Peyton's Point of View
Someone knocks at my bedroom door.
"Come in," I shout.
My dad sits at the end of my bed. He wastes no time giving me the "I'm a concerned dad" look.
"Honey, we're worried about you," he spits it out. My parents have been having hushed conversations about me for days.
"I'm fine, it's just a cold," I mumble. I ignore him by flipping through the channels.
"You haven't gotten out of bed in three days. Have you even showered?"
Then he sees the plates of breakfast and lunch he brought me, uneaten on my dresser. "And you've barely eaten."
"I'm fine, dad."
"You have to go to school. This isn't like you. You went to school that time you had that terrible ear infection. Remember how much it hurt? You woke up in the middle of the night screaming, but you still went."
Trust me, it was nothing compared to what I feel now. I keep channel surfing.
He manually turns the tv off. "You have to go to school tomorrow, or we're taking you to the doctor."
"I'd rather go to the doctor than to school." What am I, ten?
My dad is shocked, "You hate the doctor!"
"Fine, Peyton, have it your way." He leaves and I hear him talking to my mom in the hallway. She had been listening against the door.
"She's never done anything like this before," my mom says. It hurts to see them so worried, but I can't go back to that school.
I can't do it again. I know I'll walk in and it'll be like Sophmore year all over again. He'll be making out with some girl against his locker. I'll go cry in the bathroom, and that'll be that.
I can't do it.
* * * * *
Pretty little liars is on the tv and I'm crying into the pillow so my parents don't hear me. I remember Seth screaming at the tv.
"JUST GO TO THE FUCKING POLICE!"
He'd get so mad at the show sometimes, and I'd laugh so hard at him. Then I'd yell at him for talking during the show.
The memory makes me want to laugh and cry and scream all at the same time.
Then I hear a gentle knock on the door.
"I'm fine, please I just need some time alone."
The door creaks open, "Peyton? It's, um, me."
Bri walks in to the room and sits down cross-legged on the bed, giving me her pity eyes.
I wipe my eyes, like that'll hide the fact that I haven't moved from this bed in three days. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, you haven't been in school. You haven't answered your phone." She shrugs sheepishly, "And your parents called me. They told me not to say anything, but you know."
A few seconds pass and she sighs, "Why didn't you call me? I had no idea."
"It's not that I didn't want you to know. I just didn't want anyone to know. I feel so embarassed about what happened."
"What did happen?"
"I realized I has been making bad decisions. I cheated on Miles. God, that's not me, Bri. I can't forgive myself for doing that."
"So? You made a mistake. We all do. What happened with Seth?"
"He was a mistake," I choke out. Was that all he was? Why did it hurt so much to hear his name?
"I cheated on Miles! I'm obviously not making good decisions. If I wasn't so oblivious I'd realize that Seth and I are never going to work. I didn't mean anything to him freshman year, and I don't mean anything to him now." I try to convince her.
She looks like she wants to say more. "I brought strawberry icecream. It's downstairs. You have to go down there if you want some," she coaxes.
I smile a little, "Thanks, Bri."
* * * * *
After Bri leaves, I pile my hair up into a messy pony tail and start to clean up my room. I bring dinner dishes back down to the kitchen, and my parents eye me apprehensively.
They act like its been years since I've been up instead of a few days. When I clean off my desk I find my English notebook, and I open it up.
When you fall in love, you care so much about the other person. Everything else kind of fades away until you can only see that other person. I guess I date people to stop thinking about one person.
Had Seth been talking about me when he said that?
I realize then that I need to finish this. I need to write down what happened during our project together. Maybe then I can move on.
* * * * *
Seth and I are very different people. Seth is outgoing, witty, and candid. He cares about the people close to him and doesn't think twice about speaking his mind.
Meanwhile, I'm introverted, logical, and sometimes "uptight". That's what he calls me, atleast.
During this project, I became familiar with his personal views on love. He seemed to be a firm believer in love, despite appearing to be carefree towards any girl that approached him.
I challenged him to try to get a girl to fall in love with him, to push his boundaries. In return, he challenged me to get out of my comfort zone and go on several dates.
Together we experimented with our limits. I went out to parties. I went to dates at ice cream parlors and family owned restaurants.
Despite my efforts, he succeeded in making a girl fall in love with him before I could go on enough dates. You might be wondering how I know for sure that a girl really fell for him.
I know because I fell in love with him.
I was asked to write about what love means to me, what it is, and what it feels like.
Loving Seth was terrifying. I was terrified by how aware I was when his arm bumped mine when we would walk. I was terrified that he would hear my heart beating out of my chest when I was with him.
Above all, I was terrified that he didn't return my feelings.
Love is equally as beautiful. I've never been happier than when I was fifteen and joking around by his side.
Then, at the end of our freshman year I felt so much more hurt than I had ever imagined. Seth left me behind and discovered the joys of dating bubbly upperclassmen.
In the past few weeks, I got a taste of what I used to have. I finally felt alive, singing and dancing around in his kitchen.
I love Seth. It is powerful and lovely.
He doesn't love me the same way. It is scary and painful.
