Fletcher( Boys of HGU #1) Page 4

  I shrug, “Needed to get out.”

  Colt cocks his head but doesn’t question me.

  Peyton heads back over with my fresh beer and smiles brightly at the guys. They each in turn hug her and I get a twinge in my chest, memories of every time we’ve hugged, touched, laughed swarming my mind. I take a long swig of my beer, averting my eyes from the scene.

  “What can I get you boys?” She asks them, beaming with a light in her eyes she didn’t have just a minute ago.

  “Same as him,” Decker tells her and Colt agrees. She’s back a moment later with the bottles, handing them to the guys.

  Colt and Decker are discussing Thanksgiving break, Decker spending the break with Colt and his family with his little sister, Savannah. It made sense seeing as they took him in when he was just a kid along with Savannah. I had purposely avoided thinking about the break. It would be the first time in months I’ll be home.

  I miss my parents, more than I’d ever admit but seeing mom with that darkness in her eyes kills me inside. And my dad, he’s never been the same.

  It was hardly surprising, they lost their youngest son.

  I often wonder if they wished it had been me that day and not him. I wonder how much they blame me for his death, after all, I was the one driving the car.

  Bile rises in my throat and I swallow down the sick feeling rising in my gut.

  “Fletch!” Decker yells my name, “are you even listening?”

  “Huh?”

  “We should hang out during the break,” Decker clarifies, “Catch a movie or something. Sav keeps going on about how she never sees us anymore.”

  Colt scoffs, “She calls us every other day!”

  Decker chuckles and rolls his eyes, “You know what she’s like.”

  I nod, “Sure, I’m down.”

  _

  At eleven I call it a night, leaving the guys to their game of pool with a couple of guys from the team and head out to my truck. I don’t immediately drive away, instead, I sit behind the wheel and stare at the front doors of Chucks, my mind on Peyton.

  Maybe it’s time to try and mend the bridge I destroyed all those years ago. We can be friends again, I’d gone years with my feelings for her, I can continue that, even if just being friends with her isn’t something I want.

  As if my thoughts have conjured her, she steps out of Chucks, zipping up her coat and beginning the trek back to her dorm.

  I press my hand on the horn to get her attention.

  She literally jumps, her mouth opening in a scream and then she whips her head around to me, scowling with her brows pulled down furiously.

  “What the hell!?” She hisses after she’s stormed over, a little ball of fury. “What is wrong with you!?”

  I hold my hands up in surrender, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

  “What do you think was going to happen! Your truck horn sounds like a freaking freight train!”

  I chuckle. God this feels good, “Want a ride?”

  She narrows her eyes, “Did you wait out here for me?”

  I shake my head, “Nah I was heading home myself, just so happen to be doing it at the same time.”

  A bitter wind teases her hair, that sweet, delectable scent of strawberries wafting under my nose. A tendril of hair has fallen from her ponytail and sits across her face and my fingers twitch to move it, tuck it behind her ear. She shivers and eyes the inside of the truck longingly.

  “Come on, hop in,” I jerk my head and lean across the cab, opening the door for her.

  With a sigh, she rounds the hood and climbs up, using the handle above the door to hoist herself up and in. I whack the heat up, blasting hot air into the cab and her body sags in relief.

  “It’s so cold,” she shivers again, holding her hands to the vents and wiggling her fingers.

  I grunt my response and pull out of the lot, flicking my eyes to her again.

  That little upturned nose, plump lips and wide, doe like eyes, framed by elegantly arched brows. That piece of hair is still on her face. She watches out the window, her eyes following the lights of campus as we drive through and then we’re pulling up to her dorm and I cut the engine.

  “Thanks,” she pauses, “again.”

  I nod. Her hand hesitates at the handle and then she whips back around to me, “Fletch, what’s going on here?”

  “I’m giving you a ride home,” I tell her.

  “No, I mean this,” she gestures between us, “it’s been three years and this is the most we’ve interacted. Why now?”

  My jaw clamps shut. She snorts a laugh and shakes her head, pushing the door open and climbing out. Before she shuts it, she leans back into the car, “don’t lead me on, Fletcher. If you wanna work on our friendship again, great but I can’t lose you again. I’ve missed you Fletch and it fucking hurts thinking about what we’ve been like these past three years but if you come back into my life again and then decide you don’t want to be anymore, it’ll rip me apart.”

  Tears form in her eyes.

  “Just think about that, okay?” She adds quietly.

  With that she slams the door and begins to walk to her dorm. I don’t know what it is that has me throwing my door open, my legs moving quickly to close the distance between us. She turns to me as I approach.

  Her brows pull down into a frown as she looks up at me, her breath coming out in misty white clouds in front of her face. I reach forward and tuck that piece of hair behind her ear, the feel of her silky soft skin against my fingertip settling something inside of me.

  We stare at each other for a long moment and then I grab her, hauling her into my body as I wrap my arms around her, holding her to me.

  Her arms clasp around my middle, tight, her hands balling the material of my jacket into her fists as if she can cling on and never let go.

  Something cracks inside of me. The feel of her against me, her head on my chest, her hands holding me so damn tight.

  A small sob sounds from her and I hold her tighter, dropping my head to rest it against hers.

  “I’ve missed you too,” I say quietly, my words being swallowed by the night.

  Her sobs rattle her body, her tears wetting my t shirt, but I don’t care. How had I gone this long without the feel of her?

  We stand like that, embraced, for what feels like forever, neither one of us wanting the let go but then she shivers and I have to let her go, pressing my face into her hair for just a moment before stepping out of her arms.

  I feel the loss instantly, a coldness, like hands, slithering over my skin.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I promise.

  She nods and wipes at her cheeks, a small smile tilting her lips. “Okay.”

  Peyton turns then and heads to her dorm, before she disappears I call out, “Peyton!”

  She looks over her shoulder, waiting.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her.

  She nods and pushes her way inside.

  Seven

  Years before…

  I hated this town. Why did we have to move here?

  I huff as mom drives through the narrow suburban road, towards the giant house on the end where we are now going to living. I had to leave everything behind in New York, my friends, my school and for what?

  Hillgrove, Colorado was nothing like New York. Sure it was a city but small and inferior and so far away!

  My mom was remarrying. Sure, Eric was nice and all and I did like him but not enough to uproot my entire life.

  “Stop pouting, Peyton,” mom sighs, turning the volume of the music down and meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “This is a good thing, and you’ll make new friends honey. It’s not the end of the world.”

  I snort, “Not to you it’s not,” I fold my arms, “I already hate it here.”

  She sighs loudly and shakes her head, “I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Well you’ll just have to get used to it.”

  “W
hatever.”

  _

  I look around my room Monday morning, sighing at the mess of it. Boxes everywhere, clothes on the floor, the chair, the desk. Eric had told me I could do whatever I wanted with the room, paint it, put posters up, pictures. It even had a small balcony that overlooked the back yard. There was a pool and beyond that, it backed onto some woodland that Eric owned.

  Bruno, Eric’s dog bounds around the yard, his tail wagging back and forth as he plays ball with mom and Eric.

  Mom does look happy.

  I take another look at myself in the mirror, smoothing my hands down my shirt. First day at a new school. It was daunting.

  Swallowing down my nerves, I pick up my bag and head down the wide stairs to the foyer just as mom walks through with a to go cup of coffee and her keys.

  “Ready honey?” She asks.

  I nod.

  “You’re going to love Hillgrove Academy, kid,” Eric comes up behind mom, “Their art department has won awards.”

  Okay – I didn’t know that. Maybe I should have looked it up. I wanted to be a graphic designer when I grew up.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah kid, and the university here has a huge department dedicated to all kinds of art. Graphic, fine, sculpting, you name it, they’ve got it.”

  I chew my lip.

  “Have a good day, kid,” Eric smiles as I follow mom out the door and climb in the back of the car.

  Art department or not, it was a new school and I didn’t know anyone. Every time we visited, we spent all the time with Eric, I hadn’t gotten to know anyone.

  The school is close, only a ten minute drive and my stomach balls up with nerves, my heart pounding in my chest as I stare out the window. There are kids everywhere, throwing balls, laughing, playing. We’re half way through the academic year, everyone’s going to know I’m new here. They’re going to stare.

  “You’ll be fine,” mom reaches back and grasps my hand, “go on, I love you.”

  “Love you too, mom.”

  Nervously, I climb from the car and watch as she pulls away, leaving me on my own. With a swallow, I turn back to the school and head in, heading to the front desk immediately.

  After getting my locker number and schedule, I head down the long corridors, looking at the art lining the walls, the school banner hanging from the ceiling displaying the school football team.

  Hillgrove Tigers in blue and white colors.

  My locker, number 527 is the one on the end and using the combination, I open the door, putting all my books except my English book inside.

  “Hey!” the voice was male and chipper, “you’re new here!”

  I glance to the side, spotting the boy. He was older than me, not by much I was guessing and he was wearing a Linkin Park shirt, dark jeans and converse, his dark hair floppy and falling over his forehead. He grins, showing dimples in his cheeks.

  He was really cute.

  “I’m Fletcher,” he sticks his hand out to me, “Fletcher Dallas.”

  “I’m Peyton McKenna,” I say back, shaking his hand.

  “Well locker buddy, have a good day!” He makes quick work of his locker and then disappears back down the hall just as the bell rings.

  My first morning went without much excitement, each teacher introducing me as the new girl in class. I sat at the back, trying to sink into myself and pretend I didn’t see people looking at me, whispering.

  I hated this.

  At lunch, I head to the cafeteria and pull out the packed lunch mom had made this morning, taking a bite of the cheese salad sandwich. Everyone around me laughs, all the tables full, well apart from mine of course. I pick at my lunch whilst I scribble in my drawing pad. Hillgrove Academy middle school shared the same grounds as the High school and I could see it from my table. I draw what I can see, a big red brick building with large windows and sports banners, the school flag flying on two poles in front of the building. Cheerleaders hang around near the field, a group of boys throwing a football back and forth.

  “Wow, you’re good,” a familiar voice says as the sound of a lunch tray hitting the table has my head snapping up. Fletcher settles himself on the other side of the table, his dimples flashing as he smiles at me.

  “You’re sitting with me?” I frown, looking around. Is this a joke? Are his friends all laughing at me?

  “Sure, why not,” he shrugs as he picks up his fork and scoops a massive mound of mac and cheese onto it.

  “But why?”

  “Do you like being on your own?” He cocks his head, his hair flopping to the side.

  I shake my head, “no.”

  “Me either.”

  “Don’t you have friends?”

  He grins and looks behind him. I look up in time to see two more boys the same age sauntering over, playfully shoving one and other.

  “This is Decker,” Fletcher tells me, gesturing to the dark haired boy. His hair is chin length and messy and he’s quite skinny but tall. His clothes hang off his body, the red t shirt he’s wearing faded to more of a pink. His eyes, a green color I hadn’t seen before narrow in on me and I notice dark circles under them like he hasn’t slept for a long time. “Well his name is actually Vincent but we all call him Decker.”

  “My friends call me Decker,” he clarifies. My cheeks go hot.

  “And this is Colt,” he points to the other boy, he has dark hair, spiked with gel and a dusting of freckles over his nose. He’s tall too but not skinny like Decker is.

  “Hi!” Colt says.

  “Guys, this is Peyton,” he tells them, “She’s new here.”

  “Cool,” they both say as they dig into their lunches.

  They all talk to me, asking me where I’m from, why I’ve moved here. Just before the bell sounds another boy comes to the table. He looks like Fletcher, a little shorter and his hair is cropped short, close to his skull.

  “Tyler!” Fletcher grabs him, “this is Peyton, Peyton this is my brother Tyler.”

  I wave as he looks at me and grins, “We have class together!”

  I hadn’t realised it yet but these boys were going to become my people. My best friends. Every day after that one of them or all of them sought me out, they called on me after school to play down at the rec, and at weekends we hung out.

  I didn’t hate Hillgrove so much after that day.

  Eight

  I don’t see Fletcher at all during the week. Decker and Colt have been around but they say they’re coach is kicking their ass at practice so every night has been with them feeling sorry for themselves because they’re sore from training. They had a game next Friday, the last Friday before thanksgiving and they had to win.

  I would be there. Like I always was, supporting my boys.

  After classes on Friday I head back to my dorm, quickly pack up a case for the weekend and head out to where my cab is waiting. It would be an expensive trip and I wonder idly as the driver pulls away from the campus if I should bring my car back to campus. I usually walked everywhere but the nights are getting colder and it would be easier to just drive to work.

  Forty five minutes later, the cab pulls up outside the house and my mom rushes out. Her bright eyes smile and as soon as I’ve cleared the car I’m being squeezed to her chest. Eric has come out, chuckling as he pays the driver and grabs my cases from the trunk.

  “Thanks,” I smile at him as he brings me in for a hug and kiss on the top of the head.

  “No problem, kid.”

  “Oh honey, I’ve missed you so much!” Mom cries, hugging me again. “I’m so glad I get you for longer next week!”

  I chuckle, “I missed you too.”

  For the next hour I’m fed, my mom telling me I look too skinny. Chastising me to high heavens about how much I should be eating. Thing was I ate. A lot. I just walked everywhere.

  “I saw Mrs. Dallas yesterday,” mom watches me for a reaction. I swallow hard. I haven’t seen Mrs. Dallas for a while. Tyler and Fletcher’s mom, Deana, was like a second
mom to me, she treated me like I was her own daughter, their dad too and it makes me sad that we’ve lost touch. I make a mental note to visit her this weekend.

  “She looked well,” my mom continues, watching me closely.

  “Good,” I nod.

  “Did you know they’ve set up a charity in Tyler’s name?”

  I swallow down the emotion threatening in my throat, “No I didn’t.”

  She nods, “yep, they’ve joined with the youth centre to set up a foundation for underprivileged kids to get into sports. Tyler loved football.”

  Mom loved all the boys, Tyler more so since he was my boyfriend for two years before he died. I remember how the two of them cooked together in the kitchen whenever he was over. Tyler could not cook but my mom never told him that, showing him all the tricks she could when she got him in the kitchen with her.

  Their bond made me happy and when we lost him, she took it just as hard as the rest of us. She never let go of my hand, for days, weeks after, she was with me, to the point she slept in the same bed as me, holding me as I cried myself to sleep.

  The memories make my eyes sting and my nose burn.

  “He did,” I agree.

  “The school also put up a memorial for him.” Mom tells me, “it’s so lovely. They plant fresh flowers every year in his name and they bloom the most beautiful color.”

  My resolve cracks and the first tear slips from my eye, rolling down my cheek and dripping from my chin.

  They tell you time will heal you and I agreed but it still hurts, even years later. It’s like an old wound that’s healed up, a scar that still causes you trouble and no matter how much you try to remedy the ache, it never truly goes away.

  “Oh honey,” mom soothes, pulling me to her.

  “I’m fine,” I sniffle.

  “It’s okay to still be sad, baby. You loved him.”

  I did. Truly I did. But I wasn’t in love with him like everyone believes. Not that anyone knows that. Once upon a time I was so madly in love with him I was planning our future, our wedding, how many babies we were going to have but it all changed our senior year of High school. It happened long before the accident, but I was too scared to do it, worried about what it would do to the group and our friendship. I went months trying to figure out how to end things with Tyler but in the end, it didn’t even matter because he was taken from us.