The Natural History of Us (36 page)

I didn't answer, didn't nod, and she continued on, a picture of innocence. “Don't mind us. Just had to give my man a proper summer send off. We didn't think anyone was around.”

I had no words.

I had no emotions.

I simply stood there, staring at the couple before me, in complete and utter… nothing.

Oh, my brain still functioned. It reminded me that Lauren had staked her claim in January. That she'd spent the entire semester baking Justin cookies and decorating his locker, attaching herself to his hip before and after every game. The entire student body believed they were together, but each time my insecurity got the best of me and I got the courage to ask Justin about it, he'd swear he wasn't interested.

My brain screamed he was a big fat liar. That I was nothing but a fool.

“As you know, it's my job to service his needs,” Lauren said, sliding her hand along his shoulder. Justin knocked it off, shooting her an angry look, but she just grinned. Then she looked at me. “Especially if no one else is.”

“That's enough,” Justin growled, pushing her hand away. “Knock it off.”

Lauren looked shocked. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open, utter confusion replacing her previous gloat. I should've found satisfaction in that, but I didn't. I was too busy acknowledging that she clearly knew who I was, what Justin and I were to each other, and that I was the only one in the dark.

Finally, Justin turned. He took a step toward me, his face twisted in… what? Remorse? Shame? I didn't know and frankly, I didn't care. He'd proven his point loud and clear by asking me to meet him here—I was nothing to him.

A sob built in my chest, shaking my shoulders, and I lifted my hand in a wave.

“Peyton!” Justin called my name, over and over, his voice strained with emotion.

But I was already gone.

My
suitcase is open on the bed. I toss another shirt inside, and Mi-Mi reaches in to fold it. She shares a glance with Aly, who then turns to Gabi, a surprising tagalong in this Operation Keep Peyton Busy. Kara, bless her heart, is wearing double sensor bracelets in the living room, watching Aly's and Mi-Mi's babies so they can talk me down from the ledge.

“You're
sure
you don't need anything?” Aly asks, giving me a hopeful look. “I could head down to the kitchen and grab a plate of snacks—I made a batch of dark chocolate chili brownies this morning. I think I even surprised myself. You liked them, right, Gabi?”

She nudges her best friend in the side, and Gabi rolls her eyes. “Excuse her. In her mind, chocolate cures everything, but in this case, she ain't wrong. They really are good.”

I smile, grateful they're trying so hard. “Thanks, but no. I'm not really hungry.”

Aly sighs, like she can't believe anyone would turn down chocolate, and I toss a pair of shorts into my case.

When I stormed up from the beach, she and Gabi were sitting on the stairs talking. They took one look at my tear-soaked cheeks and Justin hot on my trail and went full-on grizzly. While Aly threw her arms around me, Gabi threw her hand in Justin's face, telling him to cool his jets, then they both hustled me up the stairs. Kara and Mi-Mi joined the rescue team somewhere between the first and second floors, and after closing the bedroom door behind us, Mi-Mi let loose a shocking string of curses.

I think I love them all.

“I texted Brandon and he said we can take you home as soon as he gets back from the game. He also said to tell you they won.” Aly smiles as she hands me my pajamas, hoping the news will cheer me up. It doesn't. I mean, I'm glad Dad's team won. I'm happy they're headed to the championship. But
cheered
? Sadly, it's gonna take a lot more than that.

Dropping my PJs inside my suitcase, I give the messy room one final search and then zip it up. Everything else here belongs to Lauren.

My stomach churns, and I inhale deeply through my nose. I still can't believe what an idiot I am. Falling for it—falling for
him
—again. They must be laughing so hard right now.

The bedroom knob turns and for a split second, silly hope blooms in my chest. I imagine Justin waltzing through the door, coming to fight for me and tell me that what I clearly saw didn't happen. Spew the same old song and dance he's been giving for the last month. Not that I would believe it, but it's nice to think he would try.

But it's not Justin who walks through the door. It's worse. Way worse. It's
Lauren
.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gabi growls, stepping in front of me. She folds her arms across her chest and I admit even I'm a little intimidated.

But not Lauren. Nope. She sighs like she's bored, like she's seen this act a million times, and says, “Last I checked, this is still my room. And she and I have to talk.”

She shifts her gaze to me, and all the hurt and anger that's built over the last three years boils to the surface. Laying a hand on Gabi's arm, I gently move her aside.

“Talk?” I repeat with a scoff. “What could you and I possibly have to say to each other? You've already won. Bravo. You've got Justin. I hope the two of you are very happy together.”

Hands shaking, I tug my suitcase off the bed, having a total out of body moment. I don't do this. I don't get angry in public, or even speak my mind—not when it's counted, at least. But I've imagined doing so plenty. Each time I relive that moment freshman year, I try for a different outcome. Sometimes I imagine going off like a lunatic. Other times, I've gone for quietly strong and confident. But that's only ever been in my head. The living, breathing reality makes my stomach churn, and it's quite possible I'll throw up.

But I go for it anyway.

“Frankly Lauren, I think you two deserve each other,” I say, yanking the handle on my case. “You're both lying, manipulative, spineless assholes, and I don't need that kind of energy in my life. Now, if you'll excuse me…”

Shockingly, Lauren has taken what I have to say up to this point, leaning against the wall holding her bedazzled car seat and nodding slowly. But now that I'm obviously done, she continues blocking the door while turning to Aly. “Think you can give us a minute?”

One look at Aly and it's clear she doesn't approve. Gabi, either. She laughs like the request is ridiculous, and from the hate-fire Mi-Mi's directing Lauren's way, the phrase, “if looks could kill” has new meaning. But I'm curious.

Lauren and I don't chat. I can't think of a single time we've even held a conversation. I'm about a half hour away from
busting out of this place, and the only other time she'll have to see me is graduation on Friday. Other than FACS, we don't share any classes, so we won't share an exam room. The papers we turn in to Coach Stasi next week serve as our final exam.

So, why hold me up? What does she have to gain? Or, is she here to simply rub it in?

What can I say, I'm an inquisitive girl.

“It's fine.” I nod at Aly's not-so-subtle look of “are you for real?” and say, “I can handle her.”

I stop short of adding that there's nothing more she can say to hurt me, because that's not quite accurate. People don't fall in and out of love instantly. The broken pieces of my heart still beat for Justin. It's pathetic, but it's true. If Lauren chooses to go into specifics of their relationship, it will gut me for sure… but then, a part of me needs to hear it.

It's the only way I'll truly get over him.

Gabi makes a V with her fingers, swinging it from her eyes toward Lauren and back again in the universal symbol for “I'm watching you.” “We'll be right outside.”

Mi-Mi squeezes my shoulder on her way out, and Gabi gives me a chin lift, which I'm pretty sure is “good luck” in Gabi-ese. Aly hesitates at the door before offering a small smile of support, and quietly pulling it closed behind her.

“Nice guard dogs you got there.” Lauren sneers as she walks over to the vacated window. “Everyone just loves you, don't they?”

I withhold the pity-party, not wanting her to have the satisfaction, and go for bluntness. “Why are you here, Lauren?”

Her lips flatten into a thin line and she moves aside a wisp of thin curtain, feigning interest below. “You know, I had to hold Justin off. He was ready to storm in here, go all caveman and throw you over his shoulder if he had to, so you would listen. I thought it'd be better if we talked this out, girl to girl.”

She can't be serious. Are we supposed to negotiate visitation rights? In my opinion, she can have him. “I have nothing to say to you,” I tell her honestly, but when she swings me an amused look, I feel my cheeks burn hot. “Nothing
else
to say, I mean.”

“Well, suit yourself. I have plenty.” And, with that, she strolls toward her bed and plops onto the mattress.

For a long moment, she doesn't say anything else, she just sits there watching me roll my suitcase back and forth along the hardwood floor. The inhuman sounds of breathing floating up from the car seat ratchet up the tension. My leg muscles twitch, and the insides of my cheeks ache as I mutilate them into hamburger meat in effort to keep from speaking up. But I refuse to budge or break the stand-off.

I've already said what I needed to say. More than I ever thought I would. Now, it's her turn.

Lauren's gaze zeroes in on me. “Nothing happened,” she finally says. “Either time.”

“Wait… what?” So much for not talking. Shaking my head, I reach a hand back and guide myself onto the bed. “I don't understand. What game are you trying to play here? I saw what I saw—
both
times. Despite what you may think, I'm not a freaking idiot.”

Yes, that's exactly what I've been calling myself, but she doesn't need to know that.

Lauren sighs. “I never said you were. I know what you saw three years ago. You saw exactly what Justin and I wanted you to see.” Her words bring an itch to the back of my brain, like something I'm supposed to remember. “That kiss behind the concession stand? It was staged, Peyton. I kissed his cheek, but that was it. Justin didn't kiss me back and he never touched me…” She winces a bit and corrects herself. “Well, not until junior year. But by then, you two were long over.”

I stare at her, open-mouthed, words no longer making sense.

“I won't pretend I care about what happened,” she continues, grabbing a purple squishy pillow she'd brought from home. “But Justin asked me for a favor, and I'm not in a habit of telling that boy no.” She winks, like we're sharing a secret, and I fist my hands in my lap. “Anyhoo, he said he needed you to
think
he cheated, but the second we got to the ball field, he got really weird. Fidgety and looking green. Honestly, I thought he'd call the whole thing off. But that's when you showed up, so, I gladly played my part.”

She squeezes the soft pillow in her hands. “Now, admittedly, I had my own reasons to break you two up, but, whatever. I kissed him. On the cheek. And sadly, that's all it took for you to buy it.” She smiles like she's proud—typical Lauren behavior. But I catch the flare of shame in her eyes.

“How do I know you're not lying?” I ask.

Honestly, I want to believe her. I mean,
of course
I do. Believing means I wasn't pathetically blind in the past. It means I didn't miss Justin cheating on me right under my nose.

But, it also means that he set me up, that he lied to me, and that he hurt me on purpose.

“Damn girl,” she says with a laugh, “my lipstick wasn't even smeared! I mean, I'm
good
, but I'm not that good. If we really went at it, I would've had pink crap all over me. It wouldn't have been pretty.” Then with a wicked grin she adds, “But it
would
have been hella fun.”