Trashed and Scattered

Jimmy and Peyton made their way slowly back to the cabin, weighted gravely by the things they’d said and the words left unspoken. Peyton was riddled in silence, taking solace in the body that moved lankily to her right. She craved for the times when that presence would bring her joy—now it was like salt in a fresh wound. He’d dug the stone deeper and deeper into her flesh, despite her guttural screams. It was too new to scab, but Peyton was sure she’d pick at the blisters when it did.
“Are we going to be okay?” Jimmy asked her as they neared the steps where he’d proclaimed his burning hatred the night before.
Peyton shook the horrendous visual away, “Yeah.”
There was no conviction in her tone, nor truth behind her word. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be alright without Wiley in her life in some capacity. To have him return to her side had been a whirlwind of misplaced assumptions and technicolor tragedy. Now all she wanted was to take it all back. She wanted to find a way to meander back in time and never step foot in California.
She’d go back and she’d change it all. She would have called. She would have written him every day. If she could start over, she would do it right.
They left their conversation in the lull of the woods, the blood still seeping deep into the soil where their hearts were buried together. Jimmy climbed the steps first, listening to Peyton’s heavy steps as she kept pace with him. She’d always had heavy feet; like an elephant storming around a library.
Brian was the only soul stirring so early in the morning. He turned from his place in the kitchen, watching as the troubled duo sheepishly sulked indoors. Jimmy waved, disappearing down the long hallway without another word.
“Where’d you go?” Brian asked Peyton quietly as she tip-toed to his side.
She sighed, “To make peace.”
“You okay?” he asked, his eyes fixated on the coffee grounds he was dumping into the back of the machine.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “Did I wake you up?”
He was tense, “Nope.”
Peyton could appreciate Brian’s awkward stance on the matter. She imagined what it must have been like to wake up alone only to find the woman you’d shared your bed with slink back into your existence with someone else.
With Jimmy.
He slammed the lid down, pushing the red button with far more aggression than warranted. He leaned himself against the cupboards, looking anywhere but at Peyton directly. There was a very real fear that if he looked at her then, her perfection radiating against the dim morning glow, he might go blind. It was risky to stare too far into the sun.
He was impressed by her will though. Despite his obvious irritation, she kept her feet firmly planted to the tile. Her gaze was soft, her face tired. They stayed that way, silently separated until the coffee sounded and offered a treaty between the pair.
“Coffee?” Brian grunted at her, instinctively polite.
She nodded.
He filled two cups, sliding hers down the counter so he wouldn’t have to touch her. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry, just that he was. If the Wile E. Coyote tattoo on her back wasn’t enough of a buzzkill, Jimmy’s little theatre show the night before offered homicide in spades. He’d stepped right in the middle of warring planets and his head was caving in. He never should have let himself get swept out to the green sea; he should have maintained some level of control.
But Peyton’s gaze was hypnotic and her scent was intoxicating. Her hips carved into his in such a way that resistance was futile. Brian seriously wondered how it was possible that Jimmy could have resisted her.
And then he wondered if Jimmy had resisted her at all.
“Kay,” Brian breathed awkwardly, desperate to escape his thoughts and the visuals that accompanied them.
He snatched his cigarette pack from the edge of the island and took off at a steady pace for the sanctuary of the outdoors. Peyton followed him, keen to get the murkiness out into the open to let it dissipate. He didn’t object as she pulled up a seat beside him.
His thumb pulled back the light’s trigger, casting a flame up to his waiting cigarette. The early morning smoke pulsed into his chest, relaxing his muscles as it roared up his blood.
“Peyton,” he said, smoke escaping his lips as he breathed her name.
“Yeah?”
“Are you in love with him?” he asked, decidedly unwilling to look at her.
Her face contorted into every direction as a scoff escaped from her throat, “No.”
He cocked an eyebrow, glancing lazily at her from the sides of his eyes, “You sure?”
“I don’t even know him,” she offered lamely.
“Were you in love with him?” he rephrased cautiously.
She sighed, already annoyed by the invasive interrogation, “I was eleven, Brian.”
“That doesn’t matter,” he grumbled. “I met Jimmy not long after you left. I remember the way he talked about you. He didn’t date until he was fucking sixteen because of you. That…really isn’t that long ago.”
“Because of me?” Peyton repeated incredulously. “I don’t see how Jimmy’s disinterest in women is my fault.”
Brian pointed at her with his cigarette, finally meeting her challenging gaze, “Let me fucking quote him for you.”
Peyton could sense his frustrations mounting. Her eyes softened, pleading with him to take mercy on her battered soul. She’d been through the ringer over the past twelve hours and wasn’t prepared for a secondary showdown so early in the morning.
“Lexi tainted girls for me, man. Seriously, no one will ever compare to her,” Brian worked out his best Jimmy impression, emphasizing the lisp to really drive the message home.
Peyton sighed.
“So,” Brian grunted with pursed lips, parting them only to take another drag of his cigarette.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” she muttered softly.
He shrugged his arms, “Well, too bad, Peyton. We’re talking about it.”
This was a side of Brian Peyton hadn’t seen yet. While she did her best to be understanding, it was a side of him she wasn’t particularly fond of. It was jealous and it was seething.
“Did you love him?” he repeated sternly.
She breathed so hard it nearly crawled out as a growl, “Yes.”
“Fuck,” Brian grumbled, giving his head a shake.
“But that was thirteen years ago, Brian,” Peyton continued on firmly. “We were kids. We’re not anymore; I don’t love him anymore.”
Brian wanted to listen. He wanted to hear the explanations she was offering. But all he could focus on was the way she’d light up around Jimmy; the way she’d follow him out of bed just to hear him speak.
“I think I owe you a bit of an explanation,” Peyton sighed. “If you want to hear it…”
He nodded absently, power pulling on his cigarette until it reduced to ash between his fingers. He swiftly flicked it over the rail of the deck and lit a second.
“I know that you know some shit about my past,” Peyton started carefully. “But I don’t know how much.”
“Vague shit,” he replied quietly. “I know your mom was a drug addict or an alcoholic or something…and that she liked to push you around.”
“She didn’t like it,” Peyton retorted sadly. “She needed it. She needed to control me…When she wouldn’t, she’d lose control of herself.”
Brian wasn’t sure how this tied into his current qualm, but he could recognize Peyton’s tried vulnerability. He pushed himself to relax enough to listen.
“She used to, um,” Peyton trailed, losing her moxie almost immediately. “She’d get her fix…And I’d always know because she’d take on this whole new appearance. Maybe it’s because I was a fucking kid…or maybe it’s because she really did change…Either way, I’d always know. And I’d run.”
The scenery Peyton was painting was ripping Brian’s heart in two. His cigarette burned with a life of its own as his attention fell to the troubled brunette by his side.
“I had this window in my room,” she went on, straining her eyes to see through the wall she’d built around her memories. “And sometimes, if I got a head start, I could make it to the window before she’d catch up…”
Peyton could still hear the writhing creature tearing up the stairs behind her. She could feel her skin splatter against the wooden steps as she lost her balance. She could feel the blood trickling from her body, abandoning her in a time of need.
“Wiley—sorry, Jimmy’s window was on the other side of this tree…And so, that’s where I’d go. I’d run away from my horrible fucking life and I’d slip into his comfortable life. He was always there. He never sent me away. He took me in…He took care of me.”
Brian felt insanely guilty. He’d been so worried about the weight of Jimmy’s connection to the beauty that he hadn’t considered there might be some deeper level working at its foundation. Peyton stumbled around her thoughts, trying her best to be open while still guarded. She wanted to let Brian in but she wasn’t ready to unload her universe onto his broad shoulders.
The only one that could shelter that weight was Jimmy.
“He was the only good thing about my entire childhood,” she said after a second of silence. “In eleven years, the only good times I had were with him…That doesn’t really go away. I think I’ll always have a soft spot for him. It would be dishonest to say I don’t. I do. But…It isn’t love. It isn’t really anything…It’s nostalgia.”
Peyton knew she was lying as she told it. But it was partly true and this version of the truth would engage a different side of Brian. She wasn’t ready to have the argument about love and about Jimmy and about how the two worked together. She wasn’t ready for Brian to pull away from her.
“I’m sorry I’m being a dick,” Brian finally spoke.
She shook her head lightly, “You have every right to feel whatever you’re feeling. But…I’m not hanging around with you as some sick vengeance shit. I promise.”
“There’s nothing going on there?” he asked pointedly. “If I stepped on Jimmy’s toes last night…”
Peyton silenced him with a smile, “There’s nothing going on there.”
He breathed in her denial, pushing it to cauterize his wounds.
“And what about here?” he smirked.
“Oh,” she laughed sharply. “There’s obviously something going on here.”
A tap at the window disrupted their amusement. They both glanced over to the door to find Natalie waving them in. Brian held his cigarette up in response, earning a tired nod before the figure retreated away.
Peyton pointed subtly over her shoulder with her thumb, “She knows who I am, doesn’t she.”
Brian cringed a little, “I’m not sure…Seems a bit like it.”
“What do I do?” Peyton asked him seriously.
“Nothing,” he shrugged. “Let her do her thing. If she figures it out, that’s Jimmy’s problem, not yours. It isn’t like you owe her anything.”
Peyton tried not to visually let on that his statement left her reeling. The guilt that consumed her picked at her bones until there was nothing left.
“Right,” she swallowed.
“Don’t worry about Natalie,” Brian assured her, lacing his fingers with hers. “Today will be better than last night.”
Natalie crept away from the door, trying to let Brian’s obvious fondness for Peyton erase everything she’d been suspecting. Her steps were quiet as she padded over to the coffee maker and dumped enough into her mug to fill it. Crystal pulled up a stool at the island, watching her friend with tired eyes.
“Morning,” she grumbled.
Natalie smiled, sliding a steaming cup of coffee to the tired woman before her, “Morning.”
“I’m feeling rough,” Crystal admitted, sinking onto her elbows.
Her friend nodded, “Me too…Maybe that game wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
Crystal’s curiosity perked up, “Speaking of which…What was with all your weird ass questions?”
“What do you mean?” Natalie asked passively, leaning onto the countertop across from her friend.
“You were throwing some weird shit out,” Crystal noted. “Any particular reason?”
Natalie glanced around sketchily, ensuring they were as alone as they seemed. She leaned closer to Crystal, keeping her voice just barely passed a whisper.
“Do you think it’s possible Peyton isn’t Peyton at all?”
Crystal did her very best to stifle her laugh, “What?”
Natalie rolled her eyes, “You know Lexi?”
“Lexi?” Crystal repeated confusedly. “Who’s Lexi?”
“You know,” Natalie sighed. “Jimmy’s Lexi.”
“Oh,” she nodded, her eyes widened with realization. “That Lexi. What about her?”
Natalie stared expectantly across the island. All internalized pressing was for naught, though. Crystal didn’t understand.
“Do you think Peyton could be Lexi?” Natalie finally asked outright.
Crystal’s face turned all shades of appalled, “What? No fucking way.”
“No?” Natalie asked sarcastically.
Crystal considered it briefly but immediately shut it down.
“Where are you getting that crazy theory from?”
Natalie shrugged with a sigh, “Jimmy’s been acting super weird ever since she showed up…They have a lot of whispered conversations…She’s an artist, for heaven’s sake…He stares at her constantly...”
“Well, yeah,” Crystal laughed. “Have you seen her? I stare at her constantly too. That girl is a fox.”
“I don’t know,” Natalie breathed. “Then Matt’s weird little move last night…Do you think it’s possible?”
Crystal eyed her friend suspiciously, “I think you didn’t get enough sleep, Nat.”
“I’m serious,” she maintained. “There’s something weird going on.”
Crystal thought about everything she’d seen so far. But until that point, all she’d really noticed was Brian’s doting after the newcomer. She hadn’t seen a lot of evidence indicating Peyton was anyone than who she claimed to be. She struggled to find logic behind Natalie’s paranoia.
“That would be a crazy scheme to cover up,” Crystal shrugged. “Wouldn’t someone know who she was? What about Matt? He was around during the Lexi era, wasn’t he?”
Natalie nodded, “Yeah…”
In a hurry, Natalie dashed away from her pensive friend. She knocked at Matt’s door, elated to find him awake and dressed. She asked for his presence in the kitchen, happily trotting back to Crystal with Matt on her heels. Crystal groaned to herself at the sight of the hunky singer—there was no length Natalie wasn’t willing to go to appease her curious soul.
“Matt,” she started, sinking into the stool next to Crystal. “We were just talking about Lexi.”
“Lexi?” Matt asked coolly, despite the serious knock in his chest. “Lexi who?”
Natalie rolled her eyes, “Jimmy’s Lexi.”
“Oh!” Matt faked surprised. “Why the fuck are you talking about her?”
“Why not?” Crystal countered.
Matt fixed himself a cup of coffee, mostly in effort to shield his panicked face from their view.
“What did she look like?” Natalie asked, feigning curiosity.
“I don’t know,” Matt lied. “It was a long time ago.”
Natalie whined, “Oh, come on. I’ve always been so curious. I want to know what Jimmy’s first love looked like. Was she pretty?”
“Yeah,” Matt groaned, whirling around and leaning against the base cupboards. “She was.”
“Give me more,” Natalie coaxed.
Matt glanced around, praying for divine intervention to save his morning—and his friends.
“She, um,” Matt thought aloud, “she was kind of short…thin…”
“What colour were her eyes?”
Matt was sure then that Peyton had been right; this was a witch hunt. Natalie was onto the master scheme.
“Blue I think,” he replied without flinching. "Maybe green. I can't remember."
Natalie caught this answer with bitter silence.
“Anyway,” Matt rushed, catching sight of Brian’s head out the window. “I’m going to go smoke now…It was a long time ago, Nat. There’s not really a point being curious about her now.”
Matt slipped away before Natalie or Crystal had a chance to interrogate him further.
“There you have it,” Crystal announced. “Lexi was kind of short and had blue or maybe green eyes. Does that make you feel better?”
“No," Natalie sighed, unable to shake the feeling like something bigger was at work here.
But Matt could have lied. Jimmy had talked in great detail about the uniquely green hues that were woven into Peyton's eyes, so Natalie had expected brown as Matt's response. He'd answered truthfully which made Natalie only slightly less suspicious. Something about Peyton just didn't sit right with Natalie.
"You know," Crystal mused from behind her coffee cup. "If you're really that sure Peyton's leading a double life--which is insane, by the way--why not just ask Jimmy's mom?"
Natalie tilted her head, "Ask her what?"
"What Lexi's real name was," Crystal said like it was obvious. "Wasn't Lexi a nickname?"
Her friend grinned deviously, "Good catch, Crys."
She nodded her head, judging her crazy friend beyond belief, "You're nuts."
Matt pulled the door shut, looking infinitely worried as Peyton and Brian looked up to him. The air outside was eerily calm given the storm brewing on the other side of the glass.
“What’s wrong?” Brian asked lightly.
Matt winced, looking back and forth between the brunettes, “Dude, Natalie totally fucking knows.”

Notes

Uh oh

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