Seth's Point Of View
Peyton gives me a disbelieving look. "You really think this looks okay on me? I'm not really sure."
I nod my head, "Trust me no guy will be able to resist you when you're wearing that."
I look at our reflections in the mirror and struggle not to laugh at Peyton in her oversized fuchsia turtle neck.
"It's not really me," she argues.
For someone who usually gets good grades, she was really oblivious. We were in a bet, me against her. She really thought I'd help her buy clothes that would help her win?
We'd been in Charlotte Russe for over forty-five minutes, me piling her arms full of baggy jeans, hoodies, and turtle necks.
She hated all of them, of course.
"Hmmm, no lets go to a different store. I don't like these," she decides. Damn it, so close.
I don't say anything, just follow her outside. While we're walking towards Forever 21, I remember how she and I used to stand back to back in front of several people to tell who was taller, and it was always an argument.
Now she was down towards my chest area, and there was no argument.
She selects a few dresses then drags me towards the changing room. I stand outside while she changes, and when she's done she pulls me inside to look.
She comes out wearing a white lacy dress that looks similar to something Kelly would wear.
"I'm getting this one, I think," she grins.
"No way," I object. She'd win the bet in like .001 seconds in that thing.
She frowns, "Why not?"
"You thought I didn't know what you were doing?"
Then she starts laughing like crazy, like she was a genius for figuring it out. She laughed so hard that she had to lean forward and her whole body was shaking.
She laughed so hard that her laughter was actually funny, and I found myself laughing too. So every time we'd look at each other we'd start up laughing again, until finally, between laughs, she ordered me out so that she could change.
We walked out of Forever 21 with nothing. Peyton would never actually be caught dead with a dress like that one.
We walk aimlessly for a little while, not talking. The silence is comfortable, though.
When I see an Auntie Annie's I pull her towards it.
"Two churros please," I say to the girl behind the counter. She has blue streaked through her hair and looks as though she'd rather be anywhere else.
"That'll cost 5.99," she replies and hands me two churros.
I hand them to Peyton to hold while I fish six dollars out of my wallet. I take the penny as change and my churro from Peyton.
"Thank you," Peyton says, biting her churro.
I slide her the penny from the change, "Penny for your thoughts."
Peyton sighs and after a little while says, "We're supposed to be in detention."
I grin down at her, "Tell me you're not having more fun here."
She shrugs, "I need to go home soon. My parents will be freaked."
Thinking about her parents kind of brought back a lot of memories. Memories of her mom baking ravioli in a beat up apron that said, "Kiss the cook" and her dad flipping channels to watch five basketball games at once.
"How are they?"
She sighs, "Good. They missed you."
Missed. As in, they used to miss me. Then they decided I was just a douche who ditched their daughter.
"I missed them," I reply. It's true. They were like parents to me when mine were almost never around. "How's Ishmael?"
"Dead," she says with just a faint cracking in her voice. Ishmael was her tabby cat who had just had kittens when I knew her.
"Shit, I had no idea," I say, trying to back track.
"Well, you weren't there, so that makes sense," she snaps. I guess that was when I realized how fucked up things were between us.
