How We Were | ✔️ (Complete)

29. Happy Birthday, Peyton

To Buck's.

Well, I had two choices. One, I could crawl up into a corner somewhere like a gutter rat and spend the night there praying that I didn't get caught. Or two- I sobbed some more - I had to ask Jake.

I might as well get it over with. Once I'd wiped my face dry with the hem of my shirt, I shrugged on my backpack and dragged my feet back to the barn.

Jake, Miguel, Jimmy, and a guy named Chase were standing around the new horses, oohing and ahhing like city boys would do over a fancy sports car. They were also laughing and talking trash because I heard the words "tits" more than once.

Miguel saw me first. His lips thinned in disapproval but he tipped the neck of his Corona in my direction. Four pairs of eyes turned my way.

Jake's easy smile vanished from his face.

God, please just strike me dead right here, right now.

Jake excused himself and walked towards me. I didn't say anything because I was having a hard enough time trying not to cry.

"You need a ride?" he asked softly.

Seriously, fuck my life. I nodded.

He gestured to the door with his chin. "Okay. Let's go."

Jake told me we had to walk to his house to get his truck. It wasn't far, he said, he and his daddy lived in a house on Beaudry's property.

He walked ahead and I followed behind him.

The storm winds had brought the temperature down considerably, making the night one of the most pleasant in a while, and the walk through the moonlit ranch helped clear my head a little. Not all that business about Peyton and his Alice though, I couldn't think about that. That was too much.

"I don't think Miguel likes me," I said, trying to keep my thoughts from straying in that direction.

Jake responded without turning around. "Miguel doesn't like anybody."

"But I think he likes me even less than he does everybody else."

"Why does that even matter? Not everyone in the world is going to like you, who cares what random people think about you?"

I shrugged. "Easy for you to say, everybody likes you."

We arrived at the modest single story craftsman style bungalow to find the front door wide open.

"Why's the front door open?" I asked.

"Dad," he said, as if that explained everything. He stopped me on the porch. "I have to get the keys. Wait here, I don't know what kind of mood he's in."

I remembered Shana telling me that Earl Waites beat on Jake – or used to anyway. I can't imagine anyone beating on Jake as he was now. Either way, he didn't have to tell me twice. A run in with Earl Waites was pretty damn low on the list of things I was interested in experiencing. I leaned against the porch railing and waited.

The exterior of the house was really nice, neatly painted in grays and whites. Because I'm nosy, I peered into the house. Standard layout - living room, kitchen, hallway, three bedrooms with the master at the end of the hall, nothing special. Messy though, littered with empty bottles and beer cans and overflowing ash trays.

Jake reappeared and closed the door behind him. "Let's go."

Even after we got into the truck, he didn't ask me any questions. He didn't talk at all really, until we hit the cross section of the main road. "Where we going?"

"945 Echo Trail."

I know he heard me but we stayed idling in the middle of the road for a long time.

"It's not your problem to fix," I said softly. "But it's real nice of you to care."

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "I can't take you to Buck Reynolds' house," he said softly.

"You heard what he said."

"Do you even know what he does in that house?"

Of course I did. "I'm not an idiot. But Amber lives there too and she's fine," I said.

"Amber's depressed as hell. Look, you can stay at my house tonight and-"

"Then what? What about tomorrow? And the day after that? There's no point in delaying the inevitable. It'll be okay."

He finally turned to look at me. I knew I looked a mess. My eyelids were so swollen from all the crying that I could barely open my eyes. But did he have to look at me like that?

"Fuck you and your pity, Jake Waites," I whispered with the last of my fraying pride.

He took a deep breath and banged the back of his head a couple of times into the headrest, then rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, okay. Let's go."

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