The Day That Saved Us (31 page)

“SHE DOESN’T EAT
Kit Kats right. It’s sinful.”

“What?” Peyton asks. She heard me, but she thinks I’m crazy.

“She eats them all wrong—just takes a big bite off the top, not breaking them apart as they were intended.”

“Are you telling me you can’t be with this Brooke girl because she eats Kit Kats wrong?” Peyton is laughing now.

“That’s precisely what I’m saying,” I tell her, trying to keep a straight face. “How can I be with someone who can’t take the time to break them apart? So lazy. So careless.” I crack and start to laugh.

“You realize how silly that sounds, right? She’s beautiful. She’s obviously smart if she’s graduating with an engineering degree. She’s willing to put up with you, which is no easy feat. How are these things getting overlooked?”

Because she’s not you.

It’s like Peyton can hear my thoughts through the phone. She’s immediately quiet, but not because she’s waiting for my response. Her silence is uncomfortable.
Fix it, Brodee.
“Oh, and she’s definitely not a morning person.”

That gets a chuckle. “Yes, that’s a definite deal breaker.”

I laugh with her. “You’d think so.”

“I hear a ‘but’ in there…”

“She’s the real deal, you know? So, I’m gonna try. We’re going to see where this goes.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Peyton’s voice is strained, but only a little. Anyone who doesn’t know her might not detect it, but I can. It’s off just enough. I also know that even if my new relationship bothers her, she’ll do nothing about it.

So I ask, “How are things with Tyler?”

She clears her throat. “We’re going strong. We just passed the one-year mark. Crazy, right? It’s weird to think it’s been that long already. I feel like I just bumped into him at that party.”

“So, nothing’s changed?” I let that sink in, to make her think I’m asking something deeper. It’s cruel and immature, but I want to make her squirm. “He still the same Tyler we knew in Hatteras?”

She grunts. “Just a grown up version. Did you know Rylie transferred to USC after her second semester to be with Tyler?”

I nearly choke. “Whaaaaat?”

“Yup. Apparently, after their month-long fling at the end of the summer she thought he was going to be
the one
.”

“Ha. Imagine her disappointment when you came along.”

“Oh, no. Tyler broke things off with her a year before we met back up. So, the poor thing transferred back to UNC soulmate-less.” Peyton pauses. “I do feel kind of bad for her though. I want to know what kind of support system she had that let her make that kind of a mistake. Following a boy to another college. That’s just poor decision-making skills.”

“Did Tyler ask her to?”

“Nope. At least not that he told me. He said one day she showed up on his doorstep.
Surprise!
”

“Wow.” I snort. “That’s something.”

“Yeah.” Peyton’s laughter fades along with mine.

It was nice. For a moment it felt like we were us again, our banter covering up all the awkward bullcrap. I’m so tired of it. I want us back.

There’s a soft knock on my bedroom door. None of my roommates would knock that quietly. I pull the phone away from my mouth and holler, “Yeah?”

Brooke’s head peeks around and she lifts a small wave. “Hey.”

I sit up on my bed. “Oh, hey!”

“Is someone there?” Peyton asks.

“Brooke just showed up. I gotta go. We’ll talk later.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay. Sounds good.”

“Bye, Pete.”

I hang up and motion for her to come in. Brooke sits on the edge of my bed as I scoot forward, setting my feet on the floor beside her. I brush the hair from her green eyes, tucking it behind her ear, and kiss her. She smells like peppermint, as always. I’m not sure if it’s the stuff she puts in her hair or a perfume or what, but it’s becoming my favorite scent.

“Who was that?” Because she doesn’t sound accusatory, only curious, I answer honestly. Not that I wouldn’t tell her the truth, but I feel comfortable being honest.

“Oh, that was my friend, Peyton.”

She motions to the frame I have on my nightstand. Her smile is faltering. “The beautiful, blonde one.”

“That would be the one. But you can just call her Peyton. Most people do.” That gets Brooke to laugh. “We were just catching up. She was telling me about her boyfriend, and I was telling her about my girlfriend.”

“Oh, yeah? You have a girlfriend? Should I be worried about her?” She shyly bites her bottom lip. It’s not coy or flirtatious, which makes the gesture cuter and more tempting.

“Maybe. She’s kind of territorial, but she has this really cute dimple that makes it difficult to take her seriously.” I softly poke the little indentation in her right cheek.

Brooke swats my hand away and bubbles with laughter. Her laughter is throaty and sexy. It’s the kind of sound that isn’t forced. It’s genuine and makes me feel like the funniest person alive. “Shut up.” Her hand covers her dimple as she flushes red.

“Don’t cover it. It’s my favorite.” I remove her hand, kiss her palm, and then press my lips to her right cheek. The blush on her cheeks deepens.

When she looks at me she asks, “So, you call her Pete?” The nickname has a tendency to throw off anyone who doesn’t know us.

“Peyton Parker. Peter Parker. Spider-Man,” I explain the progression. “So I call her Pete. I started calling her that when we were really young, and I was obsessed with superheroes. Spider-Man in particular.”

“Ah, yes. As most young boys are. So, I hope you were telling her all good things about that girlfriend of yours.” She sucks on her bottom lip nervously, and my eyes are drawn straight to her mouth. She’s got to stop doing that or I won’t be able to control myself.

“Well, aside from the way she eats her Kit Kats and hate mornings, only good things.” I grin. Brooke smacks my shoulder. I pull her face to mine and get lost in the peppermint and a new life.

I’M STRAPPING MY
surfboard to the top of my Patriot when I hear the Parkers’ garage door open. I don’t care that it’s technically my dad’s and Olivia’s now; that house will always belong to the Parkers. It’s too early for either of them to be up on a Saturday. Then I spot Peyton walking around Olivia’s brand new Audi before sliding her surfboard into the open trunk. She turns around and stops when she sees me standing in my driveway, watching her.

I don’t know why I was assuming she would stay in North Carolina with Tyler after Christmas. No one told me she was coming back. They probably assume Peyton and I talk all the time. As her best friend, I should know these things.

“You’re staying with our parents?” I ask. While we’re all amicable now, I know that’s the last place she’d want to stay for long periods of time. It occurs to me that I have no idea what she has planned until she gets married.

“Just until the wedding,” she calls back and walks across her driveway toward the bushes at our property line. I meet her there, at the edge of my driveway. “I needed to be home with my mom to plan. And Tyler is helping in his dad’s office to gain some experience until we get married. We figure the more money we can save before the wedding, the better.”

I don’t know what I thought, but I didn’t expect Peyton and me to ever live next door to each other again. It might only be three weeks, but I’m already dreading it.

How does my mom do it?

“That sounds like a party,” I say, and she laughs.

“Every day. You heading out on the waves?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d check out Folley. Surf looks pretty decent.”

“Care if I join you? I was heading that way too.”

We haven’t talked since Harper and Skylar’s wedding. I don’t know if she hates how we ended that night as much as I do, but to me, it feels like she wants to make it right. Our lives are infinitely connected, so we might as well try to make it work. We couldn’t do it before, but maybe this time will be different. She has Tyler. I have Brooke. Maybe we can go back to the beginning.

“Yeah,” I say. “Grab your board. I’ll drive.”

THE DRIVE TO
Folley Beach isn’t as uncomfortable as I imagined it might be. We talk about the last year and all that we’ve missed. The things short phone calls and texts to make sure the other is still alive don’t cover. She tells me about all the classes she’s relieved to be done with and the teachers she was sad to leave. She talks about her borderline sexual harassing boss who she is incredibly grateful to be rid of. If he weren’t in Columbia, I’d put this surfing trip on hold and walk right into that restaurant to kick his trash. She never mentions Tyler, and it’s the best part of the conversation.

Peyton asks me about Boston, and we talk about all the things I would’ve told her about the job had we been on better terms. We talk about Carter and what a mess he is, though I say it with all the brotherly love that I have for him. He’ll find out quickly or the hard way that partying through college won’t get him very far in life. She asks about Brooke and how things have progressed since we last talked about her. Gosh, I can hardly remember the last time we talked about Brooke. It could’ve been when Brooke and I very first started dating.

They would get along better than I think either of them realize. I’m not sure I’m ready for that. I’d never win with them together in a room.

I clear my throat. “She’s coming to Boston with me. I mean, since I kind of sprung it on her before Christmas, it’ll be a month before she can get out there with me, but I think it’ll be good for us.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’ll be great for you two.” Her tone is difficult to decipher. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was hard for Peyton to hear the news, but I know I’m misinterpreting it. This must be her excited voice now. Maybe Tyler has changed that too.

“I think so. We need a fresh start. Since neither of us has family or any connections in Boston, it’ll be an adventure for us both.”

“What’s Tate going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, with you in Boston and Carter out of the house. Is she really going to stay in that house?”

“She hasn’t told me otherwise.”

“She’s braver than I am.” Peyton’s voice drifts off as she stares out the passenger window. There was a time when I could ask her anything and she’d answer.
Honestly
. I want to ask what she means by her comment, but I know she’d never tell me the truth.

ONCE WE’RE OUT
on the waves, we fall right back into the groove we once had. Salt water is our cure. There are no words. We don’t need them. Only ocean waves and wind lapping against our ears. When I look to Peyton, straddling her surfboard on top of the water, and she smiles, it feels like all our bitterness and distance is washed away. Her face is free of makeup, letting her freckles show. We’re back to being Peyton and Brodee. Best friends. We get to begin again.

HEARING BROOKE’S VOICE
reminds me how excited I am to move to Boston with her. It’s easy to fall back into the comfort of Charleston and home, especially after being on the water with Peyton today. I was beginning to second-guess my decision to up and relocate. Boston is pretty far away, and my mom could use the support here, but I know it’s the right decision.

Maybe these next couple weeks won’t be so bad with Peyton next door after all. If I can keep my focus and forget about the past, Peyton might let me back in. We can pick up the pieces of our deteriorating friendship.

“So, I gave my two-week notice to my boss.”

“Already?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’ll be able to move to Boston at the same time as you.”

“Brooke, that’s awesome! I really wasn’t looking forward to trying to figure out what to do in the city until you got there.” I laugh.

“And now you don’t have to. I’ve done some research. There are tons of places I want to visit and explore. There’s this place called the Back Bay, and Jamaica Pond, and the Esplanade. Did you know Cape Cod is only an hour from Boston? We
have
to go. And I think a Red Sox game is a given. Promise you won’t judge me for being a tourist in the beginning.” It’s likely she hasn’t yet taken a breath while talking.

I laugh again. “We can be tourists together. You just name the places, and we’ll make it happen. So, your family is good with you moving to Boston with me?”

She pauses briefly. “It’s taking my parents a little getting used to the idea, having me so far away, but they’ll be okay. Honestly, I don’t need their approval. I want to be with you.”

Those words are the only ones I need from her. “I love you, Brooke.”

“I love you, too.”