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Trashed and Scattered

Chapter Seventy-Six: I've Got Your Back

“Damn that was good pie,” Peyton grinned, rubbing at her full belly with a content sigh.
Jimmy laughed, “I couldn’t tell from the three fucking slices you ate.”
“I was hungry, okay?” she defended with a laugh. “And it was fucking delicious. Worth every pound I’m going to gain.”
The pair strolled across the highway, hastily making for the city beach. The crowds had dispersed with the setting sun and only the most dedicated remained along the shore. Once their toes hit the sand, they slowed their pace.
“I have to say,” Peyton breathed into the evening air, “I will miss this ocean.”
Jimmy nodded, “It’ll be here waiting for you.”
Peyton let the sentiment pass her by, mimicking his awkward nod as the only means of conversation. They meandered their way along the shore, watching with fascination as the tide rolled itself in and then back out again. The sound was nearly hypnotic, a perfect recipe for memory.
“So,” Peyton eased, “it was interesting to wake up with you in my bed.”
Jimmy snickered, “You were insistent.”
“Was I?” Peyton laughed. “Drunk Peyton is bossy. Or so I’m told.”
Jimmy widened his eyes, a devious grin spreading his lips apart, “No shit.”
“Sorry,” she winced playfully.
“Like I minded,” he scoffed. “We used to share a bed all the time.”
“We were kids then,” she noted. “There were less connotations then.”
He shrugged his shoulders, “We’ve shared a bed since. Or have you forgotten.”
“I have not,” she smiled.
Jimmy floated along the breeze until he was teleported along the previous night’s galactic expansion. He’d struggled to carry Peyton into the house—not that she was particularly heavy, but because she was entirely dead weight and about as malleable as a rock. Once he’d finally managed the Everest equivalent hike up the stairs and had safely tucked the brunette into her bed, she’d regained some level of questionable consciousness.
“Wiley,” she’d croaked, lazily rubbing at the empty space of mattress by her side. “Don’t leave, okay? I need you right here. Right here with me.”
He had hesitated, “I’ll just be downstairs.”
Please,” she’d pleased indolently, drifting in and out of the black. “Please, I need you.”
Unable to resist those words, he climbed over her slumped corpse and nestled himself between her back and the wall. She wasted no time turning to face him and burying her face into his chest. With a smile, he wrapped his arm around her and held her close.
“Wiley,” she grumbled.
When she didn’t continue, he pressed quietly, “Yeah?”
She smirked, nuzzling closer into his body and sinking her tingling fingers into his back, “Don’t ask me to stay. Don’t do it.”
Jimmy’s heart froze, “What?”
“I don’t know what I’d do,” she slurred sleepily. “I just don’t know...I would...It would make…just don’t...”
As her words had turned to mush and her breathing had slowed, Jimmy’s heart had begun to ache in a familiar rhythm. In a flurry of catastrophic cognitive dissonance, he had pulled her a little closer and let her salty words fester in his wounds. He’d told himself he’d ask her about it in the morning. He’d convinced himself that it was a conversation worth having.
He hadn’t quite worked out whether or not it was worth asking her to stay in the first place—he’d made a sliver of peace with the reality of her leaving. He knew it would be unfair to ask her to sacrifice everything and anything on some basis of friendship and obligation. Though, he’d silently hoped she’d make up her own mind and find her place was by his side all along.
A conversation designed in its very essence to be had over coffee.
But in the early morning light, as the sun crept through the window and lit up her features like some angelic goddess, Jimmy had lost his nerve. Peyton was a fountain, often speaking her mind with little awareness for its effects. He told himself with disappointment that if she’d asked him not to beg her to stay, on some level it was because she didn’t want to. Maybe on every level. She wanted to go.
He refused to be the reason she felt torn between anything. He decided then not to guilt her for returning to her own life—regardless of how very far it was from him.
“Have you heard about that house yet?” Peyton asked curiously, her feet sinking into the damp sand.
Jimmy shook his head, casting the ghostly whispers away, “Nope.”
“You’ll get it,” she smirked. “You’re loveable.”
He chuckled, “Yeah, bitches love me.”
“Please don’t ever say that again,” she cringed.
Jimmy grinned, her discomfort bringing him great amusement, “You wanna know where my dream house is?”
She nodded enthusiastically, “Obviously.”
With one lift of his long arm and a point of his skinny finger, Peyton’s attention was directed just up the beach.
“I want a condo on the beach,” he told her. “That’s my goal.”
“That’s a good goal,” Peyton smiled. “Imagine waking up to the waves every morning? Sounds like a little piece of heaven to me.”
“It does,” he concurred wishfully, staring the expansive white building down.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get it,” Peyton told him happily. “You get everything you want. You’re ambitious or whatever the polite word for that is.”
Jimmy scoffed inwardly, “I don’t get everything I want.”
“Name one thing,” she challenged lightly. “One thing you wanted but didn’t get.”
Without thinking, Jimmy said, “You.”
Peyton’s steps slowed nearly to a stop, instinctively misconstruing his meaning like an expert, “What, for the last thirteen years?”
With her drunken words bounding around in his skull, Jimmy resorted to a half-lie, “Yeah.”
She frowned, “Well...you have me now...isn’t that enough?”
“Do you really think it’ll be different?” he asked seriously. “You think we can keep up a friendship on opposite ends of the country?”
Peyton nodded, “Yeah, I do. I’m not going to let us fall apart again. I promise.”
He smiled, “I don’t think I could take another decade of silence.”
“Me neither,” Peyton agreed sincerely. “And getting a second coyote tattoo would just be fucking weird at this point.”
Jimmy laughed, “Just go ahead and get my fucking name tattooed across your forehead and be done with it.”
Peyton snickered, “You’d just love that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d never let you live it down,” he grinned cheekily. “That’s for fucking sure.”
“I’m going to have to get a better cell plan,” Peyton thought aloud, squinting as she did the vague math in her head. “Long distance charges will kill me.”
Jimmy smirked, “Maybe I’ll come out and see you some time. You can show me your super bad ass shop.”
Peyton wasn’t sure she believed him. A part of her was sure that when she said goodbye to Jimmy, it would be for the last time. Maybe she could convince herself to come around again—but at what cost to her sanity? The mere idea of leaving Jimmy behind was already tearing her to shreds. How many times could she endure that heartache? How many times could she be expected to say goodbye?
“I fucking hate New York,” Jimmy followed up quickly. “It’s loud and it smells like fucking shit…But I do want to see your shop.”
Peyton narrowed her eyes at him, “You’ve already seen it.”
“Yeah,” he half-laughed. “But I didn’t know it was yours.”
“Well,” she sighed, “you’re the super busy rock star. I’ll be around if you ever want to brave the Big Apple.”
Jimmy nodded, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
The infamous last words to prelude the contrary.
“I’ve got to get back there before you can come visit,” Peyton said as casually as possible. “Which brings me to my next point…”
Jimmy nodded, “Yeah, I’ve gone ahead and assembled the troops per your request.”
“Damn, you’re quick.”
He grinned with a wink, “Not where it counts.”
Peyton giggled like a school girl, “Quit that.”
“Tuesday,” Jimmy smiled. “The whole crew’s coming to help.”
“You guys are too fucking kind,” she gushed. “I know it’s kind of a bittersweet thing…But I’m really grateful for all your help.”
The fact of the matter was that Peyton was doing her best to tie up the loose ends as quickly as possible. Her to-do list had dwindled down to an effortless amount of renovations, but Jimmy had insisted that he assemble his company to help finish the job. Peyton wanted the last few days of her time in California to be blissfully irresponsible.
She wanted to enjoy the time she had left with Jimmy.
“Jonas said he’d close the shop to come lend a hand,” Peyton informed her friend. “I figure I’ll put him on painting the master bedroom duty.”
“You still need to empty that shit,” Jimmy said cautiously. “Have you been in there at all?”
“Nope,” Peyton answered briskly.
As their steps neared the bordering wall of Jimmy’s dream complex, Peyton led him further toward the ocean. With the crashing waves serenading their souls, the friends collapsed into the sand.
Peyton looked over her shoulder at the expansive building, admiring the levels and architecture; imagining what it might look like under Jimmy’s ownership. She could almost picture his tall frame leaned up against the balcony wall, his messy hair blowing in the oceanic breeze.
“Good view, right?” Jimmy smirked, reading her mind.
She smiled as she peeled her eyes away from the condominiums, “Gorgeous.”
“Do you have a cool view?” he asked her curiously, his gaze fixated on the horizon as it buried itself alive in electric hues of gold and ruby.
Peyton scoffed, “Of a fuckin’ street.”
Jimmy laughed quietly, the vision of Peyton’s being truly existing anywhere else enough to render him nauseated and green.
“Maybe we should just…not talk about New York next week,” Peyton suggested weakly.
Jimmy frowned, “But it’s part of you.”
“So is California,” she shrugged. “As much as I may have forgotten that…Let’s just enjoy being together…Okay?”
He nodded, reaching out to wrap her hand into his. They fell into a comfortable silence, each revelling in both the beauty of the sunset and of their friendship. As the sky exploded with colour and the sea sought to replicate the brilliance, neither Peyton nor Jimmy had ever felt so at ease.
“Hey, Jim?” Peyton spoke softly, entranced by the rippling tide.
He smiled, “Yeah?”
“Will you help me tonight?”
“Help you with what?” he asked curiously, not that it mattered.
He’d move the gates of hell if she asked.
“Going through my mother’s bedroom,” she sighed. “I don’t…I can’t…I’m not sure…”
He squeezed her hand tighter, his eyes twinkling as she looked over at him, “I’ve got your back, Lex.”
She breathed with relief, settling her head against his shoulder, “What am I going to do without you?”
“Go crazy probably,” he teased.
In less than a week, Peyton would forcibly remove herself from this life. She forced herself to soak up each and every atom of Jimmy’s being. She wanted to remember the feel of his skin against hers, the sound of his laughter caught along the breeze, that damn lisp and the effect it had on her morale. Peyton refused to repeat history; she wouldn’t let herself push it all away again.
No matter how damn painful it was to remember.


Notes

Pellivan :(

xx

Comments

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RamonaFoREVer RamonaFoREVer
6/18/19

@fyction
It is one of my favourite things. I melt every time!!

kiss my sas kiss my sas
6/11/19

@kiss my sas
I know! Isn’t it sweet?! Guh. Pellivan <3

fyction fyction
6/11/19

@fyction
BUT PELLIVAN IS TRUE LOVE!!!
I still get giddy when Peyton says 'I love you' to Jimmy... urgh! Such a long time coming!

kiss my sas kiss my sas
6/11/19

@kiss my sas
I mean.... Breyton could be revived... never say never ;)

fyction fyction
6/11/19