“Are you?” I ask, finally looking at her.
She shakes her head. “No, I’m not. I’m in a really good place with Noah. Yes, our schedules suck, and he’s giving up a lot to be with me, but I’m trying to make things worth it for him. I know living in Chicago isn’t his idea of a good time, but he tries, for me. He’s willing to do whatever it takes so I can have the career I want.”
“You know you don’t have to work once you’re married, right?”
Peyton shrugs. “I want to. I want to be on the sidelines calling a game. As odd as it sounds, I want Nick to turn on the television some Sunday and see me there, reporting. I want people to see that despite who my husband is or who my father is, I’m independent and can pave my way.”
“And I’m the opposite right now. I feel like no matter what I do, it’s wrong. If something is working, I’m looking for a way to break it. I hate school right now. I told Quinn I wanted to drop out and start my career and he fired me before he truly even hired me. He’s on my tail about my drinking, grades, and my social life.”
“It’s what big brothers do.”
“But it’s not. I need him to be supportive.”
“He is, Elle. All of us are, but watching you go through this change is hard. I would understand if we had a sheltered life, but we didn’t. We traveled the world on a tour bus. We’ve been to the Oscars, the Grammy’s and a slew of other parties. Dad didn’t keep us locked away or hidden from the paparazzi. And I know you went through a lot when I was in that bed, hanging on, but look at me, I’m fine. I’m getting married!”
I do look at her, and all I see is perfection. Somewhere along the lines of growing up, I went from the girl whose daddy called her princess because of how I dressed and acted, to the girl who started acting like her brother and dad, wearing combat boots and flannel shirts tied around my waist. Peyton, who everyone thought would be this tomboy, turned into a girly girl. We became polar opposites of who we were before we hit our teenage years. Part of me wishes I could go back, make a change or two while the other part of me wishes I never had to grow up.
“You are getting married, and I have a feeling it’ll be the most perfect wedding ever.”
Peyton moves a few strands of hair out of my face. “Elle, to me, you’re perfect. You’re my sister, my best friend and the only person who knows all my secrets. Even Noah doesn’t know everything. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m here for you. You can tell me anything, knowing I won’t judge. I’ll listen and offer what advice I can, but you have to let me in.” She pulls me toward her, allowing me to rest my head on her shoulder and for that short moment in time we become us again. Peyton and Elle, twins together taking on the world. Together, we sit and watch the guys surf, oohing and aahing when they do something cool, and chuckling under our breaths when they crash and burn.
8
Ben
The six-pack of beer I carry into my brother’s garage isn’t going to be enough to dim the memories I have of last night nor will it come close to erasing the horrors I felt this morning. Deep down, I knew I should’ve put a stop to everything Elle and I were doing last night, but I didn’t, and now I’m the one paying the price.
How does she not remember? One would think your body would remember a night of sex. It wasn’t some wham bam, catch in the morning romp either. I took care of her, and she, me. We made our first time count, and while she may have been drunk or tipsy when we started, I can guarantee she wasn’t by the time we finished. Yet, when the sun rose, she had zero recollection. I don’t even want to think how many times she’s done this. The thought literally makes me want to hurl.
I set the beer down on the garage floor next to the legs of my brother. He pulls himself out from under the car and smiles. “Two days in a row. I must’ve done something good in my past life.”
“And what were
you in your past life?” I ask my brother.
“Hell if I know,” he says, sitting upright. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys, where there’s a bottle opener. He takes two beers out of the flimsy cardboard carrier, pops the tops, letting the metal clank to the floor and hands me one. “Cheers. So why ya here?”
“Do I need an excuse to visit you?”
Brad pauses briefly before finishing his sip. “I saw you last night at your birthday party getting cozy with Elle.” He waggles his eyebrows, which results in me shaking my head. I stand and go over to his current project. About six months ago, some guy asked Brad to rebuild a ‘65 Mustang for him, offering him a boatload of money and a fancy garage to work in, which he couldn’t pass it up.
“What color is she going to be?”
“Cherry red with white leather interior.”
“How long until it’s finished?” I ask.
Brad comes over to stand next to me. “Once I finish with the engine, I’ll start the paint. The seats will be here in a few weeks. I can’t sew so I had to outsource them.”
“Then what happens then?”
My brother tips his bottle back and finishes his beer, whereas I haven’t even touched mine. Honestly, I’m not much of a day drinker, and as much as I’d love to get hammered and forget about the past twenty-four hours, it’s just not in me.
“Mr. Berg says he has another project, but he’s yet to say what it is, so we’ll see. Never know, maybe you’ll have a new roommate soon.”
“Or you could sublet,” I tell him with a shrug. Brad looks at me expectantly as if he’s waiting for me to finish. I sigh and finally take a drink from my bottle of beer. “I’ve been offered an internship in New York. I have until finals to decide on whether I’m going to take it or not.”
“What does Elle say?”