I LOOK LIKE shit.
Not that I'm surprised, of course. I was up most of the night staring at my ceiling and contemplating every word Jaden had said to me. The things he said played on repeat in my mind until, eventually, I drifted off into a dreamless sleep around three in the morning.
Now, sitting in Hunter's truck as we pull into the school parking lot, I guzzle down a jumbo to-go mug of black coffee to compensate for the measly four hours I got last night.
"Were you really that worried about your calc test this morning that you had to stay up all night studying?" Hunter questions.
Yes, when he asked me why I looked like hell this morning, I lied. After how he reacted to my last little tiff with Jaden, I didn't want to risk ruining this weekend by telling him I got into a massive fight with my brother over the fact I'm a horrible sister. He doesn't need that baggage.
So, keeping up the act, I nod my head and pretend to be stressed out over a little math test.
"Don't get me wrong, I can add up exactly how much I'm going to spend at the cash before it's even ringed up, but I couldn't tell you the difference between sine and cosine if—"
Before I can finish my perfectly confusing analogy, Hunter slams down on the brakes and the truck lurches to a sudden stop. We weren't driving particularly fast in the gravel parking lot, but the seatbelt still digs into my shoulder as I jerk forward against it.
"Shit," Hunter curses. "You okay, babe?" He'd outstretched his arm in front of my body the moment he hit the brakes, and now he moves his hand to cup the back of my neck.
"I'm good, what the hell?" I've barely got the words out when I figure out what had just happened.
A shiny white Honda Civic had darted in front of Hunter's truck just as he'd been turning into a vacant parking spot, cutting him off with no warning. And as a familiar redhead emerges from the haphazardly parked car, the incident makes so much more sense.
"That bitch," I hiss, as Clarissa and her friend— whose name is either Cheyenne or Shawna, I can never care to remember— walk around to stand behind the car. Clarissa waves her fingers, a smug grin on her face.
That's it. I want to claw her eyes out.
Hunter ignores them, turning instead into one of the many available spots on the opposite side of the lot. As soon as he's parked, I hop out of the truck, bag slung over my shoulder and walk straight over to where evil incarnate stands with her hip popped out and her arms crossed over her chest.
"You might want to watch where you're going next time," she says cheerfully to Hunter, purposely eyeing his truck over my shoulder. "I don't think your insurance covers dinosaurs."
Yes, Hunter's truck is by far the oldest in the lot. But, knowing what that truck means to him, I glare at the redhead. "Will you ever come off your bullshit, Clarissa?" I ask, shaking my head. "It's tiresome and frankly, it's unattractive."
She ignores my words, of course, but she does turn her cunning hazel eyes on me. "I hope you enjoy your weekend in New York, Peyton," she says with a smile that makes my stomach drop. Turning on her heel, Clarissa and her flunky head for the door, but not before she calls over her shoulder, "Say hi to Mia for me, won't you?"
I'm pretty sure I didn't do well on my calculus test. Despite my lies to Hunter, I do have a basic grasp of the content, but Clarissa's farewell kept repeating in my head while I tried my best to focus on the equations in front of me. Before I knew it, the test time was up and I'd only finished seven of the twelve questions.
By the time lunch hour rolls around, and our group is preparing to leave, I'm ready to bolt out the front doors. Which I end up doing, trailed by Ethan, Addy and Hunter, overnight bags slung over our shoulders. Eliza plays escort, seeing us to the boys cars and making sure we let her know when we get to the airport. I've never seen the tough girl act like a mother hen, and I have to stifle a laugh. I feel bad her parents wouldn't agree to let her come, but she assures me not to worry about it as I give her a hug— the first ever— and climb into Hunter's truck.
When he turns into a long winding driveway I recognise, Ethan following behind him in his Saturn, I raise a brow.
Hunter rubs a hand over the back of his neck. "My, uh, mom wants to drive us. Something about not wanting us to have to leave our cars at the airport over the weekend."
I paint a smile on my face, but I know how big a deal this is for him. Claire barely leaves the house, let alone the town. I can't imagine how hard it must've been for her to offer to drive all the way to Fayetteville, almost two hours from Rock Valley.
When we pull up to the house, the red truck Hunter's father drives is gone. Instead, a plain silver van sits just outside the garage. He and Ethan park their vehicles off to the side, and by the time we reach the front door, Hunter's mom is already pulling it open and smiling at us. She hugs me first, and I gently hug her back. Ethan's next, and he hugs her like any teenage boy hugs his own mom. Hunter told me once that Ethan's parents were like his own. Watching Ethan and Claire, it's obvious he feels the same.
I don't turn to look at Addison until Claire does, her hands going to her mouth as if she's utterly surprised to see the timid blonde girl on her front porch. Addison has gone pale, and I barely have a moment to contemplate it before Hunter's mom has her arms wrapped around her tighter than I'd thought possible.
Turning to Hunter, I give him a questioning look, but he waves off my concern.
When Claire whispers something in Addy's ear that makes her go rigid, Hunter clears his throat to get her attention. "We should get on the road, Mom. Don't want to miss our flight."
Claire leans back, holding Addy's shoulders. My best friend doesn't look uncomfortable, per sae, but I give her a reassuring smile anyways. "There's a bag I packed with food for you kids on the counter," Hunter's mom tells him, and with a quick kiss to my temple, he brushes past her and heads for the kitchen. Claire lets go of Addy and turns in search of her purse and her keys. She finds the latter hanging on the wall quickly, but cannot find her bag where she says she left it. Before she can grow frustrated, Hunter returns with a large lunch bag of food in one hand, and a small leather purse in the other.
My heart swells in my chest as he hands the handbag to his mom and kisses the top of her head. "Let's go," he says, ushering her out the door.
The sun is setting on the horizon by the time the plane touches down in at Kennedy International Airport. I used to think the oranges, pinks and purples of the sun setting over the city skyline was the most gorgeous thing in the world. But after seeing the same pastels streaking the sky over an endless empty field... the view seems kind of crowded and underwhelming.
As soon as we're in the airport we stretch and wait for our bags to round on the luggage carousel. We'd picked up Cameron and Tayler in Huntsville along the way for the airport in Fayetteville, and I've been regretting it ever since. Cameron hasn't shut his mouth since he climbed into the van, with the exception of a fifteen minute stretch of time in the air where he'd said he had to go to the bathroom, not two minutes after Tayler. I'd heard a flight attendant yelling at the back of the plane, and the two of them had returned looking rather flushed and dishevelled.
Ethan had slapped a twenty dollar bill into a chuckling Hunter's hand a few minutes later with a grumbled, "You win."
"I'm starving. How long until we get to the hotel?" Cameron asks loudly, looking entirely impatient.
Ethan looks at him, gaping. "Dude, you ate most of the food Claire packed for us on the way here."
I groan, a sound that becomes more like a growl every time I hear Cameron whine. "Once we have our bags, we'll look for the car my dad sent. Then you are welcome to gorge yourself on room service, if it keeps your goddamn mouth shut."
Cameron only smirks at my jab, looking over at Hunter where he's grabbing my bag and Addy's off the carousel. "Girlfriend's getting cranky there, Hunt. Might want to take care of the when we get to the hotel, or she might take all our head's off this weekend."
"You're the only one who should be watching your neck, Cam," Hunter says, handing Addison's bag off to Ethan. "Or your balls, 'cause she's liable to kick you in them before the night's through."
Tayler cackles at that, oddly, and I grin at Cameron sweetly.
Once we all have our bags, we make our way through the crowded terminal and out to the street. There are yellow cabs parked up and down the sidewalks, dozens of people getting in and out of vehicles, and a handful of buses picking people up. I scan the long line of parked cars, my hand clasped tightly in Hunter's, until I see a black SUV with a driver holding a sign that says "Church".
I tug Hunter's hand and set off towards the SUV, waving for our friends to follow. My family hand a handful of drivers when we lived in Manhattan, but I don't recognise the man standing in wait for us. Regardless, I give him a smile. "I'm Peyton, my father Jonathon Church sent you to pick us up?"
He nods and opens the doors for us, taking our bags to put them in the back.
It's a half hour drive to the hotel my father calls home now, which isn't bad by New York traffic's standards. It's the same hotel owned by Mia's family, unsurprisingly, and I tense up remembering Clarissa's earlier words. Mia never used to hang out at her family's hotel for fun, and I'm hoping that fact hasn't changed.
My friends wait in the middle of the lobby while I give my name to the concierge, who in turn gives me the keys to our three rooms and tells my my father is in penthouse four. I thank him, and the six of us stuff ourselves into a private elevator that takes us up to the penthouse floors.
"Swanky," Cameron mumbles, followed by a grunt as Tayler elbows him in the ribs. Ethan gives her a thumbs up, and Cameron flips his friend off in return.
"Gamáto, can you not behave, for like, five minutes?" I ask sourly.
Cameron looks utterly confused, which earns a laugh from everyone who's familiar with my habit of cursing in Greek. I keep trying to teach Addy some colourful words so she doesn't feel so bad about swearing.I've been unsuccessful so far.
The elevator door pings open and we file out into the entryway of my father's penthouse, which puts a damper on my mood.
It's lavish, of course, decked out in creams and whites and golds, with floor to ceiling windows and elaborate antique chandeliers. The art on the walls is entirely abstract, and could send a handful of kids to college.
My friends keep their reactions quiet, but I know they're blown away by the decadence of it all. I would be too, if I'd expected any less from the Walker's Park Avenue hotel. It's just a glimpse of my old life, but its enough to make me shutter lightly.
"Dad?" I call, none too affectionately. There's no sign of my father or any housekeepers, so I wander farther into the apartment. My heels click against the polished floors, and I make it as far as the living area before I hear a set of heavy wooden doors slide open.
Unlike my mother, my father looks no different than he did the last time I'd seen him.
Jonathon Church is tall and lean in his perfectly pressed dress shirt and pants. He used to wear a suit jacket and tie to work every day, which both came off once he was home. That doesn't seem to have changed either as I note a jacket hanging over the back of a chair. His brown hair is lighter than mine, not a strand out of place, and his cold blue eyes meet mine with very little emotion in them.
Nevertheless, he smiles at me. "Peyton, sweetheart, I'm glad to see you got in okay." Of course, he closes the door to a room I assume is his office before he walks briskly towards me and hugs me. I try not to flinch away from the gesture of affection, which I can tell is meaningless just by the feel of it.
"Hi, Dad," I say blandly, fixing a smile on my face.
He pulls away and drops his hold on me. "How is your mother doing?"
I'd be lying if I say I'm not thrown by the question. Not, "how was your flight?" or "how was traffic?" Or even "how's your brother?". No, my father decides to cut straight to the chase and ask about his ex-wife.
I try to mask the surprise on my face as I tell him, "she's fine," and turn to survey the room. The apartment probably contains the same square footage as our house in Rock Valley, and I can't help feeling bitter about it. Both of his children and his ex-wife work minimum wage jobs to make ends meet, his child support payments just enough to pay the mortgage and electric bills each month. Yet here he is, living in a luxurious penthouse with his new thirty-five year old girlfriend.
Speaking of... "Where's Andrea?' I ask him, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my trench coat.
"She'll be here shortly. She's finishing up with an exhibit at the museum," he explains, motioning for me to lead the way back to the door. "Where are your friends?"
"Waiting by the elevator."
Sure enough, we round the corner towards said elevator, and my father stops short at the sight of the brood standing there. Cameron has his arms around Tayler and, mercifully, they're just talking quietly. Addison, in her vintage blouse, cardigan and straight leg jeans, looks more like a New Yorker than I would've thought possible as she stands with her arms around herself neck to the boys. Ethan and Hunter, on the other hand, look like they've stepped out of a logging camp with their flannels, plaids and worn denim.
I think my father's jaw actually hits the floor at the sight of my mismatched group of kids— and Cameron. A sense of pride fills me as I introduce them one by one, saving Hunter for last. I hold out my hand and he accepts it. "Dad, this is Hunter Maddox, my boyfriend."
My father's eyes widen almost imperceptibly as he takes in Hunter's work boots, grease-stained jeans and flannel shirt. He's probably recalling the last boy I introduced to him, who may have been a Tom Ford model, and may have also been sneaking out of my room.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Church," Hunter says, turning on the same kind of wholesome good-guy charm he uses with my mom and grandmother. He extends a hand, the one that's not clasped with mine, towards my imposing father. Surprisingly, my father actually shakes his hand.
"You go to my school with my daughter?" My dad looks as serious as ever, and I'm fairly certain he's squeezing Hunter's hand unnecessarily hard.
Hunter smiles warmly, making my heart flutter in my chest. "Yes, sir. Met her on her first day."
Dad gives me a tight lipped smile. "Well this is a surprise. You never mentioned a boyfriend, Peyton."
I would be mortified, except Hunter was a fly on the wall for the only conversation I've had with my father since he left us, and knows full well I never told my dad about him. And, also, he doesn't give a shit.
Hunter lies flawlessly. "Sorry about that. It was a last minute thing. Took a while to convince her to bring me along."
They chat back and fourth for a few more minutes, Dad keeping his comments short and clipped while Hunter oozes "I'll have your daughter home by eleven" attitude. Until I interrupt them, telling Dad we should probably go and put our things in our room before we find something to eat.
"We're down on the fifteenth floor, rooms 1527 to 1529." I don't bother telling him that I'll be sharing a room with Addison, not Hunter. He doesn't need to know.
"Andrea will be home any minute. You should wait and say hello."
"Dad, I've been travelling with three teenage boys since noon. If they don't eat soon, they're going to eat the furniture," I tell him, hooking a thumb over my shoulder at Cameron. "Especially that one."
My father looks exasperated by my friends already. "Ten minutes, Peyton." He looks over at the rest of them with a sigh. "There's a fridge in the kitchen. Help yourselves for now."
Cameron claps Ethan on the back without a word and drags Tayler off towards the kitchen. Ethan follows, muttering to me that he'll make sure Cam doesn't break anything. Which leaves Addison and Hunter standing with me and my father.
"How does brunch at Café au Lait in the morning sound?"
Ah, yes. The obligatory brunch.
"Sure," I say with half a smile, if only at the thought of the delicious mocha cappuccino crêpes my father knows I adore. Turning to Hunter and Addison, I ask, "You guys can find some breakfast right? I'll take you guys out to see the sights tomorrow afternoon."
Addison nods, and Hunter assures me they'll be fine.
The elevator dings behind us, letting us know that the mystical Andrea has arrived.
I turn around, barely interested in meeting the woman my dad used to replace my mom. But I do a double take when the elevator doors, and the woman steps out.
Because I know this woman, with her loosely curled blonde bob, bright green eyes and smart looking pencil skirt and blouse. Even those black leather pointy toe Louboutin pumps are familiar. For crying out loud, the woman owns seventeen pairs of the exact same shoes.
"What the fuck," are the only words I can manage to string into a sentence.
Because the woman my dad is living with?
She's my mother's best friend.
So, since my last update the world has gone to hell in a hand basket. I hope everyone is taking care of themselves, practising social distancing (introverts, it is our time), and washing their damn hands. I promise you guys, my essential ass is trying to get as much writing done as I can. I am determined to finish this story ASAP, so I'll be going back to my writing cave when I get off work.
Until next time, cheers to tayxwriter for constantly harassing me, you are my twisted sister.
Lots of love,