Can't Run From The Past

Peyton stepped out of New Hanover airport into the hot North Carolina summer, with her green eyes flashing and was immediately hit with a wave of emotion. The last time she was here was four years ago when she was saying goodbye to her friends and moving across the country to LA to pursue a career in music. Today she was returning a changed person, but not in good way, as she was feeling numb and empty. LA wasn't her dream, and it had taken her the last three years to realize that, so she was returning with her tail slightly between her legs to go back to the beginning to hopefully figure out what went wrong.

Hailing the first available cab that was parked next to the kerb, Peyton quickly crossed the sidewalk, weaving her way in and out of the people stood greeting other travellers with hugs and kisses. Passing her small suitcase to the driver to put into the boot, she slid into the back seat and let out the breath she didn't even know she was holding. 'Two minutes down, a lifetime more to go' she thought to herself, knowing that eventually was going to run into somebody she knows. Only Brooke knows that she is returning, and considering she was still stuck up in New York, no one else was expecting her.

"Where to, Miss?" the driver asks, putting the car into gear and pulling away from the sidewalk.

"Tree Hill," Peyton responds automatically, pushing her blonde curls over her shoulder and biting her lip nervously. "I'm going home," she breathes, resting her head against the cool glass, watching as the airport got smaller in the distance and eventually familiar sights of her home town came into view. Crossing the river, she refused to look in the direction of the Rivercourt, knowing that if she saw him now he would break down all her defences. No, she needed time to gather her thoughts and protect her heart before she saw him again.

Pulling up outside her house, Peyton took a quick look up and down the street before climbing out of the cab. The wooden porch creaks in a comforting way whilst she fumbles with her keys, having not used them in what felt like an eternity, not that she used them much when she lived here full time, preferring to leave the front door unlocked, well at least until half way through her senior year...

Shaking her head to remove that train of thought, she pushed her front door open, using a little more force than usual as her father hadn't been home in a good few months and there was a pile of post blocking the door. Dragging her suitcase over the threshold, Peyton quickly twisted around to close the door behind her before bending down to scoop the post into a pile before throwing it in the direction of the coffee table, thinking that she will spend time later on sorting through it all.

Leaving her suitcase at the bottom of the stairs knowing that all the contents needed washing anyway, Peyton began the climb up to her old bedroom. Running her hand up the smooth, wooden handrail, she felt the dust clog under her fingertips and she quickly removed her hand to wipe in onto the back of her jeans. With the looks of it the whole house needed to be cleaned from top to bottom, which would keep her busy until Brooke showed up. Tracing her fingers across her black bedroom door, Peyton took a deep breath before stepping back into her room, and feeling as though she had somehow stepped back in time four years. If only it was that easy.

It looked like a time capsule, with her artwork still plastered to the red walls and her vinyl records still alphabetized in the large wooden shelves her father had made her. Her old worn computer sat in the corner, and her webcam could be seen resting on the floor of her walk-in wardrobe, where she had thrown it after ripping it out of its socket. The only thing that had changed is that her father had at some point over the last couple of years had removed her blankets and sheets from her bed to be washed, and her pillows and duvet were now piled neatly at the base of her mattress.

Sitting down with a sigh on her computer swivel chair, she knew where in the house she would have to start cleaning first. There was no way she would be able to sleep in this room whilst her high school memories where plastered onto her walls, reminding her how she used to feel and all the possibilities she used to have. Pulling off her high heels, she found her well worn pair of converse on the floor under her desk, before pulling her curls into a messy ponytail and setting to work.

Two days later Peyton collapsed in a heap on her sofa, with just the pile of post left to sort out. Working non-stop she had managed to clean the house, and she was grateful when she realized most of it was just dust, although she almost gagged when she found some very mouldy bread in one of the kitchen cupboards.

Pulling her freshly showered hair into a twist on the back of her head, knowing from years of experience that this ended up giving her manageable waves instead of out of control curls, she moved to sit cross legged in front of the coffee table, quickly sorting most of the post into a junk mail pile ready for the trash. Searching through the remaining pile, she found an envelope with familiar writing scrawled on the front and she quickly ripped it open and unfolded the single sheet of paper.

Hey Chicken,

Sorry I'm not there to welcome you home, but my thoughts are always with you. I always knew that someday you would come home, not because I thought you would fail (which you haven't) but because I once told you to follow your heart, and, like the last time, it always leads you back home. There is emergency money as always in the hiding spot, so have a take-out pizza on me.

Call me whenever you need me, and I will be there to listen, ready to come home if needed. Love always, Dad.

Peyton smiled at his words, wishing that they had kept up with their weekly phone calls, but with the hours of her old job, and the label constantly calling her, she had let things slide. She has missed having a proper family for some time now, which was one of the reasons she had decided to come home.

Just the thought of pizza was making her stomach rumble, as she hadn't really eaten much since returning home. Earlier in the day she had attempted to go to the store to get some essentials in, but her reliable Mercury Comet hadn't wanted to start, which wasn't all that surprising, considering she wasn't exactly sure when it had last been started up. Quickly changing into a lightweight green dress and a pair of strappy sandals, Peyton exited the house for the first time since coming home.