Twenty-Three

The last Monday of February is a cold one. On my usual trek to my art class, the frigid air initiates a shiver that seems to rip through my entire body.

This past weekend felt like some sort of a turning point. The vividness of every little thing that had happened at the lake house this past Friday plays in my head over and over, and I wonder if there would be any backlash over it.

I grab the cart of paints and head over to the mural without Jamie. She's late. Or maybe she isn't even here today, I have no clue. I hadn't seen her this morning before first, so it's likely she's just absent.

After unlocking the door and setting up the paints, Jamie finally shows up. She shuts the door behind her.

"Hey," I greet.

"Hi."

I turn to look at her. Why does she look so... annoyed?

"Listen," she continues. "I'm gonna head out a little early today..." She finally locks eyes with me. "I'm going over to Lora's."

Lora's? She going over to her house? For what? Then I suddenly remember, they had grown awfully close over the past week. Hell, they might be dating for all I know.

Jamie refuses to tell me anything about it, though.

"Okay," I respond.

We fall into our normal work rhythm, except now there's this negative tension between us. What the hell is that about? Had I done something to piss her off? I can't put my finger on it... Had I said something or done something at the party? I try to distract my brain from the feeling, but only find my curiosity over Lora and her escalating in response.

"Are you and Lora dating now?" I blurt.

Peyton, what the hell are you doing?

Jamie shrugs. "Maybe. That's what we're gonna talk about today, actually."

Something in my heart quivers in pain. God, why the hell does it still hurt? I saw this coming from miles away! Especially after this past weekend.

The lake house is packed. More packed than usual, but this is because of the wind outside. Gibbs and Darian had extinguished the bonfire not too long ago. They had been worried it would spread and start a problem they couldn't lie to the cops about. So, now we're confined to the inside, and even though the lake house is spacious, having almost every senior in here makes it a bit cramped.

I squeeze through the kitchen with my new drink and search for my friends. They're here somewhere, probably at the beer pong table, so I head there. When I arrive at the table, all I see is Jamie and Lora killing the game, together. Jamie makes a shot. Lora pulls her in for a well-deserved kiss. The bile rises in my stomach at the sight.

"Nice job, babe!" Lora shouts.

Babe, I think. They're on a pet-name basis now?

They pull apart just in time for Jamie's gaze to lock with mine. I hope the jealousy isn't blatantly written on my face. I look away, but not before I catch the hint of a smirk on Jamie's lips.

"Me and Peyt get next round!" Gibbs shouts.

Then, Jamie and Lora both end the game as winners.

Jamie leans on the table arrogantly and looks at me first, as if she's silently taunting me. What the hell?

"Well, I hope you brought your a-game, Peyt."

We ended up winning, Gibbs and I, and successfully dethroned Lora and Jamie. The only bad part was that we kept winning, which meant I ended up getting way too drunk. This obviously didn't help when I saw Jamie and Lora getting cozy on the couch.

"Shit," I say. "I didn't expect to win that much."

"We're a good team, Peyt." Gibbs belches. "You should've expected it."

I just laugh as I search for Gwen and Darian, who are standing around in the living room. They look as if they're having an intense conversation. Intense enough to discourage Gibbs and me from walking up to them. Then I see Jamie and Lora talking it up on the couch. This time, Jamie's hand is on Lora's thigh, inching its way up with every joke told. Lora doesn't seem to mind. I mean, why would she?

I turn away from them and look at Gibbs, but the image is still burned into my brain. And then my imagination escalates it. Jamie makes a joke. Lora laughs. Jamie finds the courage to lean in and, before you know it, they're making out. People stare, but try not to make it too obvious, but who could blame them? They're both hot, and Jamie's probably a really good kisser.

"You okay?" Gibbs asks.

"Sure."

It's a robotic response. I know that. What else can I do? My heart hurts. It's been hurting for months. I feel more dead inside every day. It probably wouldn't be long until I couldn't feel anything at all.

Then, out of nowhere, a third party joins us.

"Hey, Peyton."

I look up at Noah. He's wearing a cologne that really compliments him. God, I desperately wish I could feel something. I really did. For him. He's such a good guy, and I deserve a relationship. I deserve a meaningful kiss. I just wish it could be with a familiar Chicago native instead...

"Hey, Noah."

The silence is killing me. Why is Jamie so quiet? She's usually talking about deep and meaningful topics, or about Chicago, or asking me a million questions about my life.

"What about you and Noah?" she asks.

I can't help but notice the bitterness in her tone.

"What about us?" I counter.

"Well, I mean, the last time I saw you, you and Noah were making out on a bed." She refuses to look at me. "Figured things between you two were progressing."

"Do you wanna go upstairs?" Noah shouts over the noise of the party. "To talk?"

Upstairs? We could just go to the kitchen, or outside... but hell, what do I have to lose? We're having a decent conversation, and I have to pee really bad.

"Sure!"

He follows me upstairs and into a guest room. I disappear into the bathroom and relieve myself. Then I'm staring at myself through a mirror.

You're drunk, I think. Like, really drunk.

I wash my hands and exit the bathroom. Noah is circling his thumbs against his plastic cup while he nervously sits on the bed. He really is a cute boy. If I were straight, he would be my first pick, for sure.

"We're not sleeping together," I blurt. "I just wanna clarify..."

He just laughs. "I know."

I join him on the bed and sit close, but not too close. The heat radiates from his body. Is he nervous? Am I nervous?

"Can I ask you something?" he asks.

My heart speeds up. I hate that question. The asking of permission. As if it's a disclaimer that the next question will probably hit me like a punch to the gut.

"I guess."

He finally quits staring at his hands and looks at me. His expression manages to make my stomach sink to my knees.

"Is there a reason..." He stops. "Like, I've noticed you really haven't dated..."

God, just spit it out! I know you just want to know if I'm gay. Just ask. I'm going to lie about it anyway. I raise my brow in annoyed anticipation.

"There's just rumors going around that you might be a lesbian," he finally says.

Ah, there it is. The confirmation I needed to prove all of my worst fears right. See? My paranoia wasn't all for nothing, now was it?

I laugh. "Of course, there are."

Then I down the rest of my drink.

"I don't care if you are!" he defends. "I mean, I care because, well, I like you a lot, but I've known you forever, and you're a great person. And there's nothing wrong with being gay..."

"Noah," I interrupt his rambling. "Stop."

He falls silent.

I study him. Like, really study him, as if looking at him hard enough would somehow trigger some sort of attraction. I imagine him kissing me, my fingers running through his hair, his hands gliding over my thighs... but nothing. There's nothing there. No excitement, no desire... Somewhere, deep down, it makes me feel broken.

Yet, maybe actually doing it would be different.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he apologizes. "I'm sorry."

I shake my head. "No one knows who I am, but me. Let's just leave it at that."

I watch his eyes fall onto my lips for a split second. He wants to kiss me. I can see it, plain as day. I could let him. It's just a kiss. And maybe, if I did, a miracle would occur, and I would feel something other than numb.

"I really wanna kiss you," he confesses.

Why did he have to be so goddamn sweet? He's making this harder than it has to be. If he had been an arrogant douche, I wouldn't have a problem hurting his inflated ego. But that isn't Noah.

"So, kiss me."

It could be the alcohol. Or the loneliness. Or the unnerving knowledge that everyone is, in fact, talking behind my back about possibly being a lesbian. It could've been the stress from lying to my mom about applying to out-of-state colleges, or the pressure of finishing high school with perfect grades, perfect relationships, and winning this goddamn mural contest.

Or, maybe, I just didn't care anymore because I'm now coming to terms with the fact that I had somehow completely fallen for Jamie, and she was now with someone else.

Noah's kiss is gentle. His hand cups my cheek and pulls me into him. I close my eyes and allow my lips to connect with his. It isn't bad. It isn't rushed. It's nice...

Unfortunately, it also isn't anything special.

Our lips move together, and I try hard to feel something for his sake, but instead find myself fighting off images of Jamie. I can feel her long hair tickling the sides of my face, her delicate fingers tracing my jaw... Our noses touch, and the nose ring I always thought was kind of hot grazes my skin. Then, her tongue glides over my bottom lip, which causes my stomach to clench in response...

Then, out of nowhere, the bedroom door swings open, causing me to jerk away from Noah.

"Peyton? Jacki said..." Jamie stops at the sight. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean..."

The look on her face is blurry from the alcohol. Why is she here? Why had she been looking for me? And why is Jacki somehow involved? Then, she shuts the door just as fast as she had opened it. Noah and I sit in silence. What had just happened?

"I-I'm sorry, I uh..." I stand abruptly. "I should see what that was about."

Noah nods sadly. "It's fine, Peyton."

But when I make it downstairs, I see Lora and Jamie walking out the door, together.

"It was just one kiss," I reply. "And why were you even looking for me in the first place?"

Jamie finishes the section she had been working on before she sets her brush down on the cart. She looks as if she's getting ready to leave. I need answers before she does.

"Jacki said you went upstairs 'cause you got sick," she reveals. "I was worried, so I went looking for you. But I should've figured Jacki had other motives."

Motives? What exactly could be her reasoning behind making sure Jamie saw Noah and me making out?

She throws her backpack over her shoulder.

"I'm gonna head out," she says. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Then, before I can even get a goodbye in, she's out the door. The confusion of the situation is disorienting, but at least now I could analyze everything in peace.

Jamie's face the night she had caught Noah and I together... well, it had never left my mind. She had looked so... shocked. Or hurt? But why would that make any sense? And why the hell would Jacki insist on sending Jamie after Noah and me, fully aware that we had gone upstairs together. Had she wanted Jamie to see? And for what?

Deep down, I already know the truth.

Jacki is constantly in competition with me. Every one-up she could get was a small win, but the one thing she seems to desperately want is... Jamie. So, if she wanted Jamie to see Noah and me, alone, that meant she knew it would upset Jamie.

Which means Jacki not only knows that I'm lying about being a lesbian. She also knows Jamie likes me, and I had, once again, completely ruined it.