Haunt Me

Peyton lay in her bed listening to the Chicago soundtrack, tears rolling down her face. Most days she was ale to go on with her life, act as though it hadn't been flipped upside-down. Today was not one of those days. She wished it wasn't summer, so she could teach to distract herself. She frequently thought about seeking a therapist, but knew it was a bad idea if she wanted to keep him safe. There would be no way to tell a shrink everything that was upsetting her without admitting that she was in contact with her mothers killer. That would be hard to explain. "Yeah, I know he killed her, but I still trust him."

I sound like I belong in a nut house. She chuckled halfheartedly to herself. Peyton wiped her eyes and stared at the mascara stains on her fingers. Even if Mom were able to come back, she'd say I'd done the right thing in forgiving him. She'd always said that there was no use in holding a grudge. "People make mistakes." She always said, "The most important thing is that they learn and move on."

Darion knocked lightly on her bedroom door and poked his head inside. "Can I come in, Pey?"

She nodded and he stepped in, closing the door behind himself. He sat down on top of the covers next to her and rested his head on her shoulder. "Do you remember the first time mom showed you Chicago?

She shook her head. "Gosh, Dare. I think I was six years-old. Maybe younger." Their mother had always loved musicals. She'd sing show tunes in the shower, as lullabies before bed, when she was cooking, at work. Any time, really. "I can't remember a time where I didn't know all of the music. When the movie came out, though, I remember how excited she was. I was fourteen. She took me to see it three times in theater." Peyton ruffled Darion's hair. "You were too cool at ten to go see a movie with your mom and sister."

He teared up a little. "No, that wasn't it. I just had a crush on your friend who babysat me all the time." He took her hand and squeezed. The last song clicked off and they sat there in silence, the heavy longing for their mother hung in the air around them. "I was really mad at you, Peyton. When you told us that you weren't going to turn this guy in."

"I know. You didn't really try to conceal it."

He huffed, "Can you blame me? This guy murdered our mother. Yet, somehow you find it within yourself to forgive him, even when he practically handed himself over to you handcuffed. You've always been so compassionate. Too compassionate, I thought, at times. You took care of every bleeding heart that came your way. Even went so far as to almost marry one of them."

Peyton pinched his waist. "I loved Kenneth, Dare."

He scoffed. "He was a charity case you dug yourself too deep into, Pey. You may have loved him, but you were never in love with him. Not like you are now."

She didn't know what was the right way to respond to his accusation, so she just stared at him, heart pounding.

"I see the smile on your face when you find on eof his letters on the porch. You're falling in love with him. I can see it."

She shook her head. "I don't even know his name." She slumped down beneath the covers, pulling them up to her nose. He was right, though. She was falling in love with him. That's why she'd refused the date with that perfectly nice bank teller. It's not as if she didn't like him, she just felt like she was in something with this mysterious man. "Are you still angry with me?"

You know I could never stay mad at you. I love you too much. Besides, if you think it's right, and you honestly believe that he knows it was a mistake, then I trust your judgement. I may not trust this guy, but that could just be the fact that I'm your big brother and it's my job to hate your boyfriends."

He got up then and went to her door. "I don't know if Angela told you, but we're starting to date. I hope you don't mind." He winked and left the room before she had a chance to say anything.

After a moment to herself, Peyton pulled out her cellphone to text Angela. Hell yes. was all she said.

Thank you! was her reply.