Friends, Lovers, or Nothing

I think walking back to the bus alone, in the dark, at night, in a city I wasn’t familiar with, should have worried me. But it didn’t. I wasn’t at all afraid of Bournemouth, or the dark, or being along. I was more afraid of who was waiting for me back on the bus. And yet that didn’t stop me.

It was like I was asking for trouble with every step closer I got.

I knew as I was walking away from Ollie that following Josh back to the bus was not the best plan. I knew this as I started to walk away, I knew this as I heard Max calling my name behind me to try and stop me. I especially knew this as I stepped foot on the bus like a moron.

But for some reason, I was mad. I was upset and I was sad and I was angry and I was a million different feelings, all at once, and they were all flying through my mind at warped speed. Maybe that’s why I got on the bus. Maybe that’s why I followed Josh.

“Josh!” I yelled as I punched the code into the keypad, waiting for the door to unlock. When it did, I raced onto the bus. “Joshua!” I yelled again, determined to find him.

I didn’t have to look far. It wasn’t like he was hiding from me. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought he was waiting for me. I found him sitting at the table with his laptop out, typing something furiously. When he finished, his head snapped up and he just glared at me.

The first thing out of his mouth was, “I want you gone, Peyton.” He was surprisingly calm, and yet so, so angry.

“Excuse me?”

“I want you gone,” he repeated, just as angry.

I shook my head as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Josh. I’m staying here, and if you don’t like it then fine. Just because you say jump doesn’t mean I’m going to yell ‘how high?’” I cried. I could feel the tears in my eyes and I heard my voice crack, but it didn’t stop me.

“God, Peyton! Why do you have to be so difficult? Why do you have to make this so fucking difficult?” he yelled, desperation in his voice.

It was breaking my heart, and that wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

“Stop it!” I cried. “Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Making me the bad guy!” Now I really was crying. The tears were streaming down my face and I looked like a mess, I’m sure. But that wasn’t stopping me. “You’re so fucking dense, you know that?”

“You aren’t the bad guy?” he scoffed. “This is all your fault, Peyton! We wouldn’t fucking be here if it wasn’t for you.”

“No Josh, we wouldn’t be here if you weren’t trying to get in my best friend’s pants!” I snarled at him.

“What does that have to do with anything?” he cried, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “Why does it matter if I want to be with Danielle? What do you care?”

I was quiet for a minute, stewing in my anger. What did it matter? It mattered because it was my best friend. Why did I care? I cared because it was Josh, and, well... it was Josh.

“The same reason it matters that I just kissed Ollie out there and it pissed you off, Josh. The same reason that you’re standing here yelling at me instead of out there with Danielle and the guys,” I informed him calmly. There was still plenty of venom in my voice though, that much I made sure of.

He flinched at what I said, which, strangely enough made me happy. I wanted to get to him. I wanted to get under his skin as much as he got under mine. I watched as he opened his mouth to say something more, but we were rudely interrupted when someone climbed onto the bus.

We both whipped around to see who it was, and when we saw Danielle and Max standing there, a look of guilt crossed both of our faces. I’m not sure why, because we weren’t doing anything wrong, but regardless it was there.

No one said anything for a few minutes. I stared at Danielle to search her face, but there was nothing there. She didn’t look mad or upset or sad or anything, just confused. Max, though, Max was a different story. Max looked mad, and I’m honestly not sure why, or who it was at. Was he mad at me? Was he mad at Josh?

“Peyton, can I talk to you?” Max asked me. He wasn’t really asking though, rather demanding, and if I didn’t agree he would make a scene. So, sighing, I quickly followed him off the bus while we left Danielle and Josh alone.

When we got off the bus, and once the door closed behind us and we were alone, Max really lit into me.

“What the fuck are you thinking, Peyton?” he hissed.

I shook my head in disbelief as I looked at the ground. I wrapped my arms tighter around my body to protect myself from the cold but it wasn’t really helping. “Shut up, Max,” I muttered.

“I knew this was happening,” he informed me as he paced back and forth in front of me while I leaned against the bus. “I knew something was going on with you and Ollie. I knew it!” he yelled, pointing an accusing finger in my direction.

“So what?” I yelled back, throwing my hands in the air. “So what if I kissed him, Max? What’s it matter, huh? Why does everyone care so much all of a sudden?”

That stopped him short. He stopped his pacing and stopped in front of me. “What do you mean everyone?”

I glared at him. “What do you think Josh and I were talking about in there, Max? The fucking weather? Why do you think he was yelling at me?”

Max didn’t say anymore. I watched as he softened slightly. “I’m sorry, Peyt...” he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just get so mad,” he said as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out and a lighter. I watched as he slipped one in between his lips and lit it. After he took a puff, he continued. “I just don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself.”

“Doing what Max?”

“Hurting yourself like this. Messing around with Ollie. Not telling the truth, to yourself or anyone else.”

I rolled my eyes to try and brush the fact that I was getting upset away. “I’m not hurting, Max,” I mumbled, looking at the ground again. “I’m fine.”

He groaned. “You are not!” he protested. “You’re mental if you think that’s true.”

I didn’t say anymore. What else could I say? He had hit every point on the head with ease. I couldn’t lie, and I didn’t want to talk about the truth, so what else was there to say?

“I’m sorry Peyton,” he said again. “This whole situation is just a little much sometimes.”

That really did it. It was like he hit the button for me to explode dead on, and now there was no stopping me.

“A little much? Really Max? I hadn’t noticed. Because, you know, this hasn’t just been my life for the past year or anything!” I cried, stomping my foot in frustration. I was just so fed up with everything. “You have no idea how ‘much’ this really is, Max. You have no fucking idea.”

I wanted to storm off again, but really, what was that getting me? It made me look like a spoiled brat. So instead of leaving, I fell against the bus and slid down the side of it until I was sitting on the ground. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my forehead on them. Everything around me was quiet except for the occasional yell I heard drift up from the beach and of course the waves crashing against the sand. It made me wish I was still down there.

I heard footsteps and then I felt an arm around my shoulder. Max was pulling me into his side while we sat in silence. Silence was better. Silence was always better.

“I’m sorry Peyton,” he repeated for the third time.

I groaned and shook my head. I looked at him. “Don’t say sorry, Max. It’s not your fault. This is all me.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, though. That’s never been my intention.”

I shrugged, but said no more. It didn’t matter anyways.

After several more minutes of silence, Max got up. He stuck his hand out to help me up too, but I stayed put. He sighed. “Are you okay?”

I almost laughed at the statement. “I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

He nodded, accepting this answer, and went back on the bus. I stayed seated for a few more minutes, but then the cold was getting to me. Just as I was getting off the ground, I heard footsteps coming towards me. I looked in alarm, only to see Ollie walking towards me. I cleared my throat, as not to scare him, and he looked up, catching my gaze.

“Oh,” was all he said.

I laughed sadly. “Hi, Ol.”

He nodded his hello and kept walking towards me. “So. How are you doing Peyt? You left in a hurry there.”

“Yeah, about that...” I said, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.

“You sure know how to hurt a bloke’s ego by running off in tears after he kisses you,” he joked with a laugh to keep the mood light.

I laughed too. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “It just... it was too much. I don’t know if I can do this, Ollie.”

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s alright if you can’t, Peyt. No one’s making you. It’s not worth your tears, yeah?”

I nodded as well. “I know. I just... I wish I could, y’know? I wish I could get over him as easily as he’s getting over me. It’d make things so much easier.”

He walked over to me and gave me a hug, reassuring me. “It’s gonna be okay, Peyton. You’ll be alright. Maybe you aren’t now, but you will be. You’re stronger than you think.”

I didn’t say anything, but instead just let myself get wrapped up in the hug and prayed that he was right.