Trashed and Scattered

Jimmy hadn’t come around over the next few days, which unnerved Peyton more than she cared to admit. With every dip of the sun, she’d halfheartedly wait for a commotion at the door. When nothing came, she’d retreat to her bed—and wait for the tapping at the window. Lingering over the room like a ghost shackled by tragedy, silence befell Peyton.
By Friday morning, she was ready to live again. Brian had lent his handyman skills sporadically, pushing Peyton’s renovations nearer to completion. It was almost too fast, stirring up mixed emotions within her. So, when Brian had offered to spend his day off peeling wallpaper from the upstairs hallway, Peyton had declined. Instead, she’d suggested Brian make good on his offer to act as a surfing instructor.
His response was an enthusiastic fuck yeah.
He’d picked her up just before noon, as the sun was climbing to its highest point in the Orange County sky. They chatted like old friends as Brian navigated the short distance down to the city beach.
“How is it possible,” Brian snickered, shifting the car into park, “that you love Coldplay but also have a working knowledge of Mr. Bungle. That makes no fucking sense, Peyton.”
She smiled, “What can I say? I like everything!”
“Apparently just not Avenged Sevenfold,” Brian leered over at her pointedly.
The burn of embarrassment singed at Peyton’s cheeks, “Jimmy told you about that, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” Brian grinned cheekily. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you up to speed.”
She smirked, “I’m already up to speed. I’ve committed the drum tracking to memory already.”
“What?” Brian half-gasped. “Drum tracking? For…Waking the Fallen? Like, the whole album?”
“Yes,” Peyton spoke slowly, as not to confuse the guitarist any further. “You know, sometimes when you listen to an album…you can dissect the progressions…”
He snickered, “Don’t fucking patronize me. I just…I had no idea you could play the drums.”
She nodded, shrugging at the thought, “I play a bit of everything.”
“Go on,” he pressed, growing further intrigued by the forbidden fruit sat in the seat next to him.
“I don’t know,” she grumbled, feeling suddenly bashful. “I can play the guitar…and the piano…and the drums…A bit of violin…I tried tuba a few years back but that was an epic fail.”
He stared at her with wide eyes. The pressure of his gawking made Peyton weak, she curled away from its intensity.
“Are you sure we can’t date?” Brian finally laughed.
She rolled her eyes playfully, latching her hand to the door handle, “Are we going or what?”
“We’re going, we’re going,” he assured her hurriedly, pushing himself from the confines of his BMW.
The lesson was shaky at best. Peyton had failed to mention that she had a lingering fear of open water—and was entirely unbalanced. Brian had never seen anyone slip and slide for absolutely no reason quite like Peyton Winchester could.
“You know what,” Brian eased, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Why don’t we start easy.”
“Easy is good,” Peyton smiled sheepishly.
He laughed, “Come on.”
They headed into the frigid water together, Peyton on a borrowed board of Brian’s. It was his personal favourite, but he’d held no qualms over sharing it with her. He used his backup, which had been stuffed in storage for over a year. He figured there was hardly a better opportunity to pull it out.
They paddled out passed the waves and the surfers catching them. They continued out until the water was calm and the only sound playing against their ears were the cries of gulls off in the distance. Peyton sat up slowly, nervous atop the fumbling of the board. Brian watched her with curiosity, admiring the way she pushed past the fear and committed herself to conviction. Once she was upright, he mimicked her position.
They floated atop the ocean, admiring the endless horizon as it sprawled out to meet the sun. Peyton’s gaze wandered to the brown eyed guitarist minding his own business. The rays of light bounced along his tanned skin, illuminating each and every one of his muscles.
She found herself doubting her decision. She’d seen more of Brian in the last three days than she’d seen of Jimmy in the last week. Brian was available; Jimmy was not.
But Brian wasn’t Jimmy.
Resolved to the friendship she’d insisted they maintain, Peyton stifled the feelings rupturing from her chest. With both hands, she scooped them up and forced them back inside her ribcage. They gurgled with rebellion as they settled into their new resting place.
“So, what do you think?” Brian asked her, making light waves in the ocean as he paddled closer to her.
She smirked, “Well…Surfing is hard. Floating is nice.”
“Yeah?” he half-laughed, admiring the way her dark hair fell against her back.
He’d insisted she put it up but she’d refused. Part of him figured she’d known her attempt to surf would be a massive failure—but she’d agreed to come along anyway. Whatever friendship they were manifesting, he wasn’t sure it would be strong enough to counteract the lust that still lingered thickly between them every time their eyes met. Brian wasn’t sure he’d ever lose the urge to pull her body to his.
He’d tried to talk to Jimmy about it, unsure how to properly convey what had been happening and faltering through his thoughts. But Jimmy had been in a less than productive mood over the passed few days; all Brian could get out of him beyond grunts and grumbles was that he and Natalie had had a massive fight. Jimmy said he’d patched it up and smoothed it over, but that he’d be focusing on Natalie for a while. Brian couldn’t shake the nagging feeling like he’d done something wrong, or Jimmy at least thought he’d done something wrong.
In all of their years of friendship, they’d hardly fought at all. They’d never taken interest in the same things; guitars, drums, surfing, basketball, women. There hadn’t been much to fight over, they’d never had to share. Brian figured he was projecting his own guilt onto Jimmy’s warring mind. It was possible Jimmy’s mood had absolutely nothing to do with Brian or with Peyton. It wasn’t always easy to tell with Jimmy.
So, Brian had pocketed the conversation topic and saved it for another day. But Jimmy had been distant and strange each day after—the second he’d finished recording, he’d disappear into the world without so much as a goodbye. He must have really been trying to make things right at home, Brian had thought.
“I could stay out here all day,” Peyton said into the sky, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
Brian marveled over at her, memorizing her beauty as if she were some renaissance painting tucked into a forgotten room in a museum. How had no one snatched her up? How was it possible that she was unattached and available? It seemed implausible to him that no one had caught onto her divine intrigue.
“Don’t you miss the ocean while you’re home in New York?” Brian asked curiously, daring himself to pull his focus from her.
She sighed, “I didn’t know to miss it…I was so little when I left…I will now.”
He smirked, “You could always stay.”
Her eyes shot open as her lips fell into a grin, leaning over to assess his seriousness, “Don’t do that to me, Brian.”
He laughed, raising his hands up in defense, “I’m not doing anything!”
“It’s tempting,” she said shallowly, surprising herself.
“What is?” he asked, only a little confused. “Staying?”
It was all tempting. Brian was tempting. Abandoning her reasoning and logic was tempting. Basking in the California sun for the rest of her mortal days was tempting.
The temptation was difficult to resist, she was learning quickly. Some more than others. But she wasn’t ready to leave Huntington yet; which she took for exactly what it was worth. It was, by no means, a life sentence. However, she could be content to stick around for a while.
“Yeah,” Peyton sighed. “I love the warm air. I love the beach and the ocean…”
“And the company, right?” Brian grinned, winking over at her lazily.
Her insides began to squirm, pooling in their own uncertainty. With a forceful shove, she maneuvered them back into place.
“It’s not so bad either,” she grinned back.
An uncomfortable silence fell over them as they each repositioned their respective allures. Peyton’s hand lingered against the ocean’s surface, her fingers tingling from the touch. She made small ripples, watching the way they’d spread out slowly.
“You’re cute,” Brian noted fondly, watching with amusement as Peyton got a kick out of her own little game.
She scoffed, “I’m cute?”
“Yup,” he nodded. “I bet you were the cutest fuckin’ kid. All bright eyed and bushy tailed.”
“I have never been bright eyed or bushy tailed,” she informed him with a passive laugh. “I was pretty cute though. You know, when I wasn’t stitched together like a rag doll.”
Brian flinched, causing Peyton immediate regret. She was always stepping too casually through her childhood trauma, forgetting that she didn’t walk among zombies.
“Sorry,” she sighed instinctively.
He waved her off, but curiosity got the better of him.
“Do you talk to her?” Brian asked slowly, refusing to look over at her.
She fell entirely silent.
“Sorry,” he rushed. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”
Peyton breathed, “I haven’t spoken to my mother since I was eleven…Not a call, not a letter…Nothing.”
The sorrow in her voice surprised Brian. From all the stories he’d heard and all the tales Jimmy had told, Brian had expected Peyton to be cold about her mother. He’d expected anger and hostility, not a single ounce of sadness. But there it was, laced into the velvet of her voice like a patch.
“That’s fucking shitty,” was all Brian could think to say.
Peyton nodded her head absently, “It’s definitely for the best. She wasn’t exactly in the running for mother of the year.”
“Was she ever a mother?” Brian asked. “Do you have any good memories of her?”
“No,” Peyton answered sharply, her ocean-stained hand mindlessly finding the scar stretching out beneath her hair.
Brian frowned, “I’m sorry.”
Peyton scoffed a little, “Why? It isn’t your fault.”
“No,” Brian hesitated. “But everyone deserves a decent childhood…It’s the better part of life. Or it’s supposed to be, anyway…I’m sorry you didn’t fucking get that. That wrecks me, man.”
“It wrecks you?” Peyton laughed.
Brian nodded, “I hate that you were ever hurt.”
Peyton smiled, “It’s okay. Shit happens, I guess…So what if my mother never loved me.”
The statement fell on them both with the same impact. Peyton had never thought of it aloud. It bashed against her skull with the weight of the world.
“That’s fucking heavy,” Peyton tried to recover. “Way too heavy for a Friday afternoon.”
“Fuck that it is,” Brian dismissed. “Like I said, I’m more than good looks.”
Peyton caught herself falling. She kicked at her insides this time, scolding them for shifting.
“What was your childhood like?” Peyton asked curiously, moving passed the ache in her heart.
Brian shrugged, “Normal.”
“What the fuck is normal?” Peyton quizzed pointedly.
“Good point,” he smirked. “It was good. I don’t know. My parents split up…That was kind of rough. But my dad’s wife is really fuckin’ cool. I like her a lot…So, I guess it was a good thing in the long run.”
“It’s not always as simple as being with the one you love,” Peyton replied, thinking sadly of her own father’s fate. “Sometimes it’s better to let them go.”
“Sometimes it is,” Brian agreed, kicking his feet subtly beneath the water.
“What about you?” Peyton asked then, looking over at him. “Have you left any loves behind?”
Brian scrunched up his face, “No way. I’ve left lovers behind…Does that count?”
“Sure,” Peyton laughed, throwing him a bone.
“What about you?” he asked.
Besides Jimmy? Peyton thought to herself, deciding immediately to keep it in its cage.
“One or two,” she shrugged. “One worth leaving for sure.”
“Oh?” Brian pressed lightly, feigning disinterest but anxiously waiting for explanation.
She grunted a little to herself, “His name was Jared.”
“Jared?” Brian groaned. “Enough fuckin’ said.”
Peyton laughed sharply, her entire face lighting up. Brian savored the sound.
“No shit,” she concurred, still hiccupping from the laughter. “He was…Great. At first.”
“Aren’t they all,” Brian sighed.
She nodded, “And then you get to see who they really are…and it’s never good.”
Brian paused, “If it isn’t good, it’s the wrong person. Love should be…incredible. That’s how I’ve always imagined it anyway. It should be something that socks you in the fucking face with realness. Otherwise, it’s a waste of time.”
Peyton was practically panting by this point. It seemed like every time Brian Haner would open his mouth, she’d fall deeper and deeper into his trap of charm. He was intelligent and articulate, compassionate and curious. The fact that he seemed just as inquisitive about her as she was about him was icing on the bittersweet cake.
The pair talked for a while longer until the heat of the sun had burnt its way too fiercely into their backs. With hesitation and regret, they paddled back to shore. Peyton dropped herself into the water as soon as she could see bottom, relishing in the cool water against her burnt skin. She’d predict she’d be lobster coloured by morning, no doubt about it.
After she’d cooled herself off adequately enough to starve off heat stroke, she retired to the sandy shore and collapsed next to Brian. She did her best not to drool over his physique.
You’re not supposed to ogle your friends, she reminded herself.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Brian asked her abruptly. “Working? No, you don’t start until…”
“Monday,” she finished for him.
He nodded, “Then my question stands.”
“This weekend meaning…Tomorrow?”
Brian smiled, “Right.”
“No plans,” she shrugged. “Why?”
“Well,” Brian paused, building up his courage. “We’re headed to—”
“Brian?” a shrill woman’s voice cried out.
His face flinched with perplexity, scanning the beach for a familiar face. He was horrified to find Natalie bounding his way—with Jimmy in tow. Brian knew how this must look to Jimmy and quietly cursed himself for not, at least, giving Jimmy the cliff notes. Even if the cliff notes were simply that Brian and Peyton were friends.
“Fancy seeing you here!” Natalie called once she was a reasonable distance from him.
Peyton tensed up as she realized who had been ascending upon them. At least, she’d thought, Jimmy isn’t dead. He was just holed up with his girlfriend. A sentiment that had her leaning into Brian, figuratively anyway.
“What’s up, guys?” Brian asked casually as they positioned themselves before the lounging brunettes.
Natalie smiled, “It was too beautiful of a day to waste.”
“Ah,” Brian nodded.
“What are you two doing?” Jimmy asked, a hint of venom spilling out between his syllables.
Peyton scoffed at the tone.
Brian shrugged, committed to keeping everything civil, “I was trying to teach Peyton to surf.”
“Turns out I’m not a great student,” Peyton added with a smile.
Natalie giggled, “I’m a terrible surfer. I’m far too clumsy.”
“Me too,” Peyton forced to maintain her smile.
“Cute,” Jimmy muttered.
“Are you still coming to Johnny’s tonight?” she asked Brian specifically.
Brian nodded, “The short shit can’t pack his car on his own—he can’t even see over the taillights.”
This made Jimmy laugh.
“Okay, great,” Natalie smiled. “We’ll see you there then.”
Brian pursed his lips, awkward tension settling onto the small group as Natalie’s eyes wandered across Peyton’s beach body. There’s nothing like another woman to bring out the insecurities in yourself.
“We’ll let you get back to your surfing,” Natalie smiled, waving a little as she pushed at Jimmy with her free hand.
He, too, couldn’t take his eyes off of Peyton’s beach body. But his eyes burned as his gaze moved just inches to her left and found Brian’s apologetic stare burning into his skull. Jimmy tried not to murder him with sheer power of will.
“Anyway,” Brian muttered once they were a few steps away. “Like I was saying—”
“Hey, Bri?” Natalie called, spinning back around.
He rolled his eyes which had Peyton in stitches. He stapled a casual grin to his face as he turned to meet his best friend’s girlfriends shrill voice.
“Did you invite Peyton this weekend?” she asked politely. “If you didn’t, you should.”
“Why would he invite Peyton?” Jimmy’s voice could be heard questioning his girlfriend’s brain.
She scowled, “Isn’t she his girlfriend?”
For someone engaged in a private conversation, they were hardly quiet about it. Brian smiled sympathetically over at poor Peyton, who looked so tense she might die on the spot.
“Oh,” Jimmy mouthed. “Right.”
“Anyway,” Natalie dismissed Jimmy, turning her focus back to the brunette pair. “Did you?”
Brian laughed, “Was just getting to it, Nat.”
“Oh good!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together like a seal. “You should definitely come, Peyton! It’s going to be so much fun!”
Natalie waved again as Jimmy forcefully dragged her away. Peyton’s eyes lingered on Jimmy as he moved himself further and further from her. He hadn’t said hello; he hadn’t said a thing. His silence hit Peyton like a bus she’d purposefully stepped out in front of. Her own choices began to stab at her.
“She’s fucking awkward,” Brian snickered quietly, daring to meet Peyton’s gaze.
He was relieved to find her face painted with amusement.
Peyton grinned slyly, “So where am I going?”

Notes

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