Trashed and Scattered

Peyton watched Jimmy with unparalleled curiosity as he plunked a couple slices of pizza onto a plate and slipped it into the microwave. With a bump of his hip and a turn of a dial, the appliance whirred to life. She couldn’t help but notice his fixation on the swirling of the food; an interest, she was sure, fueled by a desire to peer anywhere but at her. Oh, how the times had changed.
She sank into a kitchen chair, tapping her thumbs quietly against her thigh in the world’s most uncomfortable rhythm. Jimmy glanced over at her lazily, offering up a fiercely forced smile. He, too, began the song of the anxious.
“So…” Peyton finally spoke, doing her best to bridge the gap that had fallen between them sometime passed the fifth step. “What have you been up to?”
He shrugged, “Nothing…Recording…”
She nodded.
He thought about offering up some sort of extension of his thoughts. The studio had been tense as hell; everyone seemed to have run to their respective corners and would meet in the middle only when beckoned. Brian had practically disappeared, opting to turn up once Jimmy had left for the day. Jimmy wasn’t sure which of his comrades was acting as the little birdy orchestrating Brian’s timing, but he decided it didn’t matter. He was, for the first time in his life, thankful not to have to see his best friend.
The way Peyton looked under the glow of his parents’ kitchen lights was enough to leave Jimmy wishing for more. He wanted to tell her the ins and outs of his life, of his thoughts. He wanted to tell her what had happened with Natalie and ask what she thought about the revelations Natalie had conjured up. He wanted desperately to apologize for the things he’d said and the way he’d behaved.
But her affection for Brian stopped him.
It was less about rivalry this time. He’d seen what their feuding had done to her. If he could help to make her life less painful, then he’d do everything in his power to be of assistance. Above the Brian issue, Jimmy wasn’t feeling particularly clear when it came to matters of the heart. His head was clouded and his feelings confused. Until he had a better grasp on which way was up, it was best not to let Peyton down.
“What about you?” he returned the half-hearted inquiry.
“Nothing…” she answered slowly. “Working.”
This piqued his interest, “Working? Here?”
“No, Jimmy,” she half-laughed, a devious grin spreading faintly across her features. “I’ve flown back and forth to New York for work.”
He smirked against his will, “Touché.”
The awkward sea flowed back in as quickly as it had been pulled out.
“Where are you working?” Jimmy asked quietly, his blue eyes still fixed on the pizza spinning around and around.
“At a shop,” Peyton replied vaguely.
Jimmy nodded his head, the beeper on the appliance ringing out against the tension. He happily pulled the food from the radioactivity and trotted over to Peyton’s side. He set the plate down before her as if he’d just unveiled the most extravagant meal known to man. Her smile would make you think he had.
“Thank you,” her eyes glimmered as they met his.
He smiled quickly, stealing up the chair next to her. He watched as she greedily snatched a slice, blowing at it carefully before taking a large bite.
“Which shop?” Jimmy pressed curiously. “Do I know it?”
She laughed, chewing quickly, “I don’t know. It’s up in Fountain Valley.”
Jimmy scowled, “Don’t go to Fountain Valley, Lexi. It’s riff-raff central up there.”
“You’re thinking of Long Beach,” Peyton smirked, filling her mouth with another delicious bite.
“Hey!” he objected, pointing a long finger her way.
She snickered, dropping the pizza back to the plate, “What? Remember what your mom used to say?”
Jimmy cleared his throat, giving his spine a shake as he called forth his best Barb impression, “If you ever go to Long Beach…You’d better watch out.”
Peyton scrunched up her face as she giggled loudly, clapping her hands together, “Perfect!”
“I’ve been to Long Beach,” he grinned. “I’ve lived in Long Beach.”
“But did you watch out?” Peyton teased, lifting the slice back into her hand.
He laughed, “I did not.”
“Ballsy,” Peyton huffed, giving her head a playful shake.
Jimmy smirked, letting his laughter fade out, as he reached over and wrapped his fingers around Peyton’s wrist. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t move. She let her eyes fall skeptically over the tall creature as he pulled her arm toward himself and promptly took a big bite of her food.
“Excuse me,” Peyton gasped theatrically. “There’s a second fucking piece on the plate!”
He laughed, mulling the stolen bite around, “In all fairness, this is my pizza. You thieved it.”
“You gave it to me!” she argued back.
He licked at his lips as he swallowed it down, triumphantly smiling over at her.
“You’re the worst,” she laughed quietly, letting her eyes fall again to his fingers, still laced around her skin.
Jimmy’s gaze trailed hers, a sudden nervousness catching in his throat as their eyes met in the middle. She looked somehow unfamiliar in that moment. Like an ocean, begging to be explored.
But it had been less than a week since he’d told someone else he loved them. It had been less than a week since he’d kissed Natalie’s lips and held her as she’d cried. It was too soon to be thinking about getting into a raft and sailing out into the crushing blue.
He wasn’t sure he’d be ready to tackle the immense depth that beckoned him on. Disappointed and rueful, Jimmy pulled his hand back. Peyton adjusted herself accordingly, directing her focus to the food at hand.
“So what’s this shop?” Jimmy asked, fidgeting with his thumbs to keep from doing something else abrupt.
Peyton hesitated, taking a moment to wrap her head around the whiplash her neck had sustained, “It’s owned by a friend of mine…He’s helping me out with a job while I’m here.”
“I guess you’re staying for a while then,” Jimmy thought aloud, his voice laced with a surprising dissatisfaction.
She caught it like a bullet between her teeth, gritting as she replied, “Probably a month. Maybe less.”
Jimmy couldn’t bring himself to picture a life without her in it. A part of him hoped she’d disappear into the darkness that had rolled in with her. But the other part, the main portion, was devastated to hear she’d leave. He knew she’d go; she’d told him it wasn’t permanent. And yet, somehow, it felt as though he’d have eternity to work through his qualms. For whatever reason, he’d assumed they’d have forever to work out their issues.
“I guess it depends what kind of damage your guests cause tonight,” Jimmy said flatly.
Peyton sighed.
“Are we seriously just going to let them ransack the place?” he asked her. “You’re cool to just sit here and let them fuck up your shit?”
She shrugged her shoulders, “What else would I do? Call the cops?”
He nodded like it was the world’s most obvious plan.
“I don’t want to stir up trouble,” Peyton replied simply. “Just let them do whatever…I’ll figure it out after.”
“And you’re going to go and stay there?” he asked her pointedly. “Alone?”
Peyton frowned a little as she nibbled at another bite, “I guess so.”
“Maybe you should stay with Brian,” he suggested quietly, as if the pain had weighed too heavily on his vocal chords to sound at all convincing.
Peyton groaned, dropping her food to the glass once more, “We made it fifteen minutes without Brian coming up. That’s gotta be a record.”
Jimmy exhaled deeply, “I’m not picking a fight.”
She challenged him silently.
“I’m not,” he insisted with a nervous laugh. “I just don’t think—I don’t want—I don’t know.”
Peyton furrowed her brows, studying him with quiet confusion as he muddled through his own thoughts. His nose scrunched itself upward as he stumbled onto a thought that must have irritated him—the classic coyote face come back to haunt her. She did her best to fight the urge to fawn over him.
“Is that right?” she baited him cheekily, grinning from behind the pizza.
He sighed, letting his face fall as he abandoned his thoughts. The whimsy in her eyes pulled the ancient sincerity from his resistance.
“I don’t want you to be alone,” he told her, a subtle frown toying with his otherwise blank demeanor.
Peyton smiled, setting the slice down onto the plate and giving her hands a quick swipe against one another. And then, without thinking, she slipped her hand atop Jimmy’s. Her chest kicked into life as an electricity exploded through their nerves.
“I’m not alone,” she told him lowly. “I have you.”
He was drowning beneath her emerald gaze.
In his silence, she faltered, “Don’t I?”
Snapping out of his Winchester daze, he turned his hand over, letting her fingers fall against his palm. He locked her into his grip, tracing small circles into her skin with his thumb.
“Of course you do.”
“Should we talk about…everything?” Peyton asked timidly, selfishly curling up beneath Jimmy’s touch.
He sighed, “I don’t know, dude. I really don’t feel like fighting tonight.”
Peyton laughed nervously, “Who says we’ll fight?”
“Well,” Jimmy replied, exaggerating his vowel, “we’ll have to talk about Brian…and that whole…” he flailed his free hand around, “situation.”
She shrugged, “There isn’t really much to talk about there.”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean?”
“We had a blow up,” Peyton informed him, eyeing up the pizza calling her name.
She knew, though, that if she reached for it she’d either have to recall her limb from Jimmy’s clutches or she’d have to awkwardly attempt to use her other hand. One would cause her pain and the other would draw attention to her glee. She was, decidedly, at a stalemate. So, she starved.
“What about?” he pressed.
She studied him with skepticism, “You don’t know?”
He shook his head.
“He really hasn’t said anything about it?” Peyton asked, disbelieving and bewildered.
Jimmy’s eyes danced around the room, “I haven’t really talked to Brian since the whole boat fiasco.”
“That’s what the blow up was about,” she noted, casting him a withering stare. “He said you hit him.”
A distinct grin gave Jimmy away.
“You hit him?!” Peyton gasped, sucker-punched by the truth.
A piece of her had assumed Brian had exaggerated. She couldn’t imagine Jimmy laying a single finger on his best friend—and certainly not on her accord. But the undeniably smug look plastered across his face was proof enough that Jimmy had, in fact, hit Brian. Peyton was blown away.
“Maybe a little,” Jimmy laughed.
“Why?” was all she could think to ask.
He shrugged lazily.
“No, no,” Peyton dismissed quickly. “None of that. Not with me. Tell me why.”
“You know I don’t have to tell you shit just because you ask me to,” Jimmy informed her bravely.
But her callous laugh reverberated against his courage.
“Nice try, Wiley,” she snickered. “Now tell me.”
The shame bellowed up from his gut and laid stagnant in his throat. He’d been trying to rationalize his rage to himself since the brawl had ensued. He’d been trying to make sense of his feelings—and of his reaction to something he’d already known to be true. Something about Brian confirming his sexual knowledge of Peyton was enough to drive Jimmy crazy. The visual alone had him reaching for the bleach, desperate to blind himself.
But why did it matter? That was the part he couldn’t quite work out. He’d already known they’d slept together—Peyton had already told him. He’d known they were getting acquainted and he’d assumed they’d begun the earlier ritualistic steps of falling for one another. So, knowing all of these things, why did it bother him so much to hear it pour from Brian’s lips?
Was it because Jimmy had known her first? Inside and out? Was it because he didn’t want to share? Was it as simple as that?
“Because he likes you,” was all Jimmy could think of to say.
It was the only explanation that neatly wrapped up each of the tentacled ends.
Peyton stumbled through her mind as Jimmy’s grip tightened against her hand. She swallowed hard, praying for something meaningful to stem to life from the barren wasteland of her voice.
“And?”
Good work, Peyton. Good one.
His lips pulled up into a faint smile before falling once more, “And I hate it.”
“Why?” she asked slowly, quietly, as if the truth must shatter the glass windows tucked behind Jimmy’s back.
Jimmy’s eyes pleaded with her for patience. He needed more time.
“Are you jealous?” Peyton dared, keeping her tone friendly and upbeat—despite the grave seriousness lingering behind the catch in her throat.
He smirked, letting the air escape from his lungs, “Who wouldn’t be?”
Peyton swooned, “Jimmy…I…”
“But you like him,” he cut her off with care. “…Don’t you?”
The question was light on the surface; simple and uncomplicated. But, for whatever reason, when coated in Jimmy’s unique voice, the weight of the words was nearly unbearable. Sure, she liked Brian. He offered a certain lightness to her life that Peyton hadn’t known for quite some time. He was easy to talk to, easy to melt under. He was magnetic; his muscles alone were enough to have Peyton dabbing at her bottom lip.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say yes. She’d never lied to Jimmy. But she’d never intentionally hurt him either. He deserved the truth; the whole truth.
“Yeah,” she answered slowly.
Jimmy nodded, his eyes pooling with a familiar pain.
“But…” she added cautiously. “I don’t know if that matters.”
“Of course it matters,” Jimmy protested.
She shook her head, “I don’t think Brian will ever get over you and me…I don’t even know if he could get used to it. I think that was doomed before it began.”
“Brian isn’t one to give up without a fight,” Jimmy told her, against his better judgement. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll bow out. I’ll…get out of your way.”
“Jimmy, that isn’t what I meant,” Peyton sighed.
He shrugged, “I want you to be happy, Lex. Even if that means dating Brian.”
“Maybe I don’t want to,” she argued lightly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have started anything up with anybody.”
His head fell limply to its side.
She half-laughed, “I’m only here for a while…and everything’s a fucking mess. Maybe it’s better to just cut my losses.”
“If that’s what you want,” Jimmy sighed.
“If all I get out of this,” Peyton started but stopped.
Jimmy raised his brows, “Go on.”
She sighed, “If I go home and all I get to take with me is your friendship…That’s okay with me. That’s…that’s really all I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Jimmy’s fingers sank into her skin, pulling her ever so subtly closer. Her eyes bore into the wooden surface of the table, etching the grain with her sudden devotion to detail.
“Lexi,” he said quietly. “You’ve always had it. It’s always been here, waiting for you.”
She nodded absently, feeling suddenly emotional and entirely too vulnerable. She knew if she looked up now, she’d lose herself within him for the rest of her life. She was entirely unwilling to commit to forever.
But Jimmy was hardly one to be denied. He reached out, gracing her jawline with his thumb, latching his fingers around her resistance and turning her round. She kept her focus narrowed down—she laced her greens with the black folds of his Deep Purple tee.
“Peyton,” he whispered—the correct usage of her name kicking her chest with a cracking thud. “Look at me.”
She shook her head, “No.”
“Look at me,” he insisted, strengthening his grip on her hand.
Eternally unable to disappoint him, Peyton mustered up her courage. With a deep breath, she forced herself to lean into Jimmy’s touch, letting her eyes slowly trail along his body until they landed against his crystal gaze.
In that moment, Peyton had never seen anyone quite so beautiful.
“I’ve always been here,” Jimmy told her. “And even when I’ve gone away…I’ve never let myself go too far. Just in case…”
“Just in case what?” Peyton whispered back to him, although she knew the answer.
He smiled subtly, “In case you came back.”
Peyton curled her fingers tighter around Jimmy’s bones, letting their palms sit flush as their hearts mimicked the intimacy. The weakness she’d unfurled and denied for him reared its head with a lioness roar.
She bat her eyelashes slowly, choosing her words carefully from the world’s most sincere dictionary. As her heart beat to the sound of his drum, Peyton couldn’t find the strength to fight.
“Well,” she dared quietly, leaning ever-so-slowly toward him, “I came back.”
Jimmy’s hand slid softly from her chin, letting it bloom against her cheek as she leaned into him. His doubts slowly began to thaw beneath the warmth of Peyton’s affection. At that second in his life, Jimmy wasn’t sure how he’d survived so long without it. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t frozen to death.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, emotion welling up against her emerald eyes. “For everything that’s happened…Everything I did…I’m so, so sorry. I should have called you. I should have written every day…I never should have let you go…I’m sorry.”
“Lexi,” he cooed.
“I’m sorry,” she continued, letting herself fall apart just a little. “I’m so sorry, Wiley.”
Abandoning his better judgement and instincts for survival, Jimmy tossed his cares to the side. With one tightened pull, he brought Peyton into him, crashing his lips to hers in a fury of adoration and apology. She released her grip on his hand, instinctively burying her fingers into his black hair.
He broke their kiss apart, resting his forehead against hers as he struggled to catch his breath. Something about Peyton was always leaving him panting.
“Lexi, I—”
“Don’t,” she cut him off. “Just…Don’t.”
He smiled, nodding his head subtly as he allowed himself to enjoy her. The feel of her skin against his, the sound of her heart beating against her chest—wilder, more prominent. It beat for him.
After a moment of dwelling in the fantastical dream of Jimmy, Peyton was ready to face reality. She pulled away slowly, offering a glimmer of hope as she smiled at him.
In true Lexi form, she slipped right back into the pizza. Jimmy couldn’t help but laugh, admirable her ability to flex and adapt to every second of change. She had nowhere to go—there was nowhere to run. So, she figured she should at least head into battle with a full stomach.
“So, uh,” Jimmy managed. “Who’s your friend? With the shop? We got a little distracted.”
Peyton laughed, “Jonas. He’s crazy talented. If you ever need an artist, I highly recommend him.”
He smirked, “I kind of have my eye on someone already.”
She could feel her cheeks burn despite her best efforts to stay cool. Without an adequate response that didn’t involve jumping his bones, Peyton decided to keep herself busy with a big bite of delicious, delicious pizza.
Jimmy wiggled his fingers at her, a devious grin spreading across his face, “Come on. Make with the ‘za.”
“Eat this one,” Peyton said with her mouth full, sliding the glass plate closer to the coyote by her side.
“I want yours,” he insisted.
First Brian was taking her food and now Jimmy. The poor, famished girl couldn’t catch a break. But she had a real weakness when it came to those crystal blues boring into her soul.
And so, the pair devoured both slices—alternating bites and control over the crust. Nothing they’d ever done had been normal or efficient. But the important thing, the one aspect that could never quite be diminished, was that they’d done it together.
Neither would like to admit it, but they were better together. The pull was electric. The fire was alcoholic. And still, it was met with resistance.
“We should watch a movie,” Jimmy informed her as he slipped the white plate into the sink.
Peyton tilted her head, “How long does burglary take?”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes at her, “If you think I’m letting you go anywhere tonight, you’re fucking cracked, dude.”
“Stop calling me dude,” she laughed.
“You’re staying here,” he insisted.
Peyton bit at her words with care, trying her best to be casual but sensitive, “Won’t…I don’t want…Wouldn’t…”
Jimmy grinned, “Pick a sentence and stick with it.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Peyton finally managed. “With…Natalie.”
“Oh,” Jimmy replied flatly. “Um…Don’t worry about that.”
She wasn’t entirely convinced.
“For real, Lex,” he waved her off. “It’s cool.”
“Are you sure I’m not putting you out?” she asked nervously.
Jimmy rolled his eyes at her, “Quit your bitching. It’s all good. But I’m not watching Sleeping fucking Beauty. I swear I’m not.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “But I’m not watching Jacob’s Ladder.”
“Well no,” Jimmy replied dramatically, elongating each sound of each word. “We’ve already watched that one.”
Peyton gestured down the hall to her right, “Well, let’s go, Sullivan. Show me what you’ve got.”
He smirked, giving her an all-encompassing stare before darting down the hall to the living room. The sound of her steps trailing behind him was music to his ears.
It was a sound he was beginning to think he’d never grow tired of.

Notes

Pellivan. <3

xx