It had been about a month since Kennedy and I had parted ways. I ignored his calls, I deleted his texts before I read them. If he stopped by our house, I locked myself in my room. Was I being childish?
Sure, I was. Did I really care that I was being childish? No sir, I did not.
As the whole top half of my body was literally inside of the refrigerator looking for something to eat, someone came up behind me, and as they spoke up, a very loud "Hey," I hit my head on the top of the fridge, letting out a long stream of curses.
"I shouldn't have said anything, I was enjoying the view." John spoke up.
"Stop being an ass," I said, rubbing the top of my head.
"Well, you have a very nice one," he said, sitting down on the stool and resting his arms on the counter in front of him.
"Recording room is downstairs, or had you forgotten?" I asked, drinking the orange juice straight out of the carton.
"No, I know where it is. I'm just checking on you."
"And? How do I seem today? Fine? Like I am everyday you check on me."
"Chill, I have only been back in town for a few days. It's not like I come over every single day to check on you."
"Oh right. When you don't come over you just call me at 8 o'clock in the morning. Stop checking on me, I promise you, I am fine."
"Jesus, why do I forget everyday that you've turned into a bitch?"
"I don't know, John. Why do you forget? Stop calling me at 8 in the damn morning," I said, slamming the orange juice back in the refrigerator. I loved acting like I was mad with John. He always bought it. I kissed his cheek as I passed him. "Thanks for caring," I smiled and retired to my room. Kennedy would be arriving soon and seeing him right now was the last thing I wanted to happen. I threw on some clothes, not bothering to shower, because let's face it, who was I trying to impress? The fact that I still didn't have a car was just a little afterthought to add to my shitty life.
"Hey Jared, can I borrow your car?" I asked, hopping out of my room, trying to put one of my Toms on. I lost my balance and started to fall forward, but my fall was broken by two arms shooting out to catch me.
"Easy," he said, not bothering to stand me back up. I just kind of dangled in his arms, staring at his stupid shoes, that housed his stupid feet, attached to his stupid legs, that were attached to his stupid hips, that were attached to his stupid torso, and his stupid chest, and his stupid collar bones and stupid shoulders which were attached to his stupid neck that held his stupid head with his stupid face and his stupid brown eyes and his stupid mouth that I had kissed a thousand times that housed that stupidly cute gap in his front teeth. His stupid fake name kept repeating over and over and over again in my head. Stupid Kennedy Brock.
He finally up righted me and I looked at him for the first time in a month. My heart just about leapt through my throat. Why did he have to be one of the most beautiful men in the world? Why did he still have to have possession of my heart?
"Hi," he said, scratching the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. Well, that made two of us. I looked up at him, and didn't feel obligated to say "hi," back.
"Jared!" I yelled, walking away from Kennedy, and trying to locate the red head that had the keys to the car that was going to get me away from Kennedy Brock.
"What?" he yelled from the basement.
"Keys. I'm taking Lucy!" I yelled downstairs.
"On the counter!" he yelled back.
"Peyton," Kennedy whispered, coming up behind me.
"Don't." I said, grabbing Jared's keys and turning around. Kennedy put his arms on both sides of me, trapping me between the counter and his body.
"Oh god, Kennedy, what? What do you want from me?" I asked, trying to keep my emotions in check.
"I have called you every single day for the past month," he whispered, staring straight into my eyes.
"And?" I asked, "What Kennedy? Am I just supposed to answer the phone and carry on a conversation like nothing happened? Am I supposed to just-"
"Damn it, Peyton," he said, forcefully mashing his lips to mine. I shoved against his chest and pushed him away from.
"You have no right to march into MY house and just-"but he kissed me again, this time, it was softer and less forceful, but it was still unwanted. I pushed him away a second time.
"Don't ever do that again." I said, wiping my mouth. "You're with Gabby. Act like it." I spat out, grabbing my bag and slinging over my shoulder, I ran out of the house and climbed into Jared's car. I slammed it into reverse and just drove. I had no agenda or plans today, just to stay away from Kennedy.
I ended up at the bookstore. I couldn't help it. Books were just something I cared too much about. Since I had taken this semester of school, a bad judgment call on my part, I needed to keep my brain fed. As I was browsing the fiction section, my body collided with another, again, only this time, my coffee spilled down the front of my shirt.
"Oh, I am so sorry," he said, turning around.
I looked up and saw the Seth Cohen look alike, again.
"We have to stop meeting like this," Ben said, eyeing the coffee dripping from my shirt onto the floor.
"We have to stop meeting at all," I said, sitting my cup of coffee on the shelf and trying to ring out my shirt.
"Ouch," he said, putting his hand over his heart. "I tried to get in touch after you stormed out of our gig, but I couldn't fine 'stuck up bitch who bolts without saying goodbye' in the phonebook. Could I maybe have a contact number for you, so when you run away next time, so that I can at least make sure you're okay."
"Sure, it's 1-800-fuckoff."
"Oh, an 800 number, nice," he winked. I couldn't help but smile.
"Let me buy you a new shirt," he said, "We have the whole mall."
"You're not buying me a new shirt," I said, still trying to ring out the coffee.
"Hot Topic's right next door. I can buy you a nice band shirt."
"Do they sell WAD shirts?" I asked with a smile.
"Oh tons," he replied, sarcastically. "Actually, we sell so many, they might be sold out. Might have to settle on someone a little less know, like 'The Maine," he joked.
"I have plenty of their shirts, thanks much," I said. "Fine, I don't want to walk around with coffee all over my shirt all day," I sighed, defeated. "But I don't want to go to Hot Topic, I'd rather sit here and read. If you picked one out for me, I would be eternally grateful."
His eyebrows shot up and I could practically hear the gears in his head turning.
"Okay, just no, like, Justin Beaver or Lady Gaga shirts, be nice. Please." I pleaded. "You ruined my favorite 'Death Cab for Cutie' shirt," I said, motioning to the coffee stained shirt I was wearing now.
"So, here I am buying you clothes. Does that mean you will let me take you out to dinner tonight?" he asked.
"I have plans tonight," I said, still browsing for a good book.
"Oh," he sounded sad. "I heard about Kennedy," he said, lightening his tone, and placing his hand on my shoulder. I froze and turned around.
"How did you.." I trailed off, thinking.
"Have you picked up the latest issue of AP?" he asked. "They did a whole section on musicians and their families. He just so happened to be in there. He talks about you a lot."
"I'm sure Gabby loved that," I sighed.
"Well, I'll be right back," he said, heading towards Hot Topic. I nodded and opened my book, but I couldn't concentrate. A part of me, a large part of me, wanted to go to the magazine section and pick up the latest issue of Alternative Press. The other part of me, well it wanted to burn every copy they had. I sat there; debating for about five minutes, but Ben came back before I could choose which option I wanted to do.
"Here," he said, throwing the bag at me. I was scared to open it.
"Hope you like classic rock," was all he said. Thank god. I opened the bag and pulled out a Def Leppard t-shirt. I shot up and threw my arms around him.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I said.
"Jesus, most girls would have told me to take it back and get them a Ke$ha shirt, but you are not most girls." I just smiled, studying the shirt.
"I'm going to go put it on," I said as I started walking towards the bathroom.
"Does this mean you are going to have dinner with me?" he called out after me. I shrugged and kept walking, a smile plastered on my face.
Ben was one of those guys that could cheer you up without trying. Dinner with him could be a good thing. I wasn't looking to start anything. It had only been a month since Kennedy and I parted ways, but I could use some friends outside of The Maine and The Summer Set. I could use a friend that wasn't associated with them. I could use Ben.
Ben and I hung out the whole day, not really doing much of anything but walking around downtown Phoenix. He had lived here his whole life, like me. I only spent a few summers away in Alabama with my mom. I took him to a record store he had never been to and he took me to a secondhand shop I had never been to. Ben was an interesting person. He was kind and witty. He had a comeback to everything, and he always listened to what I had to say. I had no choice but to go to dinner with him tonight.
So when he asked me for the fifth time, I said yes.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
When I arrived home to change my clothes, someone was in my room, playing with my computer. I was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to be.
"Olivia," I said, plopping down on my bed, "Are you supposed to be playing with that?" I asked.
"Daddy said I could play in your room."
"Oh, did he?" I asked. She stopped messing with my laptop and ran to give me a hug. The only bad thing about avoided Kennedy was that I also avoided the sweetest girl in the whole world.
"Are you okay, Peyton?" she asked. "Daddy told me you have been sad."
"I am okay," I assured her. "I have to get ready to go out tonight, though."
"Who are you going out with?" she asked.
"Just a friend," I said, standing up and walking to my closet.
"A boy friend?" she asked. I laughed and nodded.
"PEYTON'S GOT A BOYFRIEND," she shouted, running out of my room. Oops. I ran to my door and locked it before anyone had a chance to come in. I stood in front of my closet and debated on what to wear. I didn't want to wear anything that even remotely said, "Hey, let's be more than just friends." That wasn't what I wanted, at all. I settled on black skinny jeans and a floral top. That kept things in the "friends" zone, didn't it?
I grabbed my bag and Jared's keys and opened my door and came face to face with a very angry looking John.
"Yo," I said, trying to slide past him.
"Who are you going out with?" John asked.
"You don't know him." I shrugged, still trying to get past him.
"Yeah, well I don't know Peyton. How long have you known him?" he asked, still not moving.
"Okay, dad. You worry too much. He's not an axe murderer. His name is Ben. I met him at the bookstore a while back."
"Ben's a lame name."
"And John isn't?" I asked, still trying to skirt around him.
"I worry about you, you know that," he sighed. I smiled and kissed his cheek.
"I know. I will be fine."
"Don't go," he said in a whisper. I looked into his eyes and saw something there that I recognized. Fear, hurt, longing. I had hurt John a time or two, but he hurt me more.
"I'm going," I said, adjusting my bag around my shoulder.
"I love you," he said, and in that moment of his vulnerability, I felt vulnerable as well. I couldn't tell you why, but those three words, were something that I wanted to hear. Something that I needed to hear. It meant that someone still wanted me, someone still cared about me.
I usually wasn't this girl, the one that needed to be reassured, but the old Peyton had died, and the new Peyton, she wanted to feel wanted. It was a weakness I would never admit out loud, but when John said that he loved me, my reaction was so automatic, it scared me.
I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, bringing my lips up to meet his and pulled him into my room, kicking the door shut. It took both of us by surprise, but neither of us questioned it. We knew it was wrong, nothing good could come of this. I didn't love John, and I don't know if I ever could. If this ever got back to Kennedy, he would hate both of us forever, and that should have made me stop planting tiny kisses down John's shoulder. I didn't care if Kennedy hated me, because I hated him enough already. I began to question myself. Was I doing this to get back at Kennedy, or to hurt him? I didn't know right now, the sight of John's half naked body was clouding my already foggy judgment. I didn't want to break up the band. I would be hated by people all over the world. One would think that would have stopped me from unbuttoning John's pants.
It wasn't. There was no turning back. As he hovered on top of me, he was hesitant, clearly thinking of the consequences that would arise from this. He couldn't back out now, I needed this. So I grabbed a hold of his dog tag and pulled his face towards mine again, sealing the deal.
/\/\/\/\/\
"Where do you want to go?" Ben asked me, pulling out of my driveway. I watched John watching us leave from the porch. He looked hurt, and well, I didn't blame him. Sleeping with John was one of the worst possible things I could have done, and I knew that before I even did it. He was in love with me, and I just used him.
We were still in bed when Ben knocked on the front door. I had to scrounge around on the floor for my clothes. I didn't even have time to fix my hair, so I was pretty sure I had sex hair.
"I don't know," I said, finally able to think now that John was out of my view. "Anywhere,"
"You aren't like, a vegetarian or anything like that, are you?" he asked.
"No," I smiled. "Definitely not."
"Good," he said, boldly reaching across the car and grabbing my hand. I didn't pull away. I was starting to like Ben, god help me.
"Why do you still wear the ring, if you don't mind me asking," he said. I hadn't even thought about it. Why did I still wear the ring?
"Honestly, I don't know." I sighed, pulling my hand away to take the ring off and stuff it in my bag. One less reminder of Kennedy Brock.
"You look nice, by the way," he said, flicking his blinker on to switch lanes.
"Thank you," I said with a smile, "You don't look too bad yourself, buddy."
He took me to Chipotle, and thank god he did. I hadn't had chipotle in a long time. As we ate our burrito bowls, our conversations only got better and better. We discussed everything from childhood to now, leaving no embarrassing detail out. He was easy to talk to, and I loved that about him. Chipotle had to kick us out when it was time to close, and I didn't want to go home.
"Where do you want to go now?" he asked, wrapping his arm around me, sheltering me from the November air.
"Would it be too forward of me to suggest your place?" I asked, looking over at him.
"Not at all. Just a warning though, I live with Andy, and if you remember correctly, he thinks you are mad hot."
"Bring it on," I said. He opened the car door for me, and that was something I needed to get used to. Not a lot of guys did that, and it threw me off.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Peyton Smith, as I live and breathe," Andy greeted me, pulling my hand towards his mouth and giving it a gentle kiss.
"Hi, Andy," I smiled.
"She remembers my name!" he fistpumped. "I need to go tumble about this," he said, running back into, what I assumed was his room.
Ben loosely draped his arm around my waist and led me to his room. It was clean, to my surprise. Not a single thing was out of place. I had never seen a guys room that wasn't a pig sty.
"Wow," I said, looking at all of the posters on his wall.
"I am stuck in the eighties," he shrugged.
"These are great," I said. "I grew up listening to these bands. My dad will forever be stuck in the eighties. Music wise, at least."
"You talk about your dad a lot. He sounds pretty amazing."
"He is," I smiled and sat down on his bed. "Maybe you'll get to meet him one day."
"God, I hope so," he said, leaning against the wall. "What do you want to do?" he asked.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "I just didn't want to go home, and nothing is open this late. I figured we could talk some more."
And that's we did, until the wee hours of the morning. I asked him to drive me home around five, and as he opened that car door for me, I allowed myself to do something that I had wanted to do all night. I allowed myself to kiss him, and lucky for me, it seemed as if he wanted the exact same thing.
I had started something with two guys today. One was one of my best friends, the other, a guy I was just getting to know.
Having sex with John, although I shouldn't was something that I wanted to repeat. He made me feel special, and it was wrong of me to use him, but I couldn't help it that he was sexy as hell.
Getting to know Ben was making me the happiest I had been in a month. He was a great guy who really liked me.
The old Peyton is turning in her grave right now. Too bad she died, because she could have saved me from all of the heartache I had coming my way.