Trashed and Scattered

Jimmy turned onto the street he’d grown up, watching ghosts skip along the sidewalk as he slowed. Pulling himself from the allure of things that had been, his attention refocused on the curb that typically housed his car. He was enraged to find it taken. Reaching down into the passenger seat, feeling blindly around, he finally landed on a set of frames. He tossed them atop his nose, narrowing his eyes through the lenses to find Peyton had thieved his spot from him.
For reasons unbeknownst to him, he laughed. The move was a bit passive aggressive by any standard of hostility, but he undeniably deserved it. His laughter quickly faded to a sigh as he re-positioned his tires, pushing the car forward in search for a new spot. As he crossed over into the second block, he cursed Peyton’s name under his breath. Finally seizing an opportunity, Jimmy pulled the car over and dulled the engine into silence.
From within his seat, his spun around to judge the distance through the back window.
“Fucker,” he grumbled, letting his body untwist as he pulled the keys from the ignition.
He pushed his long legs from the car, towering over the world as he whined to himself. Maybe he’d deserved a punishment—but did she have to force him to the end of the road? It seemed a bit cruel. Nevertheless, he moved on, taking quick strides as he closed the distance from his car to his parents’ house.
Natalie had pushed her way through his front door that morning, screeching and howling like a hound dog. He’d let her go off, allowed her to persistently question his character. After nearly thirty long minutes of loudly cursing his existence, she’d resigned to be a sobbing mess. Women crying was like a weakness he simply couldn’t ignore.
He’d pulled her into his long arms and shushed her quietly, letting her rock back and forth as she demanded to know what was going on. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth—he wasn’t ready to break hers yet.
“Where were you?” she sobbed hysterically into his chest, beating the edges of her fist against his arm.
Jimmy sensed that the question didn’t actually require an answer, so he sat quietly as she wailed and writhed.
He bit at his tongue until tiny droplets of blood pooled together. The copper was a bitter reminder of his powerlessness in the situation. Anything he said to comfort her would be a lie. Even if he swore he loved her, he knew it was only partly true; and a half truth was just as vicious as a lie.
She leaned away from him, staring brokenly into his sad blue eyes.
“Where were you, Jimmy?” she demanded.
This time, Jimmy knew she was looking for response. Her gaze was burying itself inside of him, pulling at each of his senses in effort to break him down. Maybe she thought she was ready for the truth, Jimmy figured…but he knew she couldn’t handle it. There was a good chance she’d plunge a knife deep into his chest if he so much as breathed the name Peyton.
“I was here,” he offered her limply.
She recoiled, “Here?”
“Yes,” he nodded firmly. “Matt was driving me nuts. So…I bailed.”
Her forehead wrinkled with disdain, “And you didn’t think you should mention that to me? I told you I was bringing dinner.”
“You threatened to bring me dinner,” he corrected impatiently.
Her jaw hit the floor with a deafening thud.
“Bringing my boyfriend dinner isn’t exact a threat, Jimmy,” she retorted snidely.
He sighed, bored of having the same fight. This is it, he’d thought to himself. This is what I’ll do forever and ever until I die. Dying sounded so very peaceful in that moment.
“Don’t sigh at me,” she hissed.
“What else should I do?” he groaned. “You’re so fucking paranoid, Natalie.”
She gasped, “I’m paranoid?”
Oh, here we go.
“I’m paranoid?” she demanded, her fists clenched so tightly the pigment evaporated.
He nodded once, meeting her gaze with sharp intent, “Yep.”
With the force of a tornado, her open palm whipped across his cheek. The sting made his skin crawl with resentment, crusting and curdling into each and every fiber of his being. He took a long breath, tensing and releasing his hands for quick relief.
Natalie was unmoved. She showed absolutely no remorse, she offered no apology.
Suddenly Peyton’s stealing of his spot didn’t seem so bad. He’d take a petty move over a blatant bitch slap any day. Any day but today.
“Really?” was all Jimmy could think to say.
Natalie floundered in her angst, “I fucking hate you!”
“No you don’t,” he offered flatly, pushing her off of him and staggering away.
He needed to be far, far away from her. Her voice raked down his spine. Jimmy couldn’t help but wonder where the Natalie he’d fallen in love with had gone. Surely a piece of her must have still existed beneath that cold and deadened exterior. Somewhere inside of this angry best, a gem of adoration must still glimmer. Perhaps Jimmy had effortless buried the light for her, sacrificing her to the darkness that swelled within him with ease.
To Jimmy’s misfortune, Natalie followed close on his heels. She screeched at a decibel he was sure only huskies could hear. He pushed his fingers into his ears, which only made Natalie screech louder.
“Can you shut the fuck up?” Jimmy finally growled, his volume finally overthrowing hers.
She stumbled backward, hit by the shock of his impatience.
“Stop fucking yelling at me, Natalie!” he pressed irately. “I swear to god.”
Her lip quivered as she sank back into despair. There was no in between; unbridled rage or unrelenting sorrow.
“Please stop crying,” he said more softly. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, staring at him through the snapping vessels of blood in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he reiterated. “I don’t know what you think I’m doing…But you need to stop.”
She mustered up the courage to voice her insecurities.
“Are you fucking around on me, Jimmy?” she asked bluntly.
His face contorted itself into every direction.
“How the fuck can you ask me that?” he snapped.
She shrugged with her entire body, heaving a sigh, “You’re distant…You never pick up your phone…You never want to sleep with me anymore…You moved out, for Christ’s sake!”
“I did not move out,” Jimmy groaned, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m here to work, Natalie. I told you, I—”
“You tell me a lot of things, Jim,” she noted, her voice leveling out as she pulled back her tears. “But the truth isn’t one of them.”
Jimmy recoiled from the second slap of the day; this one stinging far worse than the first.
“Natalie,” he tried weakly.
She shook her head at him, doing her best not to break down, “I’m done, Jimmy. I’m done.”
“Natalie,” he tried again.
She turned on her heel, making a break for the door. If she slowed, she knew she’d never move. It was impossible to tear away from Jimmy; he had a unique ability to pull you in. His barbed wire hooks dug into her skin as he chased after her, wrapping his long fingers around her arm.
“Don’t go,” he said quietly.
She refused to turn around; she stood planted in the foyer. Her muscles began to seize as Jimmy’s breath snaked around her skin. She leaned into the sensation, not realizing how much she’d craved it.
“I love you,” he told her lowly, planting soft kisses up her neck.
“Do you?” she muttered coldly.
Jimmy rested his cheek against hers, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I’m so sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like I don’t,” he sighed. “You don’t deserve that.”
She sighed, “And what do I deserve, Jim?”
“To not be paranoid,” he huffed.
“You’re making me this way,” she reminded him, slipping out from his grasp to turn and look at him.
She needed to judge his sincerity—Jimmy was skilled in the art of manipulation. He always seemed to know exactly what she wanted to hear, and he’d offer it up as if he’d conjured the thought himself. It was all part of his intelligence, she thought. An allure that had bated her into his reach in the first place.
“Do you think I like this?” she asked him flatly. “I hate that I feel like I need to check up on you. I hate that I want to know where you are and what you’re doing. It’s driving me crazy, Jimmy. You’re making me crazy.”
He nodded solemnly, “I know.”
“I can’t live like this,” she quivered. “I can’t.”
The idea of Natalie leaving was all too real. It was too soon. He hadn’t had enough time to war with himself; his guns weren’t ready yet.
“I can be better,” he assured her. “We can go back to how it used to be.”
She shook her head, “I don’t think we can, Jimmy. You’re not the same. I don’t know what’s happened…But you’re different. I don’t…I don’t know what to do with it.”
He frowned at her.
“I should go,” she muttered.
“Natalie, please,” he whimpered.
She flinched away from his reaching hand, backing herself up against the door. Without looking, she eased her grip around the doorknob and cracked the front door open.
“I need to go,” she affirmed. “I can’t do this.”
Before he could get on his knees, she was gone. Jimmy stood dumbfounded, at a loss for action. Natalie surged through his mind, plaguing his thought like the world’s most heart wrenching montage. She’d decayed into a sick version of the woman she’d once been. Jimmy had robbed her of her life; he’d broken her passed the point of return.
He owed it to her to fix it. He owed it to their commitment to fix it.
But he knew Natalie well; she needed space. She’d never open her mind long enough to let him in from inside the state she’d worked herself into. So, Jimmy had abandoned his thoughts. He’d gone into work and he’d distracted himself with passion. In the moments that his mind would wander back to reality, it fixated itself on Natalie. Onto the things he should have said; the things he could still do.
That, he knew, was a choice.
Jimmy crossed into the block where he’d normally find his car, waiting in its spot like an ever-reliant watch dog. But as his steps slowed in their trot, his eyes stumbled upon an unearthly sight. In Peyton’s spot was the unmistakable markings of Brian Haner.
His black BMW shimmered in the California sun, shedding light on Jimmy’s disconnection. He winced from the blind, shielding his soul from the very real torment that unfurled. Peyton had taken his spot to give Brian hers.
He froze. The sound of his breathing echoed loudly in his ears, bouncing off the walls like bats fluttering through a cave.
“What am I doing?” he demanded of himself.
The sound of his own voice pulled him from the trenches. If love was a battlefield, Jimmy had stumbled on a landmine.
Was he really willing to throw everything to the side for a woman who couldn’t maintain her focus? Every ounce of chemistry that had brewed between them seemed to be dismissed as far as Peyton was concerned. She’d never given him the notion that she envisioned a future together. Had she not dove into the desire, Jimmy wouldn’t have been sure she felt anything for him at all.
She was the one insisting he not sabotage his own life. She was the one leaving. She was the one who instructed him to go home.
She didn’t want this, he knew then. She didn’t want him—and if she didn’t want him then, she wouldn’t want him ever.
Deciding that destiny was part of the stars, unattainable burnt out flames, Jimmy turned on his heel. Keeping his pace fueled by intent, he walked briskly back to his car and climbed back inside.
He owed it to himself to fix this. Natalie had never made him feel unwanted or unsure.
That’s all Peyton knew to do—from childhood to adulthood, she’d kept herself apart.
“Fuck it,” Jimmy growled to himself.
Brian could have her.

Notes

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