Rike and Peyton fell in love in college.
A boy from the wrong side of the tracks, covered in ink and crooning in a bar is the last person a straight laced girl with a art major should fall for, but his rough edges made her jagged, alive, shaving away the coddled southern princess and revealing a soul wild and brilliant.
They fell in love, despite her family and his past and all the reasons why it wouldn't work--and with their best friends, they made a life. Everyone was supposed to live happily ever after.
They, more than anyone, knows that life doesn't go according to plan.
Rike and Peyton fell in love in college. A boy with a guitar, and a poet's heart, and a girl with freckles dusted over her nose, a perfect fucking fairy tale.
But what happens when the fairy tale doesn't fall apart--but is forgotten?
“Peyton.”
I jerk and look around. The voice is vaguely familiar, and it clicks suddenly when I see Scott. He’s walking toward me, smoking.
He looks like shit, exhaustion clear on his face even under the oversized sunglasses and ball cap. He’s hunched forward, almost hiding. “God, where the fuck have you been?” he breathes, leaning down and hugging me.
I’m stiff in his arms, and he seems to realize it, because he pulls back and stares at me.
“Holy fuck. You don’t know, do you? You still don’t know who we are.”
“Feel free to clue me in,” I snap.
He takes off his ball cap and ruffles his hair, a scowl lining his forehead. “I’m going to fucking kick his ass.” Scott crouches. “This wasn’t the deal. We wouldn’t have agreed if we knew it was going to take this long for him to come clean about shit. I’ll talk to him.”
“Don’t,” I say, and his face goes pale. “I don’t know who or what I was to you or Lindsay. I don’t know what Rike is playing at. And I don’t fucking care.”
“Peyton, you don’t mean that,” he protests.
“I do. I’m not that girl. I don’t even fucking remember that girl. So if he wants to play god with someone’s life and memories, he’ll have to find someone else because I’m done.”
“What are you going to do?”
It’s a good question. I refuse to go to my parents. That bridge isn’t quite burned, but I’d set fire to it before I crossed it.
“It’s not your concern,” I say.
“You’re my girlfriend’s best friend, and you’re Rike’s—” He stops, and I lean forward.
“I’m what? What the hell am I to him?”
He shrugs. “You’re his. You think you can walk away, and he might even let you, for a time. Because he’s a dumbass. But it won’t stick, Peyton. Rike doesn’t know how to be without you.”
I smile, so cold it hurts even me. “He’ll have to fucking figure it out.”
“Peyton?”
Scott tenses, and his gaze darts to Tommy. Back to me, questioning.
“Pey, is he bothering you?” Tommy asks. He sounds cold. Threatening, for the first time since I’ve met him, and Scott straightens slowly.
“Dude, she’s practically family,” he says. As if it were true, and an excuse. It’s neither.
“We’re going to be late,” I say and Tommy’s pushing me forward.
“You’re really just going to leave. Let this random dude into your life, and ignore your family? Is that it?”
“My family?” I bark. “Are you fucking insane? Because keeping shit like who I am isn’t what family does. Fuck you, Scott.”
Tommy pushes me forward, another two steps.
“Lindsay is paralyzed. She won’t ever fucking walk again, Peyton. And she needs her best friend. You don’t want me or Rike—ok. But she needs you.”
I glance back at him, and I know he's telling the truth.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I really am. But I need to figure out who I am and what the hell I'm doing. I can't be strong for someone else if I can't even figure out where I belong."
He gives me a sad smile. "You belong with us, Peyton. You always have."
Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories. When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.
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