How We Were | ✔️ (Complete)

50. Peyton and Jake

Grow up and face the music, Layla. It's far more likely that they're still fucking.

That much was true. Jake wouldn't cut work just to hang out with her. She would have to do better than that.

I pictured the two of them together, him doing all the things he did with me with her, and blinked back the tears. "Fuck this," I mumbled, stepping out into the open. I marched towards him, fully intent on giving him a piece of my mind. And her too, once she arrived. That's right, I planned to kill both these fuckers with one huge stone.

Thank God, I didn't sleep with him.

I was passing the boat shed when I heard the distant roar of a car engine. Without thinking, I jumped into the shed, disappearing from view.

Peyton's car rolled up and parked beside Jake's.

Eh?

And Peyton stepped out of it.

Double Eh?

Stepping deeper into the shadows, I squatted down behind the overturned canoe and peered over it.

Unless Jake was deaf, blind and dumb, which he wasn't, he had to know that Peyton had arrived. But he kept his back to him and continued to skip his rocks. Peyton took a few steps forward and  stopped when he was about five feet from Jake. With his hands in his pockets, he watched.

I didn't know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt.

What was this? And was this better or worse than Jake coming here to meet Charlotte? Who called who? Jake had gotten here first so maybe he'd called, but the way Peyton was waiting him out made it seem like Peyton had done the calling. How wrong would it be if I were to look through Jake's phone later? Most importantly, why were they meeting?

Peyton spoke. I was too far to hear anything specific, just the low rumble of his voice. Jake listened to whatever Peyton had to say without turning around. But he did stop throwing his rocks.

Every once in a while, Jake responded, but the answers were short and clipped.

Whatever they were talking about was serious. And stressful, for both of them. I didn't have to be a body language expert to figure that one out. 

Once Peyton was done talking, the two of them stood completely still for a while, both of their bodies stiff.

Then, Jake turned around.

What I wouldn't have given for a pair of binoculars at that point.

Then, Jake started asking the questions while Peyton responded in short, clipped answers.

Once they were done, Jake stretched his arms, one after another, across the front of his body. Finally, he shrugged and seemed to agree to something. Some of the tension eased from Peyton's shoulders.

I was nearly dead from curiosity.

They stood in silence for a while longer, and there was an air of melancholy between the two of them, a reluctance to part. There'd been a deep love between the two, I could sense that much and watching the two of them like this was emotionally draining.

Eventually, they shook hands and left, Peyton following Jake until they reached the fork at the road. Peyton turned right, heading toward the house, and Jake made the left that would take him off the property.

For a long ass time after they left, I knelt there in the musty dark shed, completely drained of energy, wondering how the hell I was going to drag my ass up and bike back home.