Stereos

.08

The days seemed to blur together in an intricate stream of colours. Autumn fell into winter, or at least what was beginning to feel like winter. While the snow had not officially fallen, it was only a matter of time before the windy days turned to blizzards and sheets of virgin powder snow.

Peyton exhaled quietly and paced back and forth in front of her window. She needed to tell him. Whether it was because he needed to know or she needed someone to tell, she wasn’t sure. What she was sure of, however, was that she needed to do something to alleviate all the pressure weighing her down.

As she passed the mirror on the inside of her closet door, she caught sight of the girl staring back at her and frowned. The girl looked tired. Her skin was dull, her eyes lifeless with dark bags under them. She hadn’t slept properly in weeks, and she was beginning to wonder if she would ever get a goodnight’s sleep.

A knock came from the other side of the door, and Peyton nearly jumped out of her skin. “Peyton?”

The familiarity of the voice calmed her racing heart as she crossed the short distance between her closet and her door. Luke stood on the other side of the door, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Her fingers ghosted over the hemline of his hoodie, tentatively at first, before she made up her mind and pulled him into her room.

Her head barely passed the stretch of his broad shoulder when he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She gripped his back. “Why didn’t you tell me we were talking on the phone?” She asked quietly.

Other than the way his arms tightened around her, he gave no indication that he had heard her. She pulled back and looked up at his face. An indecipherable look glazed over his normally clear blue eyes; he was looking right through her.
…
The second it had come out of her mouth, he knew what she was talking about. How could he not? Every time he was with her, all he could think about was how he had heard her blood-curdling scream over the phone. He remembered the shiver of dread that shot up his spine when she didn’t answer. He remembered the sirens, loud and blaring. He remembered the crunch of metal when the firefighters had to use the Jaws of Life to get her out. He remembered the day he almost lost her.

He bit his lip as he tightened his grip around her; he had to be strong for the both of them.

“Luke…” her voice was so quiet; so sad. He’d do anything to make it better, but he didn’t know how. Her breath was warm when she exhaled against his throat. His skin puckered when she let out another shaky breath.

“When I close my eyes,” she whispered, “I see AJ.”

She had stopped crying, but he could tell she was on the verge of starting up again. He let one of his hands trail up her back and settle in her hair. It was so soft that he was compelled to start stroking it softly.

“She always asks me why I didn’t save her,” she continued softly.

He dropped his other hand to the small of her back and pulled until her hips met his thighs.

“It’s my fault she died.”

He tensed immediately; what could he say to that?

As gently as he could, he lifted her head from his shoulder. Even in the dim lighting of her room, he could see the slick trails her tears had made down her cheeks. The vice his heart was in tightened to the point where he almost couldn’t breathe.

Her lower lip trembled, and tears welled up along her lower lid. He caught the tears with the pads of his thumbs as he clutched her jaw softly. She let herself fall into his touch; her hands resting against his chest. He could feel the heat of her hands through the material of his sweatshirt.

“It isn’t your fault, Peyton,” he told her, brushing her hair away from her face. The sad disbelief on her face was painfully obvious. “It’s never your fault.” And then he kissed her.
…
When he laughed, his eyes crinkled and dimples appeared on either side of his mouth. The dorkiest gasp for breath would pass by his lips, and Peyton wasn’t sure a guy with a laugh like that could be called The Human Eraser.

Peyton folded her hands neatly under the table and looked up at Luke. She couldn’t really identify what it was exactly that made his laugh so dorky. Maybe it was just him that made it dorky. After all, his drink had nearly come out of his nose. And all because Mikhail Grabovski had accidentally grazed a waitress’ breast with his hand. She scrunched her nose; it really wasn’t that funny. Mikhail had apologized to the waitress with a face redder – and an accent thicker – than the sauce on his pasta, but all that had succeeded in doing is causing Luke to nearly burst at the seams. Luckily, though, Luke had been able to hold it together until the waitress had left.

As he leaned against the table, Peyton noticed how broad his shoulders were. She imagined it to be soft muscle under the material of his t-shirt, not hard and carved like a bodybuilder’s, but she knew that he’d one day grow into his size. He’d lose his soft features and become carved of marble. She put her head against his shoulder. Until that day, though, he’d still be the dorky kid from Saskatchewan with the weird laugh.
…
One minute he was laughing at Grabbo’s fumbling apology, and then next Peyton’s got her head against his arm. He tried not to be self-conscious about it, but from the discrete looks from everyone at the table, they’d all noticed too.

Dion Phaneuf had a look on his face that was a mixture of calm interest and complete indifference. He was the first to clear his throat and go back to his meal. Grabbo looked like he wanted to return the humiliating favour and laugh at Luke, but after a quick punch in the arm from Dion, he went back to picking at his pasta.

The only person who reacted positively at the table was Tyler Bozak’s girlfriend Tessa, who had her eyes glued to Peyton and a warm smile on her face. Peyton didn’t even notice anything that was going on at the table as she lazily played with the condensation that dripped down the outside of her glass.

She was tired, he knew, but he also knew that she was having fun. She’d laughed – genuinely – a few times throughout the night, and despite the fact that it was basically like she was getting to know everyone again, she was having fun.

He liked it when he didn’t see any pain in her eyes.

When his and Peyton’s food came – a pizza for them to share – Luke was conflicted: he was hungry, but he also didn’t want Peyton to move her head. Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it – she made the decision seconds later when she lifted her head so she could grab some food.

He was surprised when Peyton was the one to break the silence. “Yesterday a girl came up to me and asked if I was pregnant with Luke’s baby.”

Luke inhaled a bite of pizza and then coughed loudly. Everyone else at the table collectively inhaled, and then erupted in loud, raucous laughter. Peyton turned to Luke, and as serious as a heart attack, asked, “we were sleeping together?”

That ended the laughter at the table immediately. It was if someone had just announced a death at the table. Suddenly everyone’s meals were a lot more interesting.

“Ty, want some?” Tessa asked uncomfortably, offering Tyler a bite of her sandwich.

“So much pasta,” Mikhail muttered.

Dion didn’t even bat an eyelash.
…
Peyton looked around the table; it definitely wasn’t a welcomed reaction to her question. She had expected a lewd comment, maybe, heck, even a jab in Luke’s direction. But complete and utter silence, followed by uncomfortable attempts to distract themselves? She didn’t get it.

“Were we?” She asked again.

Luke wiped his hands on a napkin sitting beside his plate, and then curled an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He bowed his head low, so she leaned into his shoulder to hear him. “We weren’t like that Peyton,” he murmured quietly.

Peyton froze. He’d called her Peyton, not Pey-day. There was no hint of a smile on his face, no dimples showing. And he was avoiding eye contact. Her stomach dropped and she immediately pulled away from him. “I’m going to be sick,” she inhaled.

Luke’s eyes darted up to her. “What?”

“I’m going to be sick; move.”

He was blindsided by her request, but slid out of the booth anyways. She didn’t even look at him as she weaved through the tables to where she’d seen the washrooms when they’d all entered.

It wasn’t until she was locked in a stall, her hair pulled back by her right hand, that she realized Tessa had come after her. “Peyton?” A knock sounded on the other side of the stall door.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she dry-heaved into the toilet. Tessa knocked again. “Are you okay Peyton?”

Her stomach churned, but she still hadn’t vomited. The feeling was slowly passing, despite how hot her skin felt, so she dropped her hair and unlocked the door.

Tessa stood on the other side of the door, a pout already on her face. Her light blue eyes were full of concern as she stepped out of the way so Peyton could move to the sinks. Thankfully they were the only ones in the washroom, because she didn’t think she could handle everyone’s prying stares.

She could feel Tessa’s eyes on her as she ran her hands under the cold water from the tap. She bit her lip and willed the tears to stop forming along her the corners of her eyes. But when she felt Tessa’s warm hand against her back, she caved.

“I feel like such an idiot.” Tessa pulled into a hug. It wasn’t the same as when Luke hugged her. “Last month I basically told him I liked him and he just gave me a weird look! And then last night, I had a dream we kissed. I’m one incident away from being a stalker.”

“You aren’t an idiot, Peyton,” Tessa informed her as she began to softly pat her back, “First of all, Luke’s just a huge dork. I mean, have you heard him laugh? And second of all, everyone dreams about kissing him. It’s sacrilegious if you don’t.”

Peyton smiled despite herself. When she pulled away from Tessa, she inhaled a shaky breath. “It’s stupid to think he’d like me like that anyway.”

Tessa frowned. “Peyton, -”

“Are you okay Pey-day?”

Peyton clamped her mouth shut and looked at his concerned blue eyes. They were so bright in the lighting of the washroom. The women’s washroom.

Tessa saved her from having to reply. “Actually, Luke, I think I’m just going to take her home.”

Peyton pleaded with her eyes. Ask me to stay…

His eyes were so sad. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, and Peyton couldn’t blame him for that. She was a mess. “I want to talk to Luke,” Peyton murmured softly.

Tessa looked at her. “Are you sure Peyton?”

Peyton nodded slowly and tucked her hair behind her left ear. When no objection came, Tessa dropped her hand from Peyton’s shoulder. “I’ll take you home after if you need to.”

“Thanks.”

The second the door swung shut behind Tessa, Peyton wanted to break down and cry. She wanted to cry for the fact that it was her fault that AJ was dead, for the fact that Alex had only gotten a couple of scratches while she had woken up from a coma, for how much of an inconvenience she was to everyone around her, and most importantly because she had gotten it in her head that her and Luke had had a relationship that went beyond just friends. Which obviously wasn’t the case.

But how could she not? She was just so…

She choked out a sob that raked through her body and caused Luke to step towards her. “I don’t think we should hang out anymore.”

Luke stopped, his fingers mere inches from touching her. And she swore, as she looked into his eyes, that she saw something break.