Dating My Best Friend (Redefining Me Book 1)

by Michelle MacQueen

  Avery stood stoically by, letting his friends continue to laugh. Cam didn’t care what they did, and he knew neither did Peyton. But Avery?

  Before Cam processed what he was doing, he stood in front of Avery.

  Avery’s angry eyes burned into him. His jaw twitched. “Look who has come to Peyton’s defense. Cooper’s killer.”

  Cam narrowed his eyes. No matter what the police report said or what witnesses had told the press, Avery would never see the truth of that night. That his beloved best friend almost killed all of them.

  Whoever said don’t think ill of the dead had never been in a car with a drunk driver.

  Cam no longer cared about Avery’s fragmented memory of that night or the fact that he’d lost his best friend. Not when Peyton stood pressing herself against the lockers as if hoping she could melt right into them.

  He turned his back on Avery and shrugged out of his sweatshirt. Peyton’s eyes widened as he approached her. He held out the sweatshirt. When she didn’t take it, he cocked his head. “Wrap it around your waist.”

  Relief visibly relaxed her as she realized what he meant. Her pants.

  He didn’t dwell on the fact that it was the first kind interaction between them in the six weeks since he’d been home. Not when she looked at him as if he was her savior as if he could still be perfect in her eyes.

  She tied the sweatshirt and stepped away from the wall.

  The warning bell for class rang over their heads, but the charged atmosphere held everyone in place.

  “You think by helping her you can bring back her brother?” Avery stepped closer.

  Cam turned to face him, wishing he could see something of the boy he’d known. “Nothing will ever bring Coop back. Not your torment of Peyton or your hatred for me. You lost your friend, we get it. But do you even know what the Callahans have been through?”

  Avery leaned down. “You certainly don’t. We all stayed behind to pick up the pieces, and you ran.”

  Cam’s fist collided with Avery’s face before he even registered what he was doing. Pain shot through his knuckles, but it was nothing compared to Avery tackling him to the ground and slamming his head into the tile floor.

  Cam kneed him in the groin and shoved him to the side, but he didn’t get up. Instead, he lunged for Avery, taking out every bit of anger he’d had since that night on his old friend. Blood trickled from Avery’s split lip, and Cam was sure he looked just as rough.

  Yet, neither boy seemed to be able to stop fighting the other.

  Cam vaguely registered Peyton screaming at him in the background, but he couldn’t make out her words over the rushing in his ears.

  All at once, Avery froze with Cam still pinned beneath him.

  It wasn’t until Peyton’s gasp rang out from the crowd that Cam realized why. Avery’s hand snaked over his leg, feeling the hard metal underneath. Cam lay unmoving as Avery gripped the bottom of his pant leg and pushed it up, revealing Cam’s secret to everyone in the hall.

  “You deserve what you got.” Avery shoved him again.

  “Cam.” Peyton’s voice trembled on his name.

  “Break it up!” The principal sprinted down the hall with two teachers on her heels.

  Cam jerked his fake leg up, kicking Avery sideways. Then Peyton was there helping him to his feet.

  “You’re bleeding,” she whispered. She felt for a cut at the back of his head, and her fingers came away red.

  A rush of dizziness overtook him, but he gripped Peyton’s shoulder and stayed upright.

  Avery still kneeled on the ground. His wide eyes hadn’t left Cam since finding the leg. All anger had receded as the three of them remained abandoned by their classmates. Classmates who’d never understood what they’d gone through all those months ago. They’d whispered about it and read the reports in the paper, but trauma like that didn’t just fade as the news cycle changed. It altered the course of their lives, made them into people they’d never wanted to be.

  The principal reached them, scanning over their various cuts and bruises. The two male teachers stood behind her as if they were bodyguards, waiting to be called to action. Cam knew Mrs. Stevens, though. She could handle herself, and she would handle them.

  To her credit, no anger flashed across her face. She sighed. “Stand up, Mr. St. Germaine.”

  Avery did as he was told. He wiped blood from his lip with his thumb.

  Mrs. Stevens turned to the two teachers. “You can head to your classes. I can handle these three.”

  They only nodded and left.

  When Mrs. Stevens faced them again, she crossed her arms. “First, are you two boys okay? Are you hurt?”

  “I’ll live,” Cam answered.

  Avery only grunted in agreement.

  “Ms. Callahan?”

  Peyton wound her arm around Cam’s waist, and he was grateful for the support standing. “Not like these two idiots, Mrs. Stevens. So, no, I’m not hurt.”

  The principal nodded. “Good. Then you’re all well enough to march straight to my office. We need to have a chat.”

  They followed her through the now-empty halls. The secretary looked up with a smile as they passed her.

  Mrs. Stevens stopped outside her office door. “You three wait here. I was in the middle of something when they called me for the fight.” She disappeared inside.

  Peyton helped Cam into one of the wooden chairs outside the door and then sat next to him. Avery took a seat at the opposite end of the row.

  Cam touched the back of his head where his hair was sticky with blood.

  “The cut isn’t too big.” Peyton gave him a tentative smile. “It should heal on its own.”

  Cam only responded with a nod. He’d wanted to fix things with Peyton so bad, but now as she sat beside him, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say, so he took her hand in his, smiling when she squeezed his in return.

  A few minutes of silence passed.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was small. “I mean, about the…about the…”

  “About missing half my leg?” A harsh laugh burst out of him. “How would that have gone, Pey? Hi, I’m sorry I ditched you for eighteen months, but now, I’ve returned broken. Want to put me back together? Great pickup line.”

  Peyton’s brow creased. “Broken?” The word was only a whisper on her lips. “Is that how you see yourself?”

  “I’m the disabled guy now.” He shrugged. “It’s how the world sees me.”

  “Cam.” She reached for his hand. He tried to pull it away, but her grip tightened. “Look at me.” When he didn’t, she added a soft “Please.”

  Finally, he lifted his gaze to hers. “When you saw it…when you saw who I am now, you ran.”

  She closed her eyes, a single tear escaping. “I made you get into that car. I asked you to get my brother home. Until that moment at the track, I hadn’t realized just what I’d done to you. I hadn’t known why you hated me so much.”

  “Pey. I could never hate you. The accident wasn’t your fault. When Coop took the keys and jumped into the driver’s seat, I didn’t have to get in the car with him. That was my choice, I knew he’d been drinking, but I didn’t know how much.” He wiped the tear from her cheek, and her eyes opened.

  “You aren’t broken.”

  He shifted his eyes to his covered leg. “Part of me is missing. I think that’s the definition of broken.”

  Peyton reached down, keeping her eyes locked on his as if asking permission. When he nodded, her fingers wrapped around the metal. Still, she didn’t take her eyes from his. “Your body is not who you are, Cameron Tucker.”

  When Cam didn’t respond, she pulled her hand away. “Cara can no longer walk. Have you ever considered her broken?”

  Cam reeled back. “Of course not.” When he was with Cara, he barely even saw the wheelchair. All he saw were bright smiles and a fiery attitude. She’d never let it define her.

  Peyton’s expression softened. “Then why do you think th
at about yourself?” She dropped her free hand to their entwined fingers, covering his completely. “We’re always harder on ourselves. It’s obviously different. I won’t deny that. But what’s so wrong with being different? You never wanted to be like those asshole jocks, anyway.”

  Peyton’s words went straight through him, entering every part of his mind. Your body is not who you are.

  All the notes he’d read from her box over the past weeks had only made him want this moment to come sooner. The moment when he no longer hid. The moment Peyton came back to him.

  He lifted a hand to her face and brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear before leaning in and kissing her soft lips. He waited for her to respond, for her to do something, but she’d frozen.

  Finally, she pushed him back. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  She huffed out a breath. “Because, Cam, this isn’t two years ago. I haven’t spent the last year pining over my best friend. I’ve spent it mad as hell that he left.” She placed her hand against his chest. “I want us back, Cam, but not like that. I can’t do that to myself again. The only thing I can offer you right now is friendship.”

  It was a start. He’d do anything to get her back into his life, even if it meant crushing any kind of non-platonic feeling.

  He nodded. “Friends. I can do that.”

  A smile lit her face as if she glowed from the inside out. She pulled him into a hug.

  He rested his chin on her shoulder and inhaled the familiar scent of strawberry shampoo. There was very little he’d forgotten about her.

  When he pulled away, he caught Avery watching them out of the corner of his eye. The hatred he’d bestowed upon them earlier was gone, replaced with…longing?

  There’d been a time when their group of friends had been forged together in steel, unbreakable. Cooper, Avery, Nari, Addison, Peyton, Cam, and even Julian. Things had seemed so easy for them, so simple.

  Cam wanted that back, but he knew nothing could be the same as it was. They’d all changed. Once fitting together like pieces of the same puzzle, now they’d been damaged, their edges warped by the water of Defiance Falls. And once a puzzle got wet, there was no putting it back together.

  15

  Peyton

  ~ Peyton,

  I don’t want to be your friend.

  Please stop being mine.

  Cam ~

  “I know why I got Saturday school,” Cameron said. “But remind me again why you deserve to be here?” He walked up to the school entrance with Peyton early Saturday morning.

  “Well, right before you swooped in on your white horse to defend my honor and shut Avery up with your fists, I kinda screamed at the entire school and lost my shit.”

  “I don’t know why I thought you needed defending.” Cameron’s eyes lit up with his smile—a genuine Cam smile she hadn’t seen in forever. The sight of it sent her heart skipping. “You can clearly take care of yourself.” His hand slipped into hers, the gesture familiar and foreign at the same time.

  Friends, Peyton. She reminded herself. She didn’t want to screw this up by moving too fast. She’d get her heart broken for sure if she let her emotions run away with her now.

  “Well, it’s always nice to have backup.” She bumped her shoulder against his. “This morning’s going to suck, but why don’t you come over for dinner tonight. Mom and Dad have missed having you around, you know.”

  “I’d like that.” Cameron grinned, but his smile faded as they watched Avery stomp toward the principal’s office where Mrs. Stevens herself waited for them. In jeans and a sweatshirt, she looked more like one of her students than the principal of their school.

  Avery stood with his arms crossed over his chest, refusing to look at either of his former friends.

  “I’d normally leave Saturday school to one of your teachers,” Mrs. Stevens began, “but you three idiots are fortunate you’ve got a principal who not only knows her students but cares about them too. You three used to be friends. I know you’ve all been through a lot since your sophomore year.” Her voice softened. “You’ve experienced a terrible loss, but I hate to see how that’s torn you apart.”

  “Can we just skip the lecture and get to work so I can get out of here?” Avery interrupted her.

  “Watch it, son.” Mrs. Stevens crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s clear you’re mad at the world, Avery St. Germaine, but I am your principal, and you will speak to me with respect.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered.

  “I heard everything that was said in this hall before you boys started acting like heathens. Peyton said a lot of things she shouldn’t have. Screamed them, from what I hear. But she had a point. We let simple words have so much power over us when those words are wielded like weapons against us. Those bathrooms are full of the kind of vitriol you kids spew at each other on a daily basis. I’m sick of hearing it, and I’m sick of seeing it scribbled on the bathroom walls.” She pointed toward the boys’ and girls’ bathrooms where the doors were propped open and ready for them. “Peyton and Cameron, grab a scrub brush and get to work scrubbing the walls. Avery, go behind them and wipe down the walls. I don’t want to see a single slanderous remark or offensive doodle on my walls after today. What you can’t clean, paint over. I want pristine bathrooms before you leave today. And I want you working together.” Mrs. Stevens pulled a desk out of the nearest classroom and took a seat. “If you need me, I’ll be right here working on budgets.”

  Cameron grabbed a scrub brush and a bucket and headed for the boys’ bathroom.

  Rolling his eyes, Avery gathered up paint rollers and brushes and set off for the girl’s bathroom.

  “Boys’ bathroom first, Mr. St. Germaine.” Mrs. Stevens pointed after Cameron without looking up.

  Peyton was the last to gather her supplies.

  “Don’t listen to them, Peyton,” Mrs. Stevens said. “You are a beautiful, bright young woman with an amazing life ahead of you. The name calling and belittling hurts now, but it will never define you unless you let it.”

  “I know,” Peyton sighed. “But it’s not fun. I’m sorry I flipped out in the hall like that. I know you don’t like it when kids swear.”

  “Your principal had to punish you and hold you accountable for your actions, just like the boys, but your friend, Mrs. Stevens, is so proud of you for standing up for yourself.” She smiled. “If there’s ever a next time, try not to shout or swear so much.” She winked. “A calmly worded comeback can be more effective than a freak-out.

  “I promise.” Peyton turned toward the boys’ bathroom. “It stinks in there.” She wrinkled her nose. “Can’t I stick to the girls’ room instead?”

  “You’re a smart girl, Peyton Callahan. You’ve come a long way since Cooper died. You’re healing, sweetheart. I need you to help those two.” She nodded toward the bathroom. “I Lysoled the crap out of that room before you guys got here.” She tossed a pair of rubber gloves at her.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Stevens.” Peyton followed the boys into the bathroom, clutching her cleaning supplies.

  “No one even reads this stuff,” Avery muttered as he slathered the cinder block walls with cleaning solution while Cameron moved behind him, scrubbing the worst of the graffiti with a scrub brush.

  “You’re a popular guy, Avery,” Peyton said. “You have friends and girlfriends. Football and good grades—you’re who most guys want to be in high school. You might not deign to read this stuff, but there are plenty of people who do.” She went to work on a lewd drawing of a cheerleader on her knees in front of the football team. Almost anyone would recognize the cheerleader was meant to be Ashley Richardson. No matter what her sex life was or wasn’t, she didn’t deserve to be the butt of a joke on the boys’ restroom wall. Not when she couldn’t even defend herself.

  As Peyton scrubbed, the marker faded. She didn’t like Ashley, but a feeling of sister solidarity wouldn’t let her leave this bathroom until every inch of that drawing was go
ne.

  They worked quietly for a long time, the scrape of bristles against concrete the only sound. Peyton’s mind filled with all the hateful callous things the boys of Twin Rivers High had to say about the girls.

  “Don’t go in there, Peyton,” Avery said as she moved to the handicap stall.

  “What? Why?” She went anyway. It took her a moment to comprehend what she was seeing. Four lists. Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, and Senior. The lists ranked the girls of each year, but Peyton focused on the senior list.

  Top Tens of Twin Rivers High: Senior class

  1.) The hot/mean girl - Meghan Lewis

  2.) The cute girl - Mallory Pierce

  3.) Hot nerd - Nari Won Song

  4.) The dumb girl - Jenna Jacobs

  5.) The ugly girl - Leslie Barns

  6.) The fat girl - Peyton Callahan

  7.) The weirdo - Katie Whitmore

  8.) Best boobs - Peyton Callahan

  9.) Best ass - Addison Parker

  10.) Best lay - Ashley Richardson

  “I forgot about this.” Cameron frowned. “I never gave it much thought before.”

  “How long has this garbage been here?” Peyton’s eyes burned with tears of fury. Not because she saw her own name up there twice, but for every girl on these lists who didn’t even know about it.

  “It’s tradition,” Avery said, standing behind her.

  “What’s wrong with you?” She swatted him with her rubber gloves.

  “Hey, I didn’t do this.” He took a step back. “Don’t take it out on me. That shit’s been up there for years. It gets painted over, and someone always puts it back. New classes come in, and it starts all over again.”

  “You guys are disgusting. For God’s sake, women do not exist for your entertainment. We aren’t here for you to ogle and rank like prize livestock at the county fair.”

  “We didn’t do this, Peyton,” Avery insisted.

  “Then man up and put a stop to this bullshit before another class of freshman girls ends up disrespected on this wall.”