” For some reason I doubt that. My brain has tried over and over to strategize ways to keep us from tearing apart, but not one solution gives me Brodee.

I hear my dad’s voice then,
Peyton Jane, there’s beauty in a new beginning.

I hope he’s right.