The Day That Saved Us

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The Day That Saved Us Page 9

by Mindy Hayes


  “I know. It’s crazy. Are you staying in the dorms too?”

  “Actually, my dad bought an apartment off campus as an investment property to rent out when I graduate, so I’ll have my own place until then.”

  “Well, that’ll be really nice. Do you have any roommates yet?”

  “I convinced Marcus to come with me, so it’ll just be us.”

  “How awesome. I’m jealous. I wish Harper and I had a place of our own.”

  “Why? The dorms would be so much more fun. You’ll have so many more people to get to know and socialize with.”

  “Yeah, and that much more girl drama to avoid.”

  Tyler chuckles. “Something tells me you’ll be just fine. Just don’t forget about me once we get there.” He nudges my shoulder with his.

  “Me? Ha. Whatever. Girls will be swarming you. If anything, by the first day you’ll be asking, ‘Peyton who?’”

  Tyler stops. My hand tugs to a halt. I turn and face him. His hazel eyes glimmer under the stars. It’s easy to forget how effortless it is to be with him when we’re not together all year. It’s even easy to forget while I’m here and distracted. His gaze holds mine, and in this moment I don’t breathe.

  “You really don’t know how amazing you are, do you?”

  Through all of our summers together, Tyler’s never been so forward with his feelings. Our conversations have always stayed casual and flirtatious, but the look in his eyes now tell me he wants to be anything but casual and flirtatious. He’s earnest.

  “You’re all I think about, Peyton. Since I met you, I’ve counted down the days to every summer because I knew I was going to get to spend it with you. At least I hoped I would get to spend it with you. I’ve gotten pretty dang lucky so far. When I say, ‘don’t forget about me,’ I might say it jokingly, but I mean it. Wholeheartedly. I’m kind of crazy about you, Peyton Parker.”

  I don’t know what to say. I’m flattered and swooning, but when I process what he’s saying, all the meaning behind it, all I see is Brodee. I don’t want Brodee to forget about me.

  “Peyton.” Tyler’s voice brings me back.

  “Yeah?” My voice shakes. I cleared my throat.

  He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Sometimes I wish I could crawl inside that pretty head of yours to see what’s going on.”

  No, you don’t. “I’m sure you do, but then you’d be able to understand me perfectly, and what would be the fun in that?”

  Tyler chuckles, holding my face. “None at all. You’re right. But it sure would make my life easier.”

  To push thoughts of Brodee aside, I do the only thing I can think of that will leave those thoughts dead in the water. I lift up on my tiptoes to kiss Tyler. He wraps his arms around my waist, drawing me close as I loop my arms around his neck. We kiss under the stars, the waves lapping the shore. This is what summer romances are made of. Waves and sand and kissing and no other care in the world. Maybe our romance will change with the seasons this time.

  WHEN I WALK in the front door, feeling lighter on my feet, it’s dark except for a TV glow coming from the living room. Brodee is lounging on the couch with his feet propped up on the ottoman.

  “Hey. What are you still doing up?” I plop down beside him, my head falling back on the couch. I didn’t realize how tired I am, or maybe I’m just feeling dreamy.

  “Hey,” he mutters. “I got caught up in Criminal Minds.” Brodee stares blankly at the TV. “Your mom wanted to go to bed, so I told her I’d wait up for you.”

  “She hasn’t bothered staying up for me so far this summer. Why tonight?”

  Brodee shrugs. “I guess because you were with Tyler, not me.”

  “Huh.” I stare at the screen, not really taking in what’s going on. Tyler’s words replay in my head. I never knew he liked me so much. Our summer flings always felt like just that. A fling. Why hadn’t he said anything before? Maybe because of the possibility of a future this time. Something more than a fling is possible now, and I’m kind of excited.

  “Have a good night?” Brodee’s voice is so emotionless I hardly think he cares enough for a reply, but I answer him anyway. He’s probably just as tired as I am. We were up pretty early to go fishing.

  “It was really fun. There was some pretty good music at The Wreck tonight. We stayed for a few hours just listening and talking.”

  “Classy joint he took you to,” he says dryly.

  I dart him a look. “What’s up with you tonight?”

  “Nothing,” he says apologetically and shuts off the TV. It’s pitch black, so he turns on his cell phone for light and heads for the stairwell.

  “Brodee, c’mon. Did I do something to make you mad?” I click on the light of my cell to find the light switch for the kitchen. “You’re acting weird.”

  When the light flickers on, he turns. I stop short. His brow creases. “You’re just too good for him, Pete. I thought you’d figure it out by now.”

  “Oh, stop playing the big brother card.” I roll my eyes. “Tyler’s a good guy, and you know it.”

  “He didn’t even know not to bring you those lilies. You can’t even look at those things without cringing.” Brodee works his jaw and shrugs. “I just think you could do better, Pete.”

  “There’s no way for him to know about the calla lilies,” I defend.

  “Has he even asked about your dad?”

  “Well, no, but it’s not like we’ve had the opportunity. It’s not a topic that gets easily brought up.”

  “You just spent like five hours with the guy, and not once did he think to bring up the most life-altering event in your life.”

  I don’t answer.

  His eyes narrow. “Does he even know about your dad, Peyton?”

  I stop to think how to answer this. As nonchalantly as I can, I say, “I haven’t told him yet.”

  Brodee’s mouth drops. “Don’t you think it’s a little odd that we’ve been here a month, you’re planning your future at USC with this guy, and you haven’t once mentioned your dad to him?”

  Well, when he put it like that…But I don’t want to talk about my dad right now. “It’s hard to bring up something like that, especially when I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want the pity I get when people first find out. I don’t want him to look at me differently.”

  “But that’s just it—if you really liked the guy you’d feel comfortable enough to say something, to let him in. If he cares about you enough—knows you well enough—he won’t look at you with pity. He won’t look at you differently. He’d find a way to be there for you the way you need it.”

  This is not an argument I want to have right now. “Look. I like Tyler. I’m just not ready for that talk. And maybe I’ll find someone else when I get to USC, but we’re having a good time, and he’s here now.”

  “So am I.”

  His answer is so automatic, so quiet, I almost don’t catch it. “What?”

  “Nothing. Forget I said that.” He takes his first step up the stairs without looking at me.

  I move toward him. “I don’t want to forget it. What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.” He waves me off, rubbing his eyes. Something that sounds like a laugh, but is more self-deprecating, seeps out of his mouth. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m so tired. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Brodee,” I call, but he’s walking away with no intention of stopping.

  I think about following after him, but what if I heard him wrong? What if he didn’t mean it? What if he really is tired and isn’t thinking straight? I’m not about to face the humiliation of confessing my feelings if he didn’t really mean what he said. So, I don’t stop him. We go to bed with the awkward tension heavy in the air.

  BRODEE HAS BEEN gone all morning. Didn’t even bother asking if I wanted to go surfing with him, but I know he went because his favorite board is gone. His Patriot isn’t though, so I assume he’s out back. I debate going after him, but I have
a feeling he’s avoiding me, and I’m going to let him until he’s ready. I know he regrets what he said. He’s probably so embarrassed or doesn’t want me to take what he said the wrong way. Maybe I do need to go find him so that he knows we’re cool. I don’t want things to be weird between us now. I don’t want to waste the rest of the summer.

  Once I walk out onto the beach, I don’t have to go very far before I see Brodee. He’s coming up out of the water in his wetsuit. With his surfboard tucked under his arm, he uses his other to run his fingers through his wet strands, brushing the hair out of his eyes. It’s the sexiest gesture he could have made. How many times have I watched him do just that and never noticed? I have to close my eyes for a second and focus. This is not the time, Peyton. Get your mind out of the gutter.

  When I open my eyes, he’s almost to me on the shore.

  “Hey,” he says casually with a head nod. “‘Sup.” He doesn’t smile or act embarrassed. He seems indifferent, which is worse than I thought.

  “Hey. The waves any good?” I ask to fill the cavernous space.

  He shrugs. “I caught a couple good ones, but it’s getting a little rough. Time to call it quits.” Brodee sets down his board and sits beside it on the sand, propping his arms up on his knees, while facing the water. I take my place next to him and mirror his pose. There’s a minute of looking out at the ocean crashing against the shore before anything is said.

  “Look,” he says at the same time that I say, “So…”

  Our gaze meets and we laugh uncomfortably. I hate it. We’re never supposed to be uncomfortable around each other. Everything is supposed to be easy with us. We have nothing to prove or hide. At least that’s how it was before.

  Brodee clears his throat before he begins, “I just want to apologize for last night. I was so exhausted I wasn’t thinking straight. With the stress from my dad and college coming up fast, I think I’m just struggling with everything changing. You know? Can we just forget it happened? All of it?”

  I try to hide the hurt. I don’t want to forget it. Any of it. But isn’t that why I was coming to him? Because I knew he regretted it or knew it came out the wrong way. Of course he’s struggling with things changing, just like me. I don’t want to lose him. “Yeah.” I nod. “Of course. Already forgotten. What were we talking about?”

  He smirks. “Thanks, Pete. I mean…anything between you and me would just be weird.”

  “Totally.” I try not to sound breathless, even though I feel like he punched me in the stomach.

  “Cool. Glad we’re on the same page. Just smack me if I say anything stupid like that again. Or better yet, push me up the stairs so I can get a good night’s sleep with a clear head.”

  “I got your back.” I punch his shoulder, trying to use the most platonic gesture I can think of.

  “Cool,” he says again. “I’m gonna go wash up. You wanna go on a bike ride when I’m done?”

  “Sure.” I smile to ease the tension.

  “‘kay. I’ll meet you downstairs when I’m ready.”

  Brodee gets up and walks away, and I watch him go. He doesn’t walk like a tough guy, even though at times I know he wants to be one, but he still has a certain confidence about him in the way he moves—not cocky, just confident—never looking at the ground, eyes forward, shoulders square and relaxed.

  With each step he takes, he stomps on another piece of my heart. I don’t know why my heart hurts so much right now. Logistically speaking, it wouldn’t make sense even if Brodee did have feelings for me. Love would only make things messy and complicated.

  WHILE WE’RE RIDING our bikes side by side down the streets of Hatteras, our pick-up line challenge pick-ups where we left off.

  “Do you have a pencil?” he asks. I look at him funny. “‘Cause I want to erase your past and write our future.”

  I want to laugh, but my heart is too busy racing out of my chest. That one was kind of cute, and Brodee couldn’t have picked a worse moment to say it. If only he were serious.

  I snort to cover up my almost swoon moment. “Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile.”

  He smirks, but doesn’t say anything. We don’t pick a winner that round.

  A COUPLE MORNINGS later, I wake up to a text from Tyler. Rubbing my eyes, I blink at the screen.

  Tyler: I need my Peyton Fix.

  You up for some horseback riding?

  Is that even a question?

  Me: Yeah! What time?

  Tyler: I’ll come get you in like 45 min.

  Me: Sounds good.

  This is perfect after my day with Brodee. I could really use a break, implement that distancing myself plan, and a…Tyler fix? Is that what he called it? I laugh to myself. Dork.

  As I’m shoving a bagel smothered with cream cheese into my mouth, Brodee strolls into the kitchen. “How about we go to Kitty Hawk today? Go jet skiing or something.”

  I swallow my bite. “I’m going horseback riding with Tyler. He should be here in like ten minutes.”

  “Oh.” The disappointment in his voice is hard to miss, but I try to ignore it.

  I look to Carter, eating his breakfast next to me. “Take Carter with you. You guys could use some brotherly bonding time.”

  While I was only trying to make up for telling Brodee no, he’s hardly spent any time with Carter so far this summer, and I know Carter’s been a little hurt by that. I’ve seen it on his face every time we’ve left him behind. He does what he can to make it seem like he doesn’t care, but I know him better than that. When Carter was younger, being left out wasn’t uncommon, but he wasn’t afraid to voice his frustration, throwing tantrums and threatening to tell on us. Now that he’s sixteen, he’s too mature and cool to show the disappointment.

  Brodee perks up, but it’s forced, merely for the benefit of Carter. “Yeah, Carter. You game?”

  Carter nods and shrugs, but I can tell he’s excited because he shovels in the last bite and drops his bowl in the sink. “Sure. Let me go change.”

  When Carter’s up the stairs, Brodee sits beside me and starts thumbing through a random catalog on the counter. I’m pretty sure it’s Pottery Barn, but I figure I won’t be obnoxious and point out he’s reading his mom’s mail.

  “Horseback riding, huh?”

  “Yeah, I think we’re gonna go to that place here in Hatteras. So we’ll have the instructors walking with us the whole time, but it should still be fun.”

  He nods and turns the page. I hear nothing but the swipe, swipe, swipe of pages going by. Brodee doesn’t say anything else, and neither do I.

  It never used to be like this. Awkward silences. Uninterpretable gazes. Words left unsaid. There wasn’t anything left unsaid between us, because even if we didn’t say anything, we knew. We always knew what the other was thinking. Now, no matter how much time we spend together, Brodee feels miles away. Maybe it’s for the best. Soon we’ll actually be miles away from each other.

  Tyler comes to get me before Brodee leaves. I get a, “see ya” and a nod from Brodee as I walk out the door.

  I DON’T REALLY know the first thing about horses, so I can tell you one of the horses is black and the other one is gray and white speckled. I can also tell you they’re beautiful.

  Tyler walks right up to the black horse and strokes his mane. “This is Shadow. He’s a Percheron mare and Hackney pony cross.” He nods to the gray and white one. “You’ll be riding Willem. He’s an Arab stallion and Percheron mare cross.”

  I’m impressed. “Wow. I didn’t know you knew so much about horses.”

  “I don’t.” Tyler gives me a boyish grin. “I Googled them.”

  I laugh and lightly smack his shoulder.

  “Just trying to impress you. Did it work?”

  “It did,” I say. “You should’ve kept Google to yourself. I never would have known the difference.”

  “I’m a horrible liar.” He chuckles. “I’d have slipped up somewhere and made a real idiot out of myself.”
<
br />   “Well, since we’re being honest, I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

  “Really? My family and I ride every time we come out here. Don’t worry. They make it pretty easy on you.” He points to the horses. “They’re ridden nearly every day, so they’re used to humans, and we won’t do anything more than walk along the shoreline.”

  The ride is more relaxing than I expected, though it would be difficult not to be. Listening to the waves crash against the shore is enough to calm any nerves I might’ve had. Tyler is wearing a dark red ball cap and worn jeans today, making him seem more like a cowboy than a surfer as he holds the reins confidently. There’s something tempting about a guy who knows exactly what he’s doing on a horse. He exudes masculinity. I want to throw myself at him, but I don’t, of course, because morals.

  “You doing okay?” Tyler asks when he notices me looking at him.

  “Yeah.” I nod, feeling a tad uncomfortable in the saddle. “I think so.”

  “You look good.” He smiles. I blush. “Though you should know…you’ll probably be a little sore afterward. Might not be able to walk tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for the heads up,” I say wryly, but smile.

  “In my defense, I didn’t know you’d never ridden before, but you’re athletic. You might be fine.”

  “If I can’t walk tomorrow, I know where you live.”

  “Good thing it’ll take you a few days to get to me.”

  I laugh.

  IT FINALLY HAPPENS—like it does every year at the beach. Mom, Tatum, Brodee, and I are watching Beaches. Tate went out and bought Junior Mints and white cheddar popcorn because she knows how much I love both.

  Nick had to go back home for another deposition, and Carter had to take the ACT in the morning, so they left for the weekend, leaving just us.

  Halfway through the movie, Tatum threads her fingers through my freshly showered hair. I rest my head on her lap and curl up on my cushion with my feet hanging over the armrest. She always refers to me as her favorite daughter. I was five when she first called me that, and I’d thought she’d gone crazy. She knows I’m not actually her daughter, right? And I’d nearly told her as much, but I’d loved how it’d made me feel, knowing she’d loved me enough to wish I was hers, so all I had done was smile.

 

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