Our Pasts Will Be Our Secrets
Peyton
June 2005
It was the first night my parents had left me completely alone in our mansion. No adult. No babysitter.
I had the stereo system, the alcohol, the music, the phone numbers, the food, and three days for clean-up.
Now all I needed was the people.
February 2006
I didn’t “know” half of the people at the party I was having tonight, but I didn’t care. The more people, the merrier.
September 2006
High school was such a bitch, so I had to throw a party the first weekend my parents were away.
I had just gotten myself a beer and was leaving the kitchen and heading towards the living room when Mary, an old family-friend, suddenly appeared in my path.
Mary was the shortest in our class. She had frizzy dirty-blond hair that fell down to her shoulders. Her eyes were a bright hazel. Even though she was pretty much flat chested, whenever she wore low-cut shirts or tight fitting shirts her breasts always seemed much bigger than they actually were.
“Get out of my fucking way Mary,” I hissed at her.
“No Peyton. You shouldn’t be drinking, and you shouldn’t be having a party,” she scolded me.
I rolled my eyes.
“Like I give a fuck,” I said. Since she was so short it was easy to take my beer back. I opened the can and took a long swig, smirked at my old family-friend, and then shoved past her and joined the rest of the party.
Who needs friends when you can party all night long?
March 2009
My head was throbbing with a sharp pain, my stomach was churning. Some redhead’s face was buried in my bare chest. I didn’t remember meeting her, or obviously fucking her.
I managed to crawl out of my bed without waking the redhead. I found my clothes from last night and pulled them on.
I made my way down stairs, stepping over any one who was laying on the floor.
After reaching the kitchen I looked around for something to kill my headache when the phone started ringing.
The buzzing sound made my head throb, so I answered it quickly.
“What?” I spat.
“Peyton, your father and I are coming home early, we’ll be there tomorrow morning,” Mom’s voice said through the phone.
Two words rang through my head: Oh shit!
Present Day
I had my third bottle of Jack in my hand, and it was half-empty. I took another swig of it, welcoming the bitter taste.
The party was ragging. People were just arriving, dancing, fucking, making-out, drinking, smoking, talking, or a combination of one of those.
A small headache, which would eventually turn into a migraine, was forming in my head.
For the first time in my life I wasn’t in a party mood. I was in a shitty mood and the only thing that was going to help was by drinking more and more alcohol.
I wondered upstairs to my room, kicked the coupe out who wanted to fuck on my bed, and locked the door behind me.
I took a long swig of my bottle of Jack as I walked towards the bedside table and looked at the box that had arrived this morning. I planned on just letting it sit and never opening it, but with the alcohol running through my system I deiced to open it anyways.
After I ripped the box open, nearly spilling my bottle of Jack, a DVD fell onto my bed. I clumsily popped the DVD into the DVD player in my room.
I nearly tripped as I turned and walked towards my bed to watch the DVD, hoping that it was a porn movie.
I took my bottle of Jack to my lips and bent my head back, happily chugging the rest of the bottle within seconds.
Instead of getting the porn, like I wanted, some creepy old dude came up on the screen.
"Hello. I'm Fredrick Mason. You, Peyton Andrews, have been selected to come to a newly discovered island and stay at our hotel for one week by yourself. We really would be honored to serve you and cater to your needs. On this disc you will find a printable brochure and information to contact us if you would like to come. Thank you."
The movie ended and I starred at the screen and blinked several times. Somewhat gracefully I managed to get the number to call the creepy old dude.
I reached over for my phone and called the creepy old dude. With a slur in my voice I told him, “Hey, creepy old dude, better stock up on your Jack and get a damn good stereo system because Peyton, the King of Parting, is-”
I fell on my bed, the phone still in my hand, as I crashed. Sleep over took me in seconds.
It was the first night my parents had left me completely alone in our mansion. No adult. No babysitter.
I had the stereo system, the alcohol, the music, the phone numbers, the food, and three days for clean-up.
Now all I needed was the people.
February 2006
I didn’t “know” half of the people at the party I was having tonight, but I didn’t care. The more people, the merrier.
September 2006
High school was such a bitch, so I had to throw a party the first weekend my parents were away.
I had just gotten myself a beer and was leaving the kitchen and heading towards the living room when Mary, an old family-friend, suddenly appeared in my path.
Mary was the shortest in our class. She had frizzy dirty-blond hair that fell down to her shoulders. Her eyes were a bright hazel. Even though she was pretty much flat chested, whenever she wore low-cut shirts or tight fitting shirts her breasts always seemed much bigger than they actually were.
“Get out of my fucking way Mary,” I hissed at her.
“No Peyton. You shouldn’t be drinking, and you shouldn’t be having a party,” she scolded me.
I rolled my eyes.
“Like I give a fuck,” I said. Since she was so short it was easy to take my beer back. I opened the can and took a long swig, smirked at my old family-friend, and then shoved past her and joined the rest of the party.
Who needs friends when you can party all night long?
March 2009
My head was throbbing with a sharp pain, my stomach was churning. Some redhead’s face was buried in my bare chest. I didn’t remember meeting her, or obviously fucking her.
I managed to crawl out of my bed without waking the redhead. I found my clothes from last night and pulled them on.
I made my way down stairs, stepping over any one who was laying on the floor.
After reaching the kitchen I looked around for something to kill my headache when the phone started ringing.
The buzzing sound made my head throb, so I answered it quickly.
“What?” I spat.
“Peyton, your father and I are coming home early, we’ll be there tomorrow morning,” Mom’s voice said through the phone.
Two words rang through my head: Oh shit!
Present Day
I had my third bottle of Jack in my hand, and it was half-empty. I took another swig of it, welcoming the bitter taste.
The party was ragging. People were just arriving, dancing, fucking, making-out, drinking, smoking, talking, or a combination of one of those.
A small headache, which would eventually turn into a migraine, was forming in my head.
For the first time in my life I wasn’t in a party mood. I was in a shitty mood and the only thing that was going to help was by drinking more and more alcohol.
I wondered upstairs to my room, kicked the coupe out who wanted to fuck on my bed, and locked the door behind me.
I took a long swig of my bottle of Jack as I walked towards the bedside table and looked at the box that had arrived this morning. I planned on just letting it sit and never opening it, but with the alcohol running through my system I deiced to open it anyways.
After I ripped the box open, nearly spilling my bottle of Jack, a DVD fell onto my bed. I clumsily popped the DVD into the DVD player in my room.
I nearly tripped as I turned and walked towards my bed to watch the DVD, hoping that it was a porn movie.
I took my bottle of Jack to my lips and bent my head back, happily chugging the rest of the bottle within seconds.
Instead of getting the porn, like I wanted, some creepy old dude came up on the screen.
"Hello. I'm Fredrick Mason. You, Peyton Andrews, have been selected to come to a newly discovered island and stay at our hotel for one week by yourself. We really would be honored to serve you and cater to your needs. On this disc you will find a printable brochure and information to contact us if you would like to come. Thank you."
The movie ended and I starred at the screen and blinked several times. Somewhat gracefully I managed to get the number to call the creepy old dude.
I reached over for my phone and called the creepy old dude. With a slur in my voice I told him, “Hey, creepy old dude, better stock up on your Jack and get a damn good stereo system because Peyton, the King of Parting, is-”
I fell on my bed, the phone still in my hand, as I crashed. Sleep over took me in seconds.
♠ ♠ ♠
I'm actually really excited for this story :) Until this story, I've never done anything from a guy's POV before, so this should be interesting.Peyton Andrews
And yes, I am obsessed with Alex Evans, is that a crime? God I hope not.
Commenters are amazing by the way :)