“Don’t call him a nut, but since you’re bringing it up—why didn’t you break up with him when he was treating you like that?”
The nut reference must have hit a nerve. I decide to ignore his response. “Besides the fact I wasn’t the most self-assured girl then, it was hard to let go of the Seth I knew at the start. The boy who showed up at my school with flowers. The boy who threw pebbles at my window and sang to me at midnight. He was the first boy who ever really liked me.”
Sam’s confused gaze searches mine. “What are you talking about? Every guy in our group wanted you at the first party Jill brought you to.”
Suddenly, I’m confused. Did Sam want me? He had never acted like it until maybe that ill-fated night. “I’d been—overweight through most of high school. The summer before we met, I lost over thirty-five pounds. The guys at my school who’d never looked at me didn’t change their minds, even after I’d lost the weight.” My thumb absently rubs the side of the coffee cup. “If I’m being honest, I have to admit that Seth’s attention went to my head.”
He studies me. “The guys at your school were idiots even before you lost the weight.”
I smile at that. “I liked to think so.”
He watches me with a slow burning gaze. “I wonder if you’d never . . .”
“What?”
With the shake of his head, his gaze returns to normal. “Nothing. No use wondering over the past. So your new boyfriend doesn’t have any issues with you being on tour with four guys?”
“He wasn’t super keen on the idea, but he trusts me,” I say, feeling a little uncomfortable talking to Sam about Bryce. Still, I did ask about Seth, so I guess we’re opening the floodgates. Kind of. “Plus, he’s on the baseball team, and will be gone for half the summer anyway.”
“So, what, if he wasn’t busy all summer, would you still have come?”
I tap my cup on my knee and seriously consider the question. “Probably. I’d like to work in the music business as a journalist eventually. This opportunity was perfect for me.”
“So your career comes ahead of your boyfriend?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it like that. I like him a lot but we’re not engaged or anything. There wasn’t some dramatic choice involved. It wasn’t like coming on this tour would mean us breaking up.”
He tilts his head in something like a half nod, and then the room is filled with the sound of whirling water as both of us stare at the washing machines.
“So you like our album?” he asks, breaking our silence.
“It’s good,” I say with a smile. “Real good. I’ll admit I was surprised. The mix of folk, blues, and punk really works.”
“Except for the surprised part, I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you.”
I nudge his arm with my elbow. “What surprised me was the complexity of the music. You guys go to my school. You’re a band from mid-Michigan. It’s just unusual to find such awesome talent so close to home. When I first listened to the album, it seriously impressed me.”
“That just came out. You never came to see us before we released it?” His tone is incredulous.
“Once,” I admit, then decide to be totally honest. “It was the U-Palooza at the beginning of sophomore year, and I still wasn’t over the whole Seth thing. When I saw you playing onstage, I kind of went into shock. The only band member I’d heard about in advance of the show was Romeo. I made sure not to go to any more shows.”
“Hell,” he says, running a hand through his messy curls. “You must have been really hung up on Seth.”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t actually about Seth. It was more about me. The whole thing hurt me more than it should have, probably because I was so vulnerable from the start. The whole weight thing . . . and finally getting attention . . .” I don’t finish. I’ve said enough. A conversation about my body image and self-esteem issues? We’re just not going there.
He stares at me for a long moment. “Well, that sucks. I’m sorry. I never meant . . . Things were a bit tense after that—that night.”
We stare at each other and emotions churn in my stomach, both from the release I feel from talking honestly and because his confused frown makes me want to reach out to him.
The whirl of a washer halting its spin cycle fills the sudden silence between us.
He stands and tugs a rolling wire cart over to a machine.
I get the other cart and push it next to his, filled with fresh resolve that it’s time to get over the past. “It’s been nearly four years,” I say, opening a washer while trying to separate my emotions from the facts. “We were all kids. Somehow, after seeing you at the U-Palooza, I started feeling ready to let go of the what-ifs.”
Without looking at me, he heaves clothes from the washer into the cart. “Yeah, it’s better for you to move on. I guess with things fucked up between Seth and me, I didn’t consider how much everything might have affected you.” He pauses, pulling out more wet clothes, and focuses on me. “It’s just that when you showed up at my door before the tour, all that shit resurfaced, and I went into dick mode.”
Nodding, I reply, “For one quick second, I was overwhelmed with the past too when Romeo called me. I’m just not that person anymore.” My lips press together as I glance at the wet pile of clothes in the cart. “I never was the person Seth made me out to be after that night.”
I glance up and he’s frowning at me. “Peyton, for what it’s worth, I never thought you were that person.” He rolls the cart over to a dryer.
I’m left standing there, staring at the muscles of his back move as he shoves clothes in a dryer. Sam should be the one person who was aware I wasn’t a slut. Usually virgins aren’t considered sluts.
I too toss wet clothes into a dryer while my mind churns in confusion. If he knew I wasn’t a lying, slutty bitch, why all the condescending glares over the past years? Why so much silent hate? I slam the door of the dryer.
Maybe because you came between him and his twin brother, Peyton?
The thought hits me like a bolt of lightning. Like Sam, I’ve been regarding what happened through how it affected me. I’m not entirely dense. I was aware to a certain degree that night pitted brother against brother—but I never considered how it might have torn two brothers apart who’d once been inseparable. Maybe the rift had even sent Sam to a different college. Instead, I imagined him hating me because his brother did. Not because of what happened afterward or how it changed his life.
The past, the fallout, my hurt, everything suddenly shifts, and the laundry room feels like it’s on a tilt as I push my cart back to another washer that just finished its spin cycle. Though I hadn’t been a lying, slutty bitch, I may have been a bit self-centered. Or maybe a whole hell of a lot. Less than an hour ago, I wanted to confront the past head-on. Now scared that night might have ruined Sam and Seth’s relationship, I’m thinking Screw that. At the same time, I’ve learned that denial just prolongs things, makes them fester. I don’t want to be a coward any longer.
I open a washer as Sam moves to the machine next to it. “So you and Seth are still close, right?” I ask.
The tumble of clothes in the dryers becomes loud. I clench the wet clothes in my hands when I glance at him. As I take in the bleakness of his gaze and the tightening around his mouth, which convey complete sadness, the wet clothes drop to the floor. “Sam?”