Author: Michelle

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1

“So,” Nicholas Duffy drawled as he and his girlfriend walked leisurely along the cliffs overlooking the river. When he picked her up for their date that night, she told him she needed to talk to him. “What do you want to talk about?”

Seventeen-year-old Peyton Kendall took a deep breath and closed her blue eyes. It had been coming for a long time, but now that the time had arrived, part of her was chickening out. But she pushed those feelings away. “Not here, Nick. Please.”

“Why not here?” he asked. “This is your favorite place. Why can’t we talk here?” ‘This is it. Peyton’s gonna tell me she’s finally ready. After all these years of waiting, we’re going to do it.’

“Because I can’t tell you here.”

Nicholas was losing his patience. After nearly two years together, he tired of her games. “Just get on with it, Peyton. Tell me whatever it is you have to tell me.”

She looked away as she gathered the strength to get the words out. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking. Things haven’t been right between us for a long time. Maybe we’d be happier if we were each with someone else. No, I *know* we’d be happier.”

He narrowed his dark eyes into paper-thin slits. “So that’s it. You dump me out of the clear blue sky without so much as an explanation? I want one and right the hell now!”

“I’m just not happy anymore. You’re different; Nick, you aren’t the same guy I started going out with two years ago,” Peyton tried to explain. One thing she didn’t want to do was hurt his feelings any more than she had to.

“What the hell does that mean?!” he exploded.

“It’s over, Nick. Just accept it,” she said. “I-I’m gonna walk home. Please don’t be angry with me.”

As his girlfriend turned to leave, Nicholas grabbed her wrist and yanked her back. She nearly lost her footing from the sudden jolt. One look in Nick’s eyes and she knew what was going to happen. His brown eyes radiated with fury from her rejection. Mentally, Peyton prepared herself for his wrath.

“Don’t be angry?” Nicholas sneered. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think, Peyton? Who put you up to this? Was it your bitch of a mother? Or was it your father? He always thought I wasn’t good enough for his precious little princess.”

She shook her head, trying to ignore the pain in her wrist from his grip. She didn’t even try to release herself from him; he would only make it hurt more. “My parents had nothing to do with my decision.”

“Really? Well then, I guess that leaves one more possibility. Another guy. Who is it? Eric MacNeill, right? He’s been sniffing after you for years. Are you giving him what you’ve been denying me?” he accused with an angry shout.

“No! I never cheated on you.”

“Liar!” With his free hand, Nicholas slapped her across the face. Peyton’s head snapped to the side from the force. Tears welled in her eyes, but Nicholas chose not to pay attention to them. “Oh sure, bring out the crocodile tears, you little slut. Go ahead, they don’t make a bit of difference to me. I can easily ignore them. You may come off pure and innocent, Peyton Kendall, but I see past that to the real you. A vindictive, lying whore!”

As much as she wanted to ignore his hurtful words, she found herself unable to do so. The tears fell down her cheeks like raindrops on a window. “Stop it,” she pleaded.

“Stop what? Speaking the truth?” He gripped her upper arms and shook her violently like a rag doll. “Calling it like I see it? What’s the matter, Peyton? Does the truth hurt?”

“You’re hurting me!”

“I haven’t even begun hurting you yet.”

“You want to know why I’m breaking up with you?” she questioned rhetorically. “Because of this! Because of the way you treat me. Belittling me, hitting me, treating me like I’m garbage...I won’t be a part of it anymore. So whatever you’re going to do to me, just do it. Throw me off the cliff, I don’t care. Death would be a welcome relief from the two years of torture you have put me through.”

Nicholas smirked at her. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? I kill you and then spend the rest of my life behind bars while you’re made out to be the innocent victim. Not gonna happen, Peyton.” He shoved her backward, causing her to fall to the ground. “It’s not over. *We’re* not over until I say so.”

Watching him leave, she sighed with relief as she ran her hands through her long chestnut hair. “We are over. For good. I’m finished being your victim, Nicholas.”

***

The sound of the front door being opened and closed caused Helene Kendall to look up from the newspaper article she was reading. She knew it was her daughter; at eleven o’clock, Peyton was half an hour past her curfew. That rarely ever happened, which concerned Mrs. Kendall.

“Honey?” she called.

Peyton stopped before she set foot on the bottom step of the staircase. She had been hoping to make a quick getaway to her bedroom before her mother or father saw her; she did not want them seeing her when she looked the way she did. “Yeah, Mom, it’s me. I’m gonna go right to bed, I’m really tired.” ‘Please let me go without a hassle.’

Mrs. Kendall got out of the armchair she’d been sitting in and made her way to the front hall. “You’re a half-hour late for curfew. Care to explain?”

“Not particularly.”

“Peyton, something could have happened–” She then saw the red mark on her daughter’s cheek and the imprint of fingers on her wrist. It was beginning to turn black and blue. “What did that jerk do to you now?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s hard not to worry about it when he’s treating you like this and doing these things to you. Sweetie, you can do so much better than Nicholas Duffy.”

“I know that.”

“Then why do you stay with him and continue to let him hit you? You are a bright, beautiful girl; you don’t deserve to be treated like this,” her mother told her.

Peyton sighed. She’d lost track of how many times her mother had given her that same speech. “I broke up with Nick tonight. That’s *why* he hit me. But I’m fine, Mom. It’s just a slap and a couple black and blue marks on my arm, nothing serious. I’ve been hurt worse than this before.”

“You broke up with him?” Mrs. Kendall asked, amazed that her daughter finally ended her relationship with her abusive boyfriend.

“Yeah. I just...I was miserable all the time; he didn’t make me happy anymore. Not to mention the hitting and other stuff he did to me. You’re right, I do deserve better.”

“I am glad you finally realized it.” She paused, trying to find the right words to say what she wanted to say. “Look, I know how you’re going to react, but I have to suggest it anyway.”

The teenager rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what her mother was getting at. “Mom–”

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me, Peyton Elizabeth Kendall. You need to report him to the police. Get a restraining order against him; keep Nicholas as far away from you as possible.”

“It’s over. Can’t I just let the past stay in the past?” she asked. “Nick and I broke up; he didn’t pitch me over the cliff when I broke it off, so I consider myself pretty damn lucky to get off with only a couple black and blue marks. Can’t I forget about it and move on?”

“Cliff?” her mother repeated, utterly horrified. “You broke up with him in the woods? Peyton, I thought you had more sense than that. He could have killed you! Dumped your body in the middle of those woods or into the river where no one would’ve found you for months!”

“It wasn’t my choice to go there, Mom. Believe me, I tried to convince Nick to go somewhere else but he wouldn’t. I don’t know what he thought was going to happen when I said we needed to talk...it doesn’t matter now. After he was finished venting his anger he left me there to walk home. That’s why I’m late.”

Mrs. Kendall hugged her daughter, careful not to put too much pressure on her tender bruises. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, and I’m glad you’re okay. But at least it’s over. For good. Right?”

“You can bet on it. No way I’m going back to him ever again.”

Her mother smiled. She couldn’t be happier now that Peyton had her abusive boyfriend out of her life. “You’re going to meet someone wonderful one of these days and he’ll sweep you off your feet. And you’ll wonder why you wasted so much time with Nick.”

Peyton shook her head, looking her mother in the eye. “Not gonna happen, Mom. I’m through with men. I’m never dating ever again.”

***

2

Peyton was nearly late for school the next morning. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, mainly due to the constant nightmares that plagued her from the moment she closed her eyes. All she kept seeing was Nick’s angry face as he told her it wasn’t over between them. More than once she woke up in a cold sweat, fearing what lengths he would go to to keep her a part of his life.

The bruises on her upper arms and right wrist looked even worse than they had the night before. There was no way she could go to school and let everyone see them, and judge her because of them. Instead, she chose to wear a long-sleeved black blouse and her blue jeans. And just her luck, it turned out to be the warmest day the tiny northern California town had seen in months.

Five minutes before homeroom began, Peyton’s best friend Jessica Thomas danced her way to her locker. “Don’t you just love warm, sunny Spring days? I am officially starting my countdown to graduation.”

She shook her head and smiled at the dirty-blonde’s words. “You’re awfully chipper for someone who doesn’t normally wake up until noon.”

“What can I say? The promise of an eighty-degree day puts me in a good mood. Aren’t you thrilled to be able to wear something different from your usual jeans and sweatshirts, Peyton?” Jessica twirled around in her short purple skirt and white halter top. Then she got a look at what her best friend chose to wear to school. “Apparently you didn’t watch the Weather Channel last night.”

‘What I wouldn’t give to be wearing shorts and a t-shirt right now,’ thought Peyton. ‘I’m dying in this!’ “I was cold when I woke up this morning.”

But Jessica didn’t believe Peyton for a minute. She’d never been a good liar, and the way she wouldn’t make eye contact was a dead giveaway. “Nice try. What did the asshole do to you this time?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying to me.” Jessica grabbed Peyton’s arm and lifted her sleeve before the girl had a chance to react. What she saw horrified her – the worst black and blue mark she’d ever seen. “Now I see why you didn’t wear a short-sleeved blouse today.”

Peyton wrenched her arm away from her and covered the bruise with her sleeve before anyone else could see it. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Really? Because it looks as if it hurts like hell.”

“I’m fine.”

Jessica sighed heavily. She was sick of seeing her like this. “When are you going to come to your senses and dump his sorry ass? There are so many guys at school who would kill for the chance to go out with you. Any one of them would be better than Nick.”

“Jess, this is the last time. I promise.”

“That’s what you say every time Nick does this to you. And every time he does it again. What makes you think this time will be different?” she demanded.

“It’s over,” Peyton whispered.

She wasn’t sure if she’d heard correctly. “Come again?”

“I broke things off with Nick last night. Are you happy now? That’s why I have these bruises. He did his typical Jekyll/Hyde deal on me when I tried to leave. Slapped me around for a little while before leaving me alone in the woods at nine o’clock at night,” explained Peyton. “Real nice guy, huh?”

“He’s a loser. Always was and always will be. You can do so much better than him.”

Peyton nodded in agreement. “I know. I’m just sorry it took me so long to realize it. But things are gonna be different from now on,” she swore.

“Damn straight. I am going to find you the perfect guy right here at James Madison High.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” The brunette shut her locker, holding her books close to her body as the two of them headed for their first class. “I’ve sworn off men for the rest of my natural life.”

“You can’t do that!” Jessica exclaimed. “I am not letting my best friend be miserable and alone because she dated a complete jerk for two years. My life’s mission has become finding you Mr. Right.”

Rolling her eyes, Peyton smiled. “I thought your life’s mission was to become a doctor and marry Freddie Prinze Jr.”

“Unfortunately, Freddie got married last September, remember? And I do plan on being a doctor, but this is more important at the moment. Your perfect guy is out there and I *will* find him.”

“I already told you–”

Jessica covered her ears. “I can’t hear you!”

“Whatever,” she laughed.

She glanced around at the students they passed on the way to class. Each boy that walked by Jessica gave consideration as a possible love match for her best friend. “Let’s see...James Piazza.” “Dating Melanie Guthrie,” Peyton informed her. “Plus, I don’t like him.”

“Okay. Patrick Garrison,” she suggested as the captain of the football team sauntered by them. “I know he’s single.”

“Um...no.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

Peyton shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t see myself having an intellectual conversation with him. Just give up, Jessica. My soulmate is not walking the halls of this high school.”

As they were walking into their homeroom, the true object of Jessica’s affection passed by in the opposite direction. “Oh, I’ve got it. Brandon Thurston.”

“I *so* don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“He’s a thug.”

Jessica frowned. “You’re not looking at the big picture, Peyton. He’s a rebel, you’re the good girl. Have you never seen Rebel Without A Cause? It’s like they say, opposites attract. Besides, look at his butt in those jeans!”

She laughed. “He’s your Mr. Right, Jessie. Not mine.”

***

“So, what’s on tonight’s agenda?” Charles Kendall asked his daughter that evening after dinner. “Going out with Jessica?”

Peyton shook her head. “No. I don’t feel much like going out tonight. I’m probably just gonna get on the computer and watch a movie.”

“Okay. Honey, I want to tell you how proud I am of you. It took a lot of courage to do what you did last night. Especially knowing what Nick Duffy is capable of,” her father commented.

“I know, Dad.”

Twenty minutes later Peyton sat in front of her computer. She was debating whether or not to enter the chat room. Jessica had told her about the chat room she often hung out in while online, but Peyton had her reservations. She had never gone into a chat room before, and didn’t know if she could trust anyone. There were too many horror stories out there.

‘Oh, who cares?’ she thought to herself. ‘It’s not like they’ll know who I am. I just won’t give out any personal information about myself.’

Pressing the ENTER key, Peyton found herself in the chat room. At first she didn’t know what to do; a myriad of conversations were going on around her. It was as if nobody had noticed she entered the room.

HELLO, she typed.

People continued to talk, her greeting disappearing from the screen not ten seconds later. Dejected, thinking no one was interested in talking to her, Peyton prepared to exit the room. But then someone replied to her.

HI, CAREBEAR, GBAILEY85 wrote.

Smiling, Peyton began to type. HI. I’VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE.

A VIRGIN, HUH? GBAILEY85 responded. THAT’S OKAY. I’VE ONLY DONE THIS A FEW TIMES MYSELF. I’M HARDLY AN EXPERT. WOULD YOU FEEL MORE COMFORTABLE IN A PRIVATE CHAT ROOM?

I GUESS.

CONSIDER IT DONE.

A few seconds later she found herself in an empty chat room. GBAILEY85 had moved them out of the public room and into a private one.

BETTER?

YES, she typed. I LIKE YOUR NAME. A FAN OF It’s A Wonderful Life?

LOL. HOW DID YOU KNOW?

YOUR SCREEN NAME. IT’S ONE OF MY FAVORITE MOVIES. EVERY TIME A BELL RINGS AN ANGEL GETS ITS WINGS. WHO DOESN’T LOVE THAT MOVIE?

MY SISTER, GBAILEY85 replied. SHE ABSOLUTELY HATES IT.

HER LOSS. ‘This isn’t so bad. I like this person,’ Peyton thought.

WHAT’S YOUR REAL NAME, CAREBEAR?

I WON’T GIVE OUT MY REAL NAME. SORRY.

OKAY. But GBAILEY85 was disappointed. YOU’RE A GIRL, RIGHT? MOST GUYS DON’T PICK CAREBEAR AS THEIR SCREEN NAME.

YOU’RE RIGHT, I’M A GIRL. YOU?

NOT A GIRL.

OH.

WHERE DO YOU LIVE?

CALIFORNIA.

REALLY? ME, TOO, GBAILEY85 said. I LIVE IN A SMALL TOWN NAMED SMITHFIELD.

Peyton sat in shock. She and her new chat buddy lived in the same town. What were the chances? DO YOU GO TO JAMES MADISON HIGH?

YEAH. HOW DID YOU KNOW?

I GO THERE, TOO. I’M FROM SMITHFIELD, CALIFORNIA. HOW STRANGE IS THAT?

DEFINITELY A COINCIDENCE. WHAT GRADE?

I’M A SENIOR.

SO AM I. MAYBE WE HAVE CLASSES TOGETHER.

MAYBE. Hearing her father calling for her, Peyton decided to get offline. I HAVE TO GO.

CAN WE TALK AGAIN? GBAILEY85 asked her.

She thought for a moment. Was it really such a good idea? ‘What the hell. I’m not hurting anyone.’ ARE YOU GOING TO BE ONLINE TOMORROW NIGHT?

I WILL BE NOW. SAME TIME, SAME PLACE?

SOUNDS GOOD.

She signed off her computer and did a little dance around her bedroom before making her way downstairs.

***

3

“You did what?!” Eric MacNeill cried out during lunch the next day. Peyton had just told him and Jessica about what she’d done the night before, chatting with GBAILEY85.

While Jessica rolled her hazel eyes, Peyton couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s reaction. It was exactly what she expected from Eric. “Look, it’s not a big deal. People strike up friendships over the internet all the time. Don’t have a cow, Eric.”

“You don’t get it. This guy could be anyone.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m running off to meet him right after school. Trust me, I don’t have any intention of doing that in the near future. He’s just a few friend.”

Eric couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The girl sitting across from him certainly wasn’t acting like the Peyton Kendall he knew and worshiped. “Sure, he’s a new friend. A new friend you’ve never met, don’t know from Adam and could be lying about who he is.”

“Okay, you are totally overreacting. I only talked to him for maybe ten minutes at most. And why would he lie about who he is? Why would *anyone* lie about being from Smithfield? It’s not exactly a booming city,” Peyton argued.

“Maybe he read it in your profile,” Eric suggested.

“I didn’t fill in the space that asked where I live.”

Sitting to Peyton’s left, Jessica silently ate her lunch and enjoyed the scene playing out around her. It wasn’t exactly a big secret that Eric had been harboring a crush on Peyton since elementary school. Whether the brunette was oblivious to his feelings or knew but chose to ignore them Jessica didn’t know. Whatever the case, she recognized the annoyed expression on her best friend’s face.

“Fine, whatever,” Eric said. “But do you realize he could be anyone at this school? *Anyone*, Peyton!”

“Eric, calm down,” chastised Jessica. “People are starting to stare at us.” If there was one thing Jessica hated, it was people staring at her.

“I really don’t care. This guy could be...well, anyone!”

Peyton swallowed the apple juice she’d taken a sip of. “Yeah, I believe you already mentioned that part.”

“Some geek in the Chess Club, member of the Student Council, linebacker for the football team or a hoodlum.”

Jessica twirled her shoulder-length blonde hair and smiled at the thought of Brandon Thurston. As soon as Eric mentioned the word hoodlum her mind drifted to him. “Mmm...hoodlum.”

The lone male at the lunch table groaned. He was used to Jessica’s obsession with the class rebel. “Can I state for the record that you’re not helping, Jess?”

“Sorry.”

Sighing, Peyton closed her eyes in exasperation. “I understand your concern. Really, I do. But I don’t care who he is, what he looks like or how he acts. As long as he can get my mind off of Nick and the breakup, I’m all for it.”

“I was never Nick’s biggest fan, we all know that,” Eric began. “But at least you knew him. I didn’t have to worry about him doing something awful to you.”

“Excuse me!?” Jessica exclaimed. “Nick hit her and treated Peyton like crap for years and now you’re defending him? Are you on crack?”

Peyton whirled on her best friend, not believing she’d just said that. Nobody aside from her parents and Jessica knew what Nick had done to her. She tried to keep it a closely guarded secret. The last thing she wanted was pity from strangers who passed her on the way to class.

Eric’s eyes widened upon hearing Jessica’s outburst. “What?” He turned his attention toward Peyton. “He hit you?”

“Eric, it’s not important.”

“On the contrary, I think it is. How could you not tell me? How could I not have seen? When did it start?” he asked.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to go postal like you’re doing now. It’s not a big deal anymore. I broke up with Nick; he’ll never hurt me again.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Damn straight he won’t. I’m gonna kill him before he ever gets the chance.”

“No! See, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d react like this. It’s over, so please don’t start anything with him,” she begged.

The bell rang and the three stood up to leave. “I’m not promising anything. I just wish you could’ve trusted me enough to tell me sooner. But apparently you don’t trust me the way I trust you.” Throwing the rest of his lunch in the garbage can, Eric stormed out of the cafeteria.

Jessica bit her lip. She felt totally responsible for what had happened between her two friends. “I’m sorry, Peyton.”

“I hope so. Why did you say anything?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I wanted to get him off your back about Nick. Looks like it didn’t work.”

“No kidding.”

***

4

It was seven fifty-five when Peyton turned on her computer. She was anxious to begin chatting with her new online friend. All day long she had found herself wondering what GBAILEY85 looked like. Was he tall, dark and handsome? Blonde, brunette or redheaded? Was he smart; in the National Honor Society like she was? Did they have any classes together? For all she knew he sat next to her in Math class. Even though she was reluctant to give out information about herself, Peyton couldn’t stop herself from wondering about GBAILEY85.

After she logged onto the internet, she searched for the chat room she had been in the night before. When she finally managed to find it, Peyton signed in and waited for him to enter the room.

HEY THERE, GBAILEY85 greeted her when he entered a few minutes later. SORRY I’M LATE. FAMILY STUFF.

She smiled. THAT’S OKAY. ALTHOUGH I WAS STARTING TO WORRY YOU WEREN’T GONNA SHOW UP AT ALL.

AND STAND YOU UP? NOT A CHANCE.

Her blue eyes wide, Peyton’s jaw dropped. He was flirting with her! It had been so long since anyone had done that. And it felt nice, she had to admit. WELL, I APPRECIATE THAT. DO YOU WANT TO DO THE PRIVATE CHAT THING AGAIN? she asked him.

SURE, GBAILEY85 responded.

Just as he had the night before, GBAILEY85 moved the two of them into a private chat room. He was glad CAREBEAR had suggested it; he had been too nervous to bring it up himself. Which was a feeling he rarely ever encountered. DONE.

COOL. THANKS. ONE OF THESE DAYS I WILL FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO THAT MYSELF.

DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT, CAREBEAR, he told her. HOW WAS YOUR DAY?

Even though she knew he couldn’t see her, Peyton shrugged her shoulders. IT WAS OKAY. NOT ONE OF MY BEST DAYS, THAT’S FOR SURE. I GOT INTO AN ARGUMENT WITH ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS TODAY.

REALLY? WHAT HAPPENED?

NOTHING BIG. IT WAS OVER MY EX-BOYFRIEND. HE’S MAD AT ME FOR KEEPING A BIG SECRET FROM HIM.

HOW BIG, IF YOU DON’T MIND ME ASKING? her new online friend asked her.

BIG ENOUGH, she replied. She didn’t want to get into the sordid details of her failed relationship with Nick Duffy. At least not yet. HOW WAS YOUR DAY?

IT WASN’T ONE OF MY BEST DAYS EITHER, he wrote. LIKE I SAID BEFORE, I HAVE FAMILY ISSUES.

WHAT KIND OF FAMILY ISSUES? IS EVERYTHING OKAY? she asked him.

NOTHING OUT OF THE ORDINARY FOR ME. MY DAD DOESN’T GET IT. HE NEVER GETS IT.

Peyton was intrigued. So life wasn’t perfect for her new friend either. Suddenly she didn’t feel so sorry for herself. HE NEVER GETS WHAT?

ME.

WHY NOT?

DAD AND I ARE TWO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PEOPLE. THERE’S A LOT OF THINGS WE DON’T’ SEE EYE-TO-EYE ON. HE WANTS ME TO BE SOMEONE THAT I’M NOT.

LIKE WHO? she wanted to know.

MY BROTHER. THE SUN RISES AND SETS ON MY OLDER BROTHER AS FAR AS MY FATHER IS CONCERNED. I’M THE PRODIGAL SON IN HIS EYES.

I’M SORRY, Peyton apologized.

IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT. AFTER EIGHTEEN YEARS I AM PRETTY WELL USED TO IT. BUT IT’S NICE TO HAVE SOMEONE TO TALK TO. EVERY TIME I TRY TO TELL MY SISTER OR COMPLAIN TO HER ABOUT IT SHE CALLS ME A WHINER AND TELLS ME TO GET OVER IT.

SOUNDS LIKE YOUR SISTER DOESN’T UNDERSTAND.

In his bedroom, GBAILEY85 flipped through the pages of his yearbook from the year before. He was trying to see if he could figure out who CAREBEAR was. But so far, no luck. SHE DOESN’T. SHE’S ALWAYS BEEN DADDY’S LITTLE PRINCESS. SHE CAN DO NO WRONG. LIKE I SAID, I’M USED TO IT. NOTHING NEW AND EXCITING.

Peyton’s heart went out to him. From the way he described it, he had it pretty rough at home. I WISH THERE WAS SOMETHING I COULD DO TO HELP YOU.

THANKS, YOU’VE DONE ENOUGH, CAREBEAR, GBAILEY85 wrote. IT’S NICE HAVING SOMEONE TO TALK TO.

IF YOU NEED ME, I’M HERE FOR YOU.

DO YOU MIND ME ASKING WHAT HAPPENED WITH YOUR EX-BOYFRIEND? YOU MENTIONED A SECRET. When he didn’t get a reply from her right away, he realized he might have overstepped his bounds. NEVER MIND, YOU DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER ME IF YOU DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

And Peyton debated it. Part of her wanted desperately to tell someone aside from her family and Jessica. It might relive some of the stress she felt about the whole situation. On the other hand, she feared what he might think of her. Would he think less of her knowing how she let Nick treat her? Then she decided to simply take her chances.

DO YOU PROMISE NOT TO TELL ANYONE? she asked.

WHO AM I GOING TO TELL?

‘Good point,’ she thought. ALL RIGHT. I BROKE UP WITH MY BOYFRIEND THE OTHER DAY. AND WHEN I DID, HE HIT ME. A FEW TIMES, ACTUALLY.

He didn’t know what to say. Though he did not know the whole story, he felt as if he did. And he’d heard enough. IT WASN’T THE FIRST TIME HE DID THIS, WAS IT?

NOT EXACTLY.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN? YES OR NO, DID HE HIT YOU BEFORE THIS?

Peyton sighed heavily. She thought it might be easier if she told an almost complete stranger, but it seemed to be harder. YES.

ARE YOU OKAY? I SHOULD HAVE ASKED YOU THAT FIRST.

YEAH, I’M FINE. NOTHING’S BROKEN. THANKS FOR CARING. MY FRIEND NEVER EVEN BOTHERED TO ASK ME THAT.

DOESN’T MAKE HIM A VERY GOOD FRIEND.

HE IS A VERY GOOD FRIEND. HE WAS JUST UPSET BECAUSE I NEVER TOLD HIM ABOUT IT, she explained.

In his bedroom, GBAILEY85 shook his head. He didn’t care how good a friend or how upset her friend was, his reaction was uncalled for. HOW LONG HAD IT BEEN GOING ON?

A LONG TIME. I DIDN’T EXACTLY KEEP TRACK OF THE BEATINGS, SORRY. IF ANYTHING, I TRIED TO FORGET THEM.

WHAT DID YOUR PARENTS SAY ABOUT IT? ONE WOULD HOPE THEY WERE ANGRY AT YOUR EX.

THEY WERE. STILL ARE. MY DAD WANTS TO KILL HIM. MY MOM TRIED FOREVER TO GET ME TO BREAK UP WITH HIM. BUT I NEVER LISTENED TO HER.

WHY NOT? WHY DID YOU STAY WITH HIM FOR SO LONG IF HE KEPT HITTING YOU?

She shrugged again. I DON’T KNOW. I GUESS I THOUGHT THAT WAS IT FOR ME; THAT HE WAS THE ONLY MAN WHO’D EVER LOVE ME. IF THAT’S TRUE, SO BE IT. I DON’T NEED A MAN ANYMORE. I’VE GOT MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY.

AND ME, GBAILEY85 added.

YEAH. I’VE GOT YOU, TOO.

I WISH YOU’D TELL ME WHO HE IS SO I CAN HAVE HIM KILLED. OR WHO YOU ARE SO I CAN HELP YOU SOMEHOW.

I’M NOT READY FOR THAT. AT LEAST NOT YET. MAYBE SOMEDAY, BUT NOT NOW. I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND.

SURE I DO. I’M HERE, THOUGH, IF YOU NEED ME. EVEN JUST TO LISTEN. OR READ, AS THE CASE MAY BE.

I APPRECIATE THAT. I REALLY DO. MORE THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY KNOW, she told him.

They talked for another hour before Peyton had to say goodbye. When she fell asleep, she dreamt of the nameless, faceless classmate who befriended her. And listened without judging. Something inside of her heart stirred when she thought about him, but she couldn’t describe it. All she knew was that she liked the feeling.

***

5

The two of them didn’t speak again for three more days. Peyton wasn’t able to log onto the internet because she had a project to work on for her Creative Writing class. Although she wanted to talk to GBAILEY85, she just couldn’t; the project had taken up too much of her time. She hoped he didn’t think she was avoiding him.

On Friday afternoon Peyton had to stay after school to finish her project. It had been a long week, between breaking up with Nick, getting to know her new online friend and her fight with Eric. She couldn’t wait for the weekend so she could relax. And she prayed that this one would be less stressful than the last.

At three-fifteen she stood in front of her locker, pulling out the books she needed for the weekend. When she shut the door, Peyton was shocked to find her ex-boyfriend standing next to her locker.

“Nick!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Nick narrowed his dark eyes at her less-than-friendly greeting. “I came by to talk to you. I gave a lot of thought to your decision and I wanted to let you know that I’m willing to give you another chance.”

“You’re willing?” Peyton repeated, cocking an eyebrow upward. “I’m not asking for another chance. We’re over, Nick. Deal with it.”

Angry at her rejection, he grabbed her upper arms and backed her into the row of lockers. Her head connected with the metal, causing her to see stars. “I will *not* just deal with it. You belong to me, Peyton. When are you going to realize that?”

Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. But she didn’t want him to see how much he was frightening her; she was determined to stand her ground. “I don’t belong to anyone. I’m no one’s property. Especially not yours.”

“No!” He squeezed her arms with all his might, enjoying the expression of pain spreading across her pretty features. He wanted to hurt her like she’d made him hurt. “You’re mine. You’ll always belong to me, I don’t care what you say.”

“You’re hurting me.”

Pulling her toward him Nick immediately pushed her against the lockers once again, only harder this time. He snickered when her books fell out of her hands and onto the ground. “Does that hurt? Too damn bad.”

“Why are you doing this? Why do you want to hurt me so bad?” she questioned. “I’ve never done anything to you.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit and you know it. I am going to make you pay for what you did to me,” threatened Nick.

Her eyes widened into saucers. “What I did to you? Excuse me, but who’s the one with all the bruises? Who was sliced with a steak knife? Who had to wear jeans and sweatshirts last July because her arms were covered in black and blue marks? Certainly not you! Now let me go and leave me alone!”

“I’m not through with you yet.”

“You heard her,” a voice from behind Nick stated. “Let go of her and leave the school right now.”

Releasing her arms from his tight grip, he turned around. He found Brandon Thurston standing directly behind him. “This isn’t any of your business, Thurston. *You* leave.”

“Do you want me to hurt you? Because I won’t hesitate. I suggest you leave the girl alone before I get angry. And trust me when I say you don’t want to make me angry. Are we clear?” Brandon asked.

Nick glared at his ex-girlfriend, who hadn’t moved since their classmate arrived. She was in total shock. “We’re not finished, Peyton.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Who are you? Her bodyguard?” Nick demanded.

“As of this moment, I am.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t attempt to argue. Brandon Thurston – with his black leather jacket and thug-like demeanor – gave him the creeps. Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. “I’ll see you soon, sweetie.” Shooting Brandon a dirty look, Nick took off down the hall.

Once the boy had turned the corner toward the exit, Brandon bent down to help Peyton pick up her fallen books. “Are you okay?”

She nodded her head, unable to make eye contact with him. The whole situation was embarrassing. “Uh-huh. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not. He could have done something to you.”

“Nick’s not like that.”

Going on a hunch, Brandon rolled up the sleeves of her baggy gray sweatshirt, revealing the bruises forming on her arms from where Nick grabbed her, as well as the healing bruises from Sunday night. “I tend to disagree. Those look like some nasty bruises.”

She pulled her sleeves back down. “They look worse than they really are.”

“He’s done this before, hasn’t he?” He tried to look Peyton in the eye but she avoided his gaze.

“No,” she lied.

They stood up, and Brandon handed her the books he’d scooped up. Their eyes finally met; he found himself looking into the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen. His hardened heart began to melt as he lost himself in them. Something about Peyton called out to him; he felt an urge to protect her from any harm that might come her way.

“Do you need a ride home?” he asked her. “I’ve got an extra helmet in my locker.”

“Thank you, but no thank you. I-I have my car; it’s in the parking lot.”

“All right. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Peyton groaned. “Yes! God, I wish people would stop asking me that. I’m perfectly fine. Just do me a favor and do not mention this to anyone. Please.”

“Fine, I won’t say a word. But if you need anything–”

“I won’t.” Without another word she walked away.

***

“Brandon Thurston came to your rescue?” Jessica asked as she and Peyton talked on the phone after dinner. “Do you have any idea how much I would love to have been in your shoes?”

“You wanted Nick to pin you up against the lockers and leave you with enough bruises to warrant another week’s worth of sweatshirts? Feel free,” Peyton replied sarcastically.

Jessica sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just tell me Brandon pounded him into the ground like a piece of fresh meat and I’ll be a happy camper.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Jess. He only managed to scare Nick off. But it was nice to watch the little worm squirm.”

“Well, the important thing is that you’re okay. But, man, it bites that you had an encounter with Brandon and I wasn’t there to witness it. What did he say to you?”

“Not much. He asked if I was okay, basically threatened Nick and offered me a ride home on the back of his Harley.”

“And?” prodded Jessica.

Peyton laughed. She knew her best friend was living vicariously through her. “And nothing. I had my car, so I turned him down. Besides, I was way too embarrassed. He saw my bruises, Jessica. I think he knows about Nick hitting me.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“How is that a good thing? Maybe then he’ll notice you when you’re around me because he’ll be keeping an eye on me? Huh?”

“You know, I never thought it that way,” the blonde-haired girl mused. “Peyton, his father is the Mayor. Which means he has connections in the D.A.’s Office. If you filed charges against Nick, like you should do, Brandon could help make them stick.”

She shook her head. “I’ve already been over this with my parents. I am not pressing charges. End of story.”

“Now you have a witness! Besides, you know he’s not going to leave you alone until he gets what he wants from you.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Hey, maybe you should get Brandon to be your bodyguard,” she suggested. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Peyton smiled. “You’re awful.”

***

6

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE? GBAILEY85 asked Peyton Sunday evening not long after they began chatting.

She bit her lip at his question. It was a stumper; there was no way she would be able to give him a definite answer either way. I DON’T KNOW. I GUESS I THOUGHT I WAS, BUT I WAS WRONG.

YOUR EX-BOYFRIEND?

YEP, she wrote. HE IS PROOF YOU REALLY DON’T KNOW A PERSON UNTIL YOU DATE THEM. AND BY THAT TIME IT’S TOO LATE.

He didn’t want to pry, but he wanted to know why things went wrong between her and her ex-boyfriend. Although he didn’t want CAREBEAR to think he was being nosy. IS IT BECAUSE HE HIT YOU?

AMONG OTHER THINGS. I HAD A RUN-IN WITH HIM THE OTHER DAY AND IT WASN’T PRETTY, LET ME TELL YOU.

WHAT KIND OF RUN-IN?

HE WAS BEING AN ASS. W E GOT INTO AN ARGUMENT AND HE PROBABLY WOULD HAVE HIT ME IF...WELL, NEVER MIND. IT ISN’T IMPORTANT ANYMORE.

IF WHAT? he wanted to know.

Peyton was tempted to tell GBAILEY85 that she’d been saved by the most unlikely of people, but she stopped herself. She didn’t want him to think she was unable to take care of herself. NOTHING. ANYWAY, HE DECIDED HE’D GIVE ME A SECOND CHANCE. THAT WAS A LAUGH IN AND OF ITSELF.

He laughed at what she’d written. CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG, BUT DIDN’T *YOU* BREAK UP WITH *HIM*?

OH, I DID, BUT THAT DOESN’T REALLY MATTER TO HIM. AS FAR AS HE’S CONCERNED I’M STILL HIS PROPERTY. I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I’M NOBODY’S PROPERTY!

I NEVER SAID YOU WERE, GBAILEY85 responded. He could sense her agitation through the computer screen.

She sighed. The last thing she set out to do was take out her frustrations on GBAILEY85. SORRY, I’M JUST MAD. HE DOESN’T GET THAT I WANT NOTHING MORE TO DO WITH HIM. LETTING GO ISN’T ONE OF HIS STRONG SUITS.

I WISH I KNEW WHO HE WAS. I’D LIKE TO BEAT HIS ASS IN. ‘I’d make the guy wish he’d never been born,’ he thought.

Peyton shook her head. She wanted to tell her new friend who she was, but she didn’t feel ready yet. HE’S NOT WORTH IT, GBAILEY85. I’M HOPING HE’LL GET OVER IT SOON AND FIXATE ON SOMEONE ELSE. Biting her lower lip, she decided to return to the beginning of the conversation. WHY DID YOU WANT TO KNOW IF I’D EVER BEEN IN LOVE?

BECAUSE I THINK I AM.

Jealousy tugged gently at Peyton’s heart. It almost pained her to think of her new friend falling in love with someone while her love life lay in shambles. THAT’S GREAT. BUT I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T SEEING ANYONE.

I’M NOT. I HAVEN’T HAD A GIRLFRIEND IN FOREVER. THIS WAS MORE LIKE LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. SOMETHING I’VE NEVER BELIEVED IN UNTIL NOW.

WHAT MADE YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND ABOUT IT? Peyton questioned him.

GBAILEY85 searched for the right words to describe his encounter. THERE WAS A GIRL AT SCHOOL LAST WEEK. I’VE PROBABLY PASSED HER IN THE HALLS A MILLION TIMES OVER THE LAST FOUR YEARS AND I NEVER REALLY SAW HER. BUT I LOOKED IN HER EYES FOR THE FIRST TIME AND SHE JUST STOLE MY HEART RIGHT THEN AND THERE.

WOW. SOUNDS AMAZING.

I THINK SO. WHAT DO YOU THINK I SHOULD DO? I MEAN, IF YOU WERE IN MY PLACE, WOULD YOU GO AFTER HER? SHOULD I TELL HER HOW I FEEL? DO THINK I’LL SCARE HER AWAY?

I DON’T KNOW HER, SO I COULDN’T GIVE YOU AN HONEST ANSWER. BUT I BELIEVE SHE’D BE VERY LUCKY TO HAVE YOU. YOU SEEM REALLY NICE AND CARING.

Her words touched his heart. He did want to tell her how he felt, regardless of the consequences. Bad timing be damned! NICE AND CARING? YOU’RE MAKING ME SOUND LIKE A DOG.

I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT, she apologized.

I’M ONLY TEASING.

GO FOR IT, TELL HER. AND IF SHE REJECTS YOU, THAT’S HER LOSS, NOT YOURS.

"You’re on that damn computer again?" his sister complained from the doorway of his bedroom. "You *so* need a life."

Turning around, he glared at his nineteen-year-old sister. "Don’t you ever knock before entering, Katie? I thought you learned your lesson the last time."

"Somehow I doubted I’d find you banging the housekeeper’s daughter again. Especially with Mom and Dad downstairs."

"Then what do you want?"

Katie Thurston clucked her tongue. "Aren’t we testy tonight, Brandon. Am I interrupting something important?"

Brandon rolled his eyes. His older sister didn’t seem to understand that he wanted to be left alone. "I’m talking to a friend. Do you mind?"

"A girlfriend?"

"She is a girl."

Katie glanced at the computer screen and chuckled. "CAREBEAR? What kind of name is that? How old is your new little friend? Ten? Eleven even?"

"My age. We go to school together."

"Anyone I know?" she asked, suddenly interested. "What’s her name?"

"I don’t know. She and I met in a chat room last week. We haven’t told each other our real names yet," Brandon told her.

His older sister made a face. "Probably a good thing, too. If this girl’s screen name is CAREBEAR, she’s guaranteed to be a big loser. Much like you, Brandon. So I guess it works out."

"You are such a bitch, Katie."

"Thank you."

As she was leaving the room, Brandon called out to her. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"When you were in National Honor Society last year, did you know Peyton Kendall?" he wanted to know.

"Unfortunately."

"You didn’t like her?" Brandon surmised.

Katie scowled. "You could say that. The girl’s a regular bitch; she challenged every suggestion I made for the charity event last year. Why do you ask?"

Brandon shrugged his shoulders. "Just wondering. Did you know her boyfriend?"

"Not personally, but everyone knew of her boyfriend. Nick Duffy was a psycho. If some guy so much as looked at his precious girlfriend he was all over him like a fly on shit. If you ask me, I’d say they were a perfect match."

"Do you think Nick ever hit Peyton?"

"I don’t know. I don’t particularly care, either." Letting the question sink in for a few moments, Katie nodded. "Yeah, I think he did hit her. There are always signs. Sweatshirts on hot days, sunglasses on cloudy days, stuff like that. I noticed that stuff with her."

Brandon nodded his head, recalling what Peyton had been wearing Friday afternoon. Jeans and a grey sweatshirt; it had been an eighty-five degree day. The pieces fell into place. "Thanks, Katie. You’ve been a big help."

"Sure, whatever. Have fun having cyber sex with your new little girlfriend."

"Shut up."

"You need a real girlfriend, Brandon. Maybe then you’ll stop doing it with a computer screen and give up diddling the help," Katie commented, leaving her brother’s bedroom.

Turning his attention to the computer screen, Brandon smiled. "I’m working on the girlfriend part, Katie," he whispered. "I’ve already found her. Peyton Kendall is going to find out that I’m the right man for her."

***

7

Brandon couldn’t get his mind off Peyton all weekend long. When he tried to fall asleep Sunday evening her face was all he could see when he closed his eyes. The terrified look on her pretty face haunted him. No other girl affected him the way Peyton Kendall had. He wanted to make her smile, hold her in his arms and tell her he’d protect her for the rest of his natural life.

He wanted to get to know her better; get her to trust him before springing his newfound feelings on her. Brandon didn’t want to scare her away, though. After all, they’d gone to school together for nearly twelve years, what did they really know about each other? He knew what his classmates thought of him, not that he particularly cared. But he wanted Peyton to see beyond that. First thing he needed to do was learn a little bit more about her.

His third class of the day Monday morning was Chemistry. His lab partner was Eric MacNeill, who he knew to be a close friend of Peyton’s. It would be the perfect opportunity to get some information about her.

"We need two milliliters of iodine," Eric said to Brandon.

He handed it to his lab partner. "Here." ‘Okay, it’s now or never. Just do it.’ "You’re pretty good friends with Peyton Kendall, aren’t you?"

Eric lifted an eyebrow at the question. Brandon had never made any previous attempts to strike up a conversation, so the question threw him for a loop. "Why do you want to know?" he demanded.

The abruptness of Eric’s response surprised the young raven-haired man. "I ran into her the other day after school and helped her out. What’s her story?"

"Her story? Why, are you trying to nail her like you have nearly every other girl in this school? Just back off."

Normally, comments like that didn’t bother Brandon, but this time was different. He was used to people making snide, untrue remarks about him; his fellow classmates didn’t know the real him and he didn’t necessarily want them to. Their opinions meant little or nothing to him. The only people whose opinions mattered were that of Peyton Kendall and CAREBEAR. "Have I done something to offend you? I just asked you a simple question and you bit my head off."

"Look, she’s been through enough lately. Not to mention she’s way out of your league, Brandon. I don’t care if your father is the Mayor or not, Peyton is too good for the likes of you. She’s pure and sweet and has been screwed over by the opposite sex far too many times to count." Eric wasn’t happy that his Harley-riding, leather jacket-wearing lab partner had his sights set on the girl of *his* dreams.

It dawned on Brandon at that moment – he had competition for the brunette’s affections. "Are you jealous that I might be interested?"

"Hardly," scoffed Eric. "I don’t want to see her hurt, that’s all. Peyton is one of my best friends."

"I don’t have any intention of hurting her. Although I would like to know a little more about her."

"You want details? Fine, I’ll give them to you," hissed Eric. "She dated a regular bastard for two years who basically treated her like crap. He hit her and verbally abused her. After what she went through with Nick Duffy, she’s stated that she’ll never date again. She dumped the bastard last week. Is that enough information for you?"

"She dumped him?" he questioned.

Eric narrowed his eyes. "What did you think? That he broke up with her? No man with half a brain would break up with her. Peyton is everything any sane man could possibly want."

‘I’m not gonna argue with that.’ "I didn’t know what happened."

"Well, now you do. So do everyone a favor and leave her alone. Give the poor girl time to get over this. One asshole in her life is enough, she doesn’t have room for another."

***

"You have a new admirer," Eric stated bitterly when he sat down at the lunch table two hours later. "I thought you’d like to know."

Peyton looked up from the homework she’d been working on. "What are you talking about, Eric?"

"I gotta say, I find it amazing," he began. "You’re not even single for a week and they’re already lined up to date you."

"Could you elaborate a little more, please?"

"I was in Chem Lab this morning and my lab partner started asking all sorts of questions about you, Peyton. He wanted to know – and I quote – your ‘story’."

She had to admit hearing it intrigued her. Who could possibly be asking questions about her? "Who is my secret admirer?"

"Brandon Thurston."

Jessica, who was seated to Peyton’s right, started choking on her ham and cheese sandwich. "Excuse me? Did you say Brandon Thurston?"

"The one and only. I think Peyton might have seen him around school once or twice. Wears jeans, t-shirts, leather jackets, looks like he just knocked over a liquor store," Eric commented.

"Hey!" Jessica exclaimed. "That’s my future husband you’re talking about. Watch it."

The sole male at the table laughed. "Maybe in your dreams. Looks like he’s got his sights set on our very own Peyton."

Peyton rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Somehow I highly doubt it."

"The what’s his deal? Why the sudden interest in everything Peyton Kendall-related?"

The girl frowned. She really didn’t want to tell Eric what had transpired Friday afternoon with Nick. Her friend would completely overreact if he found out, and Peyton didn’t want to deal with it. "He helped me out Friday afternoon. No big deal."

"What kind of help? Why didn’t you call me?" he wanted to know. It pained him to think Peyton would rather call the school bad boy for help instead of him.

She chewed on her lower lip, exchanging a side glance with Jessica. ‘I guess there’s no way out of it. Now comes the moment of truth.’ "Nick was giving me a hard time after school on Friday and Brandon...for lack of a better term, scared him off. Like I said, it wasn’t a big deal."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No! I already told you, Brandon helped me out. Maybe if he hadn’t been there Nick might have done something, but no. I’m fine." She recalled the look of concern on Brandon’s handsome face and the sympathy in his hazel eyes. Perhaps she’d been wrong about him all these years.

But Eric wasn’t convinced by her words. "I don’t know. It might be best if someone stayed with you at all times," he suggested.

Jessica laughed at his blatant attempt to spend more time with Peyton. She knew exactly what he was trying to do, but her best friend remained clueless. "Like a bodyguard? Are you offering your services?"

"Yes."

Peyton shook her head at them. "I don’t need a bodyguard. I need some time to pass so Nick can move on with his life and I can move on with mine."

***

After classes let out for the day, Peyton stood by her locker, waiting for Jessica to meet up with her. They were supposed to be going to Peyton’s house to study for the Economics test they had in the morning. As she waited, a shadow fell over her. Looking up, she was surprised by who she found standing to her left.

"Hello," Brandon greeted, an expressionless look upon his face. He was doing his level best at keeping his face devoid of emotion, but being around Peyton was making it difficult. All he wanted to do was grin from ear to ear. "I saw you and came over to see how you’re doing."

"I wish people would stop asking me that," Peyton said to him. "But if you really want to know, I’m doing fine. Great even."

Brandon looked at the shirt she wore – a simple, long-sleeved black blouse that would have covered any bruise she had on her arms. "Your bruises haven’t healed yet, have they?" He touched her arm.

She yanked her arm away. "I was cold this morning."

"Sure. Do you need a ride home? I’ve got an extra helmet if you’d like to ride home with me," he offered.

"On your motorcycle? No thanks. I have a ride home."

"Oh." He nodded in understanding. Part of him knew deep down that she just didn’t want to ride home with him. "Has your ex been bothering you at all today?"

"Nope. Haven’t seen him all day long and I’m hoping to keep it that way, too. I really am grateful for what you did Friday afternoon."

Brandon eyeballed her. "I thought you said nothing was going on between you two that day."

"Well, nothing was. It’s just...complicated."

"He hit you, didn’t he?" he asked her, deathly serious. "And then you broke up with him. Now he’s harassing you."

Her face turning completely pale, Peyton dropped the binder she’d been holding. She made no attempt to retrieve it. "H-How did you know?"

Bending down, Brandon picked up the fallen binder. The Carebear sticker on the bottom right corner caught his eyes. All of the pieces fell into place for him. He knew; Peyton was CAREBEAR. She had to be. "Your friend told me."

"Eric? I’m gonna kill him."

"You don’t know me, and that’s fine. But would you like to get some coffee or something tonight? I’d like to talk to you about this. Maybe I can help out somehow."

"I don’t think so. I-I have to go." Desperate to get away from Brandon’s prying eyes, Peyton took her binder and practically ran down the hall.

He watched her. "Talk to you later. CAREBEAR."

***

8

"Wanna go out tomorrow night?" Jessica asked her best friend later that evening. The two girls finished studying for their Economics test at seven o’clock, and at nine-thirty the blonde-haired girl called Peyton on the telephone.

Peyton cradled the cordless phone between her shoulder and ear so that she could use both hands to type. "I don’t think so. I’m not feeling much like partying. Sorry, Jess."

She sighed heavily. "You know, I hate to say this but you haven’t been acting like yourself lately. Ever since you broke up with Nick, you’ve becoming very...introverted, I guess. Like a recluse."

"No I haven’t."

"Yes, you have. And Eric has noticed it, too. It’s like all you ever do is get up, go to school, go back home, get on the computer and go to sleep," complained Jessica. "We want our fun-loving Peyton back."

The brunette laughed. "When was I ever fun-loving? You’ve always called me a stodgy stick-in-the-mud."

"That may be true, but at least you used to have *some* fun. Now you don’t have any. Come on, Peyton. Is it going to kill you to party with us for one night?"

"I’ll have to see how much homework I have tomorrow."

In her bedroom, Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "This is great. I’ll call Eric and give him the good news."

"Wait a second!" she exclaimed. "I never agreed to anything. Don’t put words in my mouth."

"We’re going to Holiday’s on Burch. You can come over here first and dress. I have the perfect outfit; you will look killer in it."

Peyton rolled her eyes at her best friend’s excitement. "Jess, don’t get too excited. I haven’t agreed to go anywhere yet."

"You will. You don’t know how to say no. I’ll talk to you in the morning and we’ll plan what we’ll do."

"Yeah yeah."

"Bye."

"Bye."

She hung up the phone and focused her attention back on the computer screen. Though she hated admitting it, Jessica was right; she’d become more reclusive since breaking up with Nick. SORRY ABOUT THAT, she typed.

NO PROBLEM, GBAILEY85 replied. IS EVERYTHING OKAY?

YEAH. MY BEST FRIEND CALLED ME, THAT’S ALL. SHE’S TRYING TO CONVINCE ME TO GO OUT WITH ONE OF OUR OTHER FRIENDS TOMORROW NIGHT. THEY’RE GOING TO HOLIDAY’S TO HANG OUT.

Brandon smiled at the computer. ‘This is good,’ he thought. ARE YOU GOING TO GO WITH THEM?

I DON’T KNOW. I HAVEN’T DECIDED YET. PART OF ME WANTS TO GO AND HAVE FUN WITH THEM. IT’S BEEN SO LONG. BUT ANOTHER PART OF ME THINKS I’M NOT READY TO THROW MYSELF OUT THERE. I ONLY BROKE UP WITH MY EX A WEEK-AND-A-HALF AGO.

WELL, WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS?

She scrunched her eyebrows together. MY PLANS? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

DO YOU WANT A NEW BOYFRIEND? WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR IN A BOYFRIEND? he asked her.

NOTHING. I DON’T WANT A NEW BOYFRIEND. NOT NOW, AND POSSIBLY NOT EVER. THE DATING THING HASN’T EXACTLY WORKED OUT FOR ME.

YOU’RE NEVER GONNA DATE AGAIN?

YOU GOT IT. I’M SWEARING OFF MEN FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. SOME PEOPLE ARE MEANT TO BE ALONE AND I GET THE FEELING I’M ONE OF THEM. I’LL BE PERFECTLY HAPPY LIVING ALONE AND DYING AN OLD LADY SURROUNDED BY MY CATS.

He couldn’t allow that. He needed to make her see that she had someone out there who wanted to be with her – him. CAREBEAR, YOU SHOULDN’T SWEAR OFF MEN, AND PLEASE DON’T JUDGE ALL OF US BY OUR WORST SPECIMEN. SOME OF US ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO TREAT THE WOMAN WE SAY WE LOVE.

I GUESS YOU’RE RIGHT.

I KNOW I AM. AND IN MY EXPERT OPINION – AS A CARD-CARRYING MALE – I THINK YOU SHOULD GO TOMORROW NIGHT. NO ONE SAID YOU HAD TO FIND YOURSELF A NEW BOYFRIEND. BUT YOU CAN’T TURN YOU BACK ON THE IDEA, EITHER. MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, YOUR SPECIAL SOMEONE WILL BE THERE.

YEAH, YOU HAVE A POINT. YOU’RE PROBABLY COMPLETELY WRONG, BUT YOU’VE GOT A POINT. LOOKS LIKE I’LL GO. THANKS FOR YOUR ADVICE.

ANYTIME. ‘And I, too, will be at Holiday’s. See you there, Peyton,’ Brandon said to himself.

***

Peyton stopped dead in her tracks when she and Jessica reached the main entrance of Holiday’s. During lunch that afternoon she took GBAILEY85's advice and told her best friend she’d go to the club with her. Now as they prepared to enter, she began to have doubts.

"I can’t do this," she stated.

Jessica rolled her eyes. "God, don’t be such a baby. It is not going to kill you to have fun for one night. Show Nick Duffy once and for all that you’re through with him. Find a hunk and attach yourself to his arm."

"I wasn’t actually talking about the dating part, but thanks for the vote of confidence. Jessie, there’s no way I can go in there wearing this outfit. People are going to see me!"

"That’s the whole point. They’re supposed to see you." She surveyed the outfit she chose for her best friend – a shimmering silver halter top, black leather pants and a pair of high-heeled sandals. "You look awesome, Peyton."

"I look like I should be charging by the hour."

She laughed at the comment. "No you don’t. I say if you’ve got it, flaunt it. And trust me, you’ve got it. Show the world your goodies."

"Show the world what? My breasts? My butt? The lovely bruises on my arms that have turned a hideous shade of olive green?" she questioned.

"They’re not as bad as you think they are. If I didn’t know they were there, I’d never notice the bruises. Now stop being so self-conscious and get your ass inside the club!"

Taking a deep breath, Peyton opened the door and stepped inside. The sounds of loud music blared all around her; people filed past her to make their way to the dance floor. She felt like everyone was staring at her as she and Jessica found an empty table to sit at. ‘Just breathe, Peyton. Who am I kidding? I can’t do this, I look like a total fraud. This isn’t me. Me is jeans and a sweatshirt, not hooker-wear for the local tramp.’

"Oh my god!" Jessica exclaimed. "Brandon Thurston is here! He never comes here."

Looking up, Peyton caught sight of him leaning against a wall in his trademark jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and ran his other one through his short, dark hair. "So go say hi to him."

"No way!"

"How are you ever going to get him to notice you if you’re too afraid to go anywhere near him? Just go over there and introduce yourself," she suggested.

"Nuh-huh, I can’t. There are too many girls around him. Maybe you can do it for me, seeing as you’re his new best friend."

"Please, Jess. I’m hardly his new best friend. Look, I am getting a soda. Do you want one?"

She shook her head. "No thanks. I’ve got plenty of drool."

"Fine. I’ll be back in a few minutes."

Peyton got up from her seat and headed for the bar to order her drink. She wasn’t more than ten feet away from the table when someone grabbed her arm and swung her around. "What the f-"

"What do you think you’re doing?" her ex-boyfriend demanded angrily.

Annoyed, she sighed. "Getting something to drink, Nick. Now please let me go, I’m thirsty."

"Why the hell are you dressed like that? You look like you’ve been walking the streets. Put on some clothes that actually cover your body," ordered Nick.

"What I wear is none of your business. If I want to dress like a hooker, I’ll do it. I don’t answer to you and you have absolutely no say in what outfit I choose to wear when I go out," Peyton shot.

"Wanna bet?"

She cocked an eyebrow upward at his veiled threat. "What are you going to do? Hit me in the middle of the club with at least a hundred witnesses? Get real. Now let go of me before I scream."

Across the room, Brandon glanced up from his coffee in time to see Nick Duffy grab Peyton. *His* Peyton. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking of her as his. Jealousy had burned its way throughout his body, as well as desire, the moment he laid eyes on her in her halter top and leather pants. He saw the looks other guys in the room were giving her. And his body reacted in ways he’d never imagined they would at the mere sight of her. He wanted to kill them all, then take Peyton back to his bedroom and make love to her until the sun came up. Imagining the feel of her silky skin against his, her tender lips kissing him, her long brown hair sprayed across his pillow suddenly made his pants feel entirely too tight around his groin.

Catching sight of the glimmer of fear in her eyes, he pushed himself away from the wall and past the girls surrounding him, then toward the former couple. He couldn’t have been more than two feet away when Nick dropped her arm and marched out of the club.

Hey," he said, tapping her on the shoulder. "Everything okay?"

Peyton jumped at his touch. When she saw who it was, she gave a slight smile. It warmed his heart. "Everything’s peachy. Thanks for asking."

"He didn’t hurt you, did he?" Brandon wanted to know.

She shook her head. "Nope. He was just being an ass."

"I see your bruises are healing. I’m glad. Peyton, I want you to know if you need anything, I’m here for you. You can call me anytime, even just to talk."

"I already told you, Brandon, I don’t need a bodyguard."

"I wasn’t talking about being your bodyguard. Just so you know, we’re not all like Nick Duffy. Most of us know how to treat the woman they claim to love," he said, hoping she would recall their online conversation from the night before.

"Thanks. Look, I’m thirsty. I’ll see you around."

‘When are you going to put two and two together, Peyton?’ he wondered. ‘I’m GBAILEY85. And I’d do anything for you. Anything to *be* with you.’

***

9

"Did you have a good time tonight, honey?" Mrs. Kendall asked her daughter when she heard the front door close at ten o’clock that evening.

Peyton walked into the living room where she found her parents sitting in front of the television, her mother doing a crossword puzzle and her father working on the layout for the next day’s edition of the newspaper. She said a silent thank you that she’d been smart enough to change back into her jeans before entering the house. Her parents would have had a coronary if they’d seen the outfit she’d worn at the club.

"It was okay. You know me, I’m not a big party girl," she said, taking a seat on the couch next to her father.

"Eric and Jessica were there with you, weren’t they?"

She nodded. "Yep, they were there to keep little old me company. And guess who else was there? Nick. Harassing me."

"I’m sorry," Mrs. Kendall apologized, feeling sorry that her daughter was having such a hard time with her ex-boyfriend.

Mr. Kendall sighed, taking off his glasses and placing them on the armrest of the couch. "Hasn’t he gotten it through his thick head that you don’t want anything to do with him? I mean, come on, you broke up with him for a reason."

"He just doesn’t get it. Nick’s been hanging around me a lot lately, cornering me and stuff like that. Nothing I can’t handle."

"You aren’t going anywhere alone with him, are you?"

"No! God no! Give me some credit for brains, Dad, I’m not that stupid. Besides, I’ve been kinda lucky. Every time Nick tries to start something, someone has always been around. He barely has a chance to give me a hard time."

Her father agreed. "You certainly have been very lucky. Nick is a big guy compared to you, Peyton. Amd you know what he’s capable of."

"I know. Thank god Brandon Thurston scares the crap out of him. It’s kinda nice to have an unofficial bodyguard who frightens half of the school."

"Brandon Thurston?" Charles Kendall raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "Richard Thurston’s son?"

"Yep. One in the same."

"The thug?"

"That’s the one. Although I’ve talked to him a few times and he’s really not that bad. Dad, I used to think the same thing because of the way he carries himself. Rides a Harley-Davidson, dresses in jeans and leather all the time. But he seemed genuinely concerned about me. He’s made a point on more than one occasion, between school and tonight at Holiday’s, to make sure I was all right and that Nick hadn’t hurt me."

Mrs. Kendall smiled knowingly. It sounded like her daughter had a possible suitor. "He certainly sounds like a nice boy."

"So far. I don’t know him all that well, though."

"Maybe he likes you, Peyton," her mother remarked suggestively.

Peyton rolled her eyes, knowing what her mother was getting at. "Yeah, right. The last thing I want is a new boyfriend. No, scratch that, I do want a boyfriend, but I want a guy like you, Dad. You’re my perfect guy, in a purely non-disgusting sort of way."

He grinned at his seventeen-year-old daughter. "Too bad I’m already taken. But you’ll find someone. Just because you scraped the bottom of the barrel with Nick Duffy doesn’t mean you should give up on all of us. Don’t judge all men based on one of our worst specimens."

His words struck a cord in her. GBAILEY85 had said almost the exact same thing to her the night before. She took it as a sign. "You’re right, Dad. There’s a perfect guy out there for me somewhere. I just have to find him."

"That’s quite a turnaround," Mr. Kendall said to his wife after Peyton left the room a minute later. "Wonder what I said that changed her mind."

"Her perfect guy said the perfect thing at the perfect time."

***

Katie glared at her younger brother when he came home at quarter after ten. It wasn’t like Brandon to go out at night. On school nights he usually holed himself up in his bedroom and either did his homework or chatted on the internet. She wondered what made him venture out of his room for the evening.

"And where were you all night? You took off right after dinner," she commented as she followed him up the stairs toward his bedroom.

"When did you become my keeper?" he questioned, not bothering to turn around to face Katie.

"Maybe I’m concerned."

"Try nosy. It suits you better."

She smirked, enjoying their banter. Annoying Brandon was one of the few joys she found at home. "I’m your sister, I have every right to be nosy. Now, are you going to tell me or do I have to drag it out of you with threats and blackmail?"

Brandon groaned. His older sister had too much to blackmail him with to deny her what she wanted to know. "I went to Holiday’s. Do you have a problem with that?"

"You? At a club with other people? Did you actually actually socialize with people your own age?" she asked incredulously.

"Go to hell."

"Or did you meet a girl there? Another one of your fuck-and-runs, perhaps?"

Brandon spun around, wanting to slap his sister for insinuating such a thing. He knew Peyton wasn’t that type of girl. No, she was pure; too pure for him. "Don’t you *ever* say that to me again."

She noticed a distinct change in his demeanor. His tone of voice became defensive. "Oh, I get it."

"Get what?"

"You. You never go out, now all of a sudden you’re hanging out at Holiday’s. And you’re awfully defensive about your sex life. My baby brother’s got it bad for some girl."

"Go away," he ordered when he reached his bedroom.

But Katie wasn’t done yet. "Who is she? I wanna know the name of the poor, clueless girl who’s giving you a hard-on now."

Instead of an answer, all she got was a door slammed in her face.

Brandon immediately turned on his computer and logged into his email account. He found one message waiting for him. From CAREBEAR.

DO YOU WANT TO MEET?

***

10

"Are you out of your mind?" Eric practically shouted Wednesday afternoon during lunch. Peyton had just told him and Jessica about the email she sent to GBAILEY85, expressing her desire to meet him.

"What are you flipping out about, Eric?" she asked him.

He gaped at her. "You must be crazy or something. Are you aware of what you’ve done? Peyton, you asked out a perfect stranger!"

Peyton shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t see the big deal. "He’s not a perfect stranger. I’ve been talking to him online for over a week. It’s not like I don’t know him. He goes to school with us."

"You wouldn’t know him if you tripped over him. And really, a week? Gee, you two must be like old friends by now," Eric commented sarcastically.

"What is your problem? We’re just going out for a cup of coffee Friday night. It’s not like we’re running off to get married or something stupid like that."

She recalled opening the reply from GBAILEY85 less than half an hour after she’d sent the original message. He had written I’D LOVE TO MEET. JUST LET ME KNOW WHEN AND WHERE AND I’LL BE THERE. They decided to meet at the Café Americain on Seventh Avenue at seven o’clock Friday evening. Peyton had told him she would be wearing a red blouse and black jeans so that way he would be able to recognize her in the restaurant.

"I’m sorry, but I still think you’ve taken permanent leave of your senses."

"Then I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t ask your permission before I emailed him," she snidely remarked.

Jessica, as usual, was sick of hearing them argue. "Okay, guys, stop it. Please, before you start drawing blood. Eric, Peyton’s allowed to do whatever she wants. She’s a big girl. And, Peyton, I sort of agree with Eric on this one. This is definitely not the brightest move you’ve ever made."

"Thanks a lot."

"Well, think about it," Eric began. "You barely know this internet guy. How do you know if he’s telling you the truth about who he is? He could be lying about who he is to lure you out from behind your computer screen. This guy might be a rapist or a serial killer."

"Or worse. He could be Nick," Jessica added.

Peyton nearly burst out laughing at the mere thought. "I highly doubt it’s Nick.. He knows less about computers than anyone on the planet, including my seventy-five year old grandmother. Come on, he barely knows how to turn one on, much less find his way into a chat room and stalk me."

"He’s having too much fun doing that in public," scoffed Eric. "But that leaves the other two possibilities."

Peyton rolled her blue eyes. There were times when she despised her friend’s overprotective nature. "It’s not that I don’t appreciate your concern, Eric, but I can handle myself."

"Like you handled yourself when Nick was using you as his personal punching bag?" he shot.

"That was low," Jessica remarked.

"Look," Peyton started, "I’ll be fine. We’re meeting in a public place, not some seedy motel so he can have his way with me."

He still wasn’t appeased. "I don’t think you should go and meet him alone. You need someone there to protect you in case he turns out to be a freak."

She was sick and tired of everyone trying to protect her. Couldn’t they see she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself? "I don’t want, nor do I need, a bodyguard. Got it?"

***

"You know, Brandon, my birthday party is a week from Saturday," Evelyn Thurston reminded her youngest grandson. "I hope you haven’t forgotten about it."

Brandon smiled at his paternal grandmother. He’d always thought of her more as a mother than he did his own mother. The two of them had always been extremely close. "Like you would let me forget. You’ve mentioned it to me three times this week alone."

"And each time I bring it up you neglect to tell me if you will be bringing a young lady with you. Your brothers and sister are bringing dates."

Across the table from her brother, Katie smiled devilishly. "No dates for Brandon. Just Suzy Palm and her five sisters."

He kicked her in the shin underneath the table. "Go to hell, Katie."

"Kathryn Thurston, that was uncalled for," Evelyn chastised. "And, Brandon, watch your mouth. Now answer my question."

"No date yet," he sighed. "But there is someone I am thinking of asking. It all depends on whether or not she agrees to go with me."

"Are we talking about the girl you were stalking at Holiday’s?" Katie taunted. "Or is it your little internet girlfriend? The one you’ve never met."

Evelyn lifted her eyebrows. "Internet girlfriend? What am I missing here?"

"Brandon’s been having cyber sex with some computer geek he met in a chatroom," Katie informed her grandmother. "He can’t get any the old-fashioned way, so–"

"Katie, shut up!" Brandon yelled. "You don’t know anything about her."

She laughed. "Like you do?"

"I will Friday night when I meet her."

"Ooh, a date."

"Bite me."

"All right, that’s enough, you two. Brandon, you should invite this girl to my party. I’d love to meet her," Evelyn suggested.

Katie couldn’t resist making another comment. "He’d love to meet her, too. But I’m sure she’ll go running in the opposite direction when she realizes who he is."

"Now what’s that supposed to mean?" her brother demanded.

"Just that you have a reputation for being a hoodlum," she said. "You totally embrace it, admit it. Everyone’s afraid of you and you love it."

"Your brother is a good boy."

"With a bad reputation. Go on and deny it in front of Grandma, Brandon."

"Why waste my breath?" he responded.

Evelyn patted her grandson’s hand. "My little Brandon is misunderstood, that’s all. You must call me or come by again on Saturday to let me know how your date went."

"I can save you the trouble, Grandma," Katie sneered. "Crash and burn."

Brandon shot his sister a dirty look. "You’ll be the first person I tell. If all goes well, I’ll be bringing her with me to your birthday party." ‘And I will be walking into the house with the most beautiful girl in California on my arm.’

***

11

It was five minutes to seven on Friday night when Brandon pulled into the parking lot of the Café Americain on his Harley Davidson. He was early and he knew it. It gave him a few minutes to think about what to say to Peyton when he revealed himself. Assuming she didn’t run off in the opposite direction, he knew he couldn’t reveal his feelings for her right away. That would *definitely* send her running. No, he had to take it slow. For the first time in his life, he had to woo a girl. And given what Peyton had just gone through with her ex-boyfriend, it was going to be tough sledding.

Taking a deep breath, he took off his helmet, placed it on the bike and entered the tiny restaurant. It wasn’t someplace that many students from their high school frequented, and for that he was glad. He didn’t want an audience. There were only a handful of cars in the parking lot, so he felt secure in the knowledge that they would have some privacy.

"How many today?" the hostess asked him when he reached the PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED sign.

"I’m actually meeting someone. A girl wearing a red blouse and black jeans," he informed the blonde-haired girl.

‘Figures he’s taken,’ the hostess thought. "I just sat a girl a couple minutes ago. Is that her?" She pointed to a booth in the corner where Peyton Kendall sat, twirling her straw around her soda glass.

Brandon smiled. ‘I knew it!’ "That would be her. Thanks a lot."

Taking the menu the girl offered him, he made his way over to her table. His heart pounded like a freight train in his chest and butterflies floated around in the pit of his stomach. He never expected to be as nervous as he was. After all, he knew who she was; they’d had several face-to-face conversations over the past week in addition to the ones they’d shared online.

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "Peyton?" he said, his voice hoarse.

Peyton looked up, seeing Brandon Thurston standing directly in front of her. ‘Oh god, not now. Just my luck, someone I know shows up. Not that Brandon’s all that bad, but still...it’s embarrassing.’ "Hi, Brandon. Playing bodyguard tonight?"

"Not exactly. I’m off-duty tonight," he joked. "What are you doing here?" ‘Oh my lord, she looks good enough to eat,’ he said to himself. Peyton wore a pair of black jeans and a sleeveless red turtleneck that hugged her in all the right places. He couldn’t tell if she looked sexier at that moment or on Tuesday night when she’d worn the halter top and leather pants. Then he came to the conclusion it didn’t really matter; she always looked sexy to him regardless of what she wore.

"I’m supposed to be meeting someone tonight," she told him. "But he’s late."

"Anyone I know?"

Peyton shook her head. "I doubt it. Just a friend."

"He wouldn’t happen to be GBAILEY85, would he?"

Her blue eyes widened into saucers. "H-How did you know that?"

"Well, you’re CAREBEAR, aren’t you?"

"Are you..."

"Yep," he answered before she even finished asking the question. "I figured it was you when I saw you sitting back here in that red turtleneck." He paused, gauging her reaction. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Of course." She shook her head. "I can’t believe what an idiot I am. I’m so sorry."

Her statement perplexed him. "Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I wasn’t exactly being overly friendly back there. That’s not me. It’s just that...well, I wasn’t expecting you when I showed up," she admitted.

"Disappointed?" he teased.

"Not at all. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions, but I expected a computer geek or a Chess Club nerd to be him, definitely not you." Peyton frowned. "I guess you think I’m pretty shallow now."

"No. I’m a closet computer geek. And I may not be in the Chess Club, but I do know how to play. Although if you ever tell anyone that I will be forced to kill you."

She laughed at his joke, knowing he was trying to make the best of their awkward situation. "Your secret dies with me. My dad tried to teach me how to play once but I just didn’t get it. Gimme solitaire any day of the week."

"I’d be glad to show you someday if you’re interested," Brandon offered. "I had a great teacher. My grandmother taught me to play when I was a kid."

"Sounds like a plan."

They talked for an hour over sodas and cheese fries. Never in his life had Brandon seen a girl eat as much as Peyton did in one sitting. He secretly wondered where it all went; she couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. That hour they spent getting to know one another was quickly becoming one of the best hours of his life because he’d gotten to know more about the girl of his dreams. With every passing minute he fell a little harder for the brunette sitting across from him.

But there was one subject he was cautious not to broach too soon – her relationship with Nick Duffy. Finally, after an hour-and-a-half, he felt comfortable bringing it up. He only hoped she was comfortable talking about it with him.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" he asked her.

Peyton took a sip of her Diet Coke. "Sure."

"Why did you stay with Nick for as long as you did? It’s pretty obvious he didn’t treat you the way he should have."

She knew he’d mention it sometime and was surprised he’d waited so long to do so. "I don’t want to say I was used to it, but...well, there’s a level of comfort being with the same person for so long. You know what to expect. And Nick and I dated for two years. I guess part of me thought he was the type of guy I deserved."

"Nobody deserves to be treated like that, least of all you."

"He said he loved me and that nobody else would ever love me the way he did. Lame excuse, I know," she told him.

Hearing those words coming from the mouth of the girl he’d give the world to angered him. "He didn’t love you, Peyton. He couldn’t have. It’s not possible to love someone and beat them up."

"I know that now."

"How badly did he hurt you?" Brandon wanted to know.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Never anything really bad. For as much of a jerk as he was, Nick was always very careful not to hit me or bruise me anywhere that couldn’t be easily covered up with jeans or a long-sleeved blouse. Brandon, it wasn’t always like that. He had his kind moments, too."

"Between beatings?"

"You’re blowing it way out of proportion. Nick is out of my life."

He arched a single eyebrow. "Except that he spends his nights stalking you and finding other ways to torment you."

"He’ll move on. I’m not worried about him."

"I am. Just so you know, I’m around if you need me. I’m more than happy to watch out for you if you have someplace to go and you know he’ll be there."

"I appreciate it." She glanced at her wristwatch. "Wow, it’s quarter to nine. I should get going, I told my parents I’d be home by nine."

"Do you need a ride? I’d be happy to drop you off," he offered.

"On your Harley?" Peyton asked incredulously.

"Why not?"

She shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not exactly a biker chick. Motorcycles aren’t my thing. I tend to be freaked out by them."

"Are you sure? I’m a very safe driver. I’ve never been in an accident with it."

"I’m sure."

Brandon could tell there would be no changing her mind. "Okay. Well, I had a good time tonight, Peyton."

"So did I. We’ll have to do it again sometime soon."

‘Perfect!’ "How about next Saturday? My grandmother is having a birthday party and I’d like you to come with me if you don’t already have plans."

"You mean like a date?"

He didn’t want to frighten her by calling it a date, even though he thought of it as one. "I wouldn’t call it a date. Just two friends going to a catered family dinner together. What do you say?"

"Sure. I’d love to go," she agreed.

***

12

"Put me down for two next Saturday night for dinner," Brandon informed his grandmother over lunch on Saturday afternoon.

Evelyn Thurston placed the coffee cup she’d just sipped from back on the table. "Good, you’re bringing a date. I’m guessing your meeting went well yesterday."

He nodded his head. "It went so much better than well, Grandma. It was fantastic. Probably the best night of my life."

"Oh, don’t tell me you slept with her already," his grandmother remarked. "You’ve barely known the girl two weeks." Then she thought about what she’d said to him. "Nevermind, I forgot who I was talking to. Two weeks is a lifetime to you."

"I did not sleep with her!" he exclaimed. "Peyton’s not that kind of girl. She doesn’t do that, and neither do I anymore." ‘Not since I saw her.’

She noted the look in her grandson’s brown eyes. It was one she had never seen him sporting before – love. Brandon was in love with this Peyton girl. That would explain his sudden change in demeanor. "Peyton, huh? Are you going to tell me about her or will I be waiting in suspense until next Saturday night?"

"What do you want to know?" Brandon asked.

"Her full name would be nice. What she looks like...pretty much everything you already know about her."

Brandon laughed at his grandmother. His sister had always found their grandmother’s nosiness annoying, but he found it endearing. She cared more about his personal life than his own parents did. "All right. Her full name is Peyton Kendall. I’ve known her since grammar school, not that I ever paid much attention to her. She is beautiful; long brown hair, blue eyes and a killer figure. Let’s see, she’s in the National Honor Society, so she’s really smart."

"Katie was in National Honor Society, wasn’t she?"

"Yep. And they can’t stand one another. Goes to show Peyton has good taste."

Evelyn Thurston simply shook her head at Brandon’s comment. ‘One day those two will get along. I just hope I live long enough to see it.’ "Is Peyton any relation to Charles Kendall?"

"He’s her father. Why?"

"Then I’m sure you’re aware how your father feels about him."

"I do. Not that I particularly care. Just because Dad and Mr. Kendall have an antagonistic relationship doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with Peyton."

"Friends? Is that all you want from her?" his grandmother questioned.

He sighed heavily. Wasn’t she listening before? "I already told you, Grandma, I didn’t sleep with her. I have no intention of sleeping with her."

"That wasn’t what I was asking you. It’s written all over your face, Brandon Joseph Thurston. This girl has stolen your heart without even realizing it, hasn’t she?"

"I’m confused." But it was a lie. He knew exactly what his grandmother meant.

She didn’t buy his dumb act for a single moment. "Oh please. You can admit it to me; we tell each other everything. Are you in love with this Peyton girl?"

"I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve never been in love before, so I’m not sure what it feels like. But I can’t imagine it feeling much better than this."

"Then I definitely can’t wait to meet her. She must be one amazing girl to have knocked you off your feet, especially given your history with women."

"She’s the one, Grams. I can feel it."

***

"Are you purposely trying to make me go insane?" Jessica demanded of her best friend Saturday evening at Holiday’s. "We’ve been here for half an hour and you haven’t told me a damn thing about your date last night."

Peyton smirked. "That’s because you haven’t asked."

"Because I thought it was implied! You could have at least volunteered the information. But if you’re going to make me work for it, fine, I’ll play. I want to know every gory detail of what happened."

"Jess, I’m not giving you every detail. A girl’s got to have her secrets."

She groaned, aggravated. "Whatever. You are absolutely no fun, I hope you know that. I just want to know the who, what, when, where, why and how of it."

Peyton couldn’t help but laugh. Jessica was going to drive her nuts until she gave up some information. "Okay, it was no one you know. We met at the Café Americain at seven o’clock last night and stayed there for about two hours. He and I hit it off right away, we have a lot in common. And before you ask, no, he’s not a psychopath or a sociopath or any other kind of ‘path’. He’s just a nice, normal guy. In fact, we’re going out next Saturday night."

"I wouldn’t know him, huh?" asked Jessica. "Try me."

"What?"

"Tell me who your internet boyfriend is. I’m dying to put a face to the description."

But Peyton couldn’t tell Jessica who GBAILEY85 was. It would kill her to know her best friend had a date with the boy she’d been mooning over ever since junior high. No, she wouldn’t test their friendship that way. Jessica didn’t need to know it was Brandon Thurston. "I already told you, nobody you know."

Jessica didn’t believe her. There had to be a reason why Peyton wouldn’t tell her his identity. "Eric and I were right, weren’t we? It was Nick."

"No! God no! Look, he and I decided to keep each other’s identities to ourselves for a while. At least until we decide what’s going to happen."

"Are you two dating?" she wanted to know.

"No. We’re friends. Neither of us are looking to be in a relationship." ‘I know I’m not. And I really don’t see Brandon settling down with one girl anytime soon,’ she thought.

"Just be careful. Promise me you won’t do anything that’ll get you in trouble."

Peyton rolled her eyes. "Jessie, you sound like my mother."

"Good. Which reminds me, what did you tell them?"

"Nothing. They don’t even know where I went last night. Can you imagine how they’d react? ‘Mom, Dad, I’m going out to meet the guy I met online last week.’ Yeah, that’ll go over *real* well with them. I’d be grounded until the day I die."

The blonde nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I guess they would do that."

"Hey, Peyton," a voice said from behind her.

She turned around, smiling when she saw Drew Maxwell standing behind her. The two of them sat next to one another in their English class the previous year. "Hi, Drew. How are you doing?"

"I’m doing good. You look terrific tonight," he complimented.

That night she’d chosen a jean skirt, black blouse and knee-length boots. "Thank you. Are you here with Alexa?"

He shook his head. "No. She and I broke up last Thursday. I heard about you and Nick breaking up. Are you doing okay?"

"Yep. I’m the one who did the breaking up, so I’m handling it pretty well. I feel a lot better, like a weight has been lifted of my shoulder. Things weren’t working, you know what I mean?"

"More than you know. I was wondering, would you like to dance?"

"I’m sure sure." Then Jessica kicked her under the table and silently told her with her eyes to say yes. Drew was a nice guy, what harm would it do? "You know, I think I’d like that."

As he led her to the dance floor, Peyton caught sight of Brandon standing near the bar, a flock of girl around him. ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Giving him a smile when their eyes met, she let Drew envelope her in his arms for a slow dance.

What she didn’t see was the look of longing on Brandon’s face when she rested her head on Drew’s shoulder.

***

13

Standing before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, Peyton spun around and surveyed her outfit. She didn’t feel as confident in her clothing choice as she had an hour earlier. Her sleeveless navy blue, floral print dress seemed too under-dressed for a birthday party. Especially one where the guest of honor was the Mayor’s mother. Peyton wanted to make a good first impression, but wasn’t sure she could do it in what she wore.

"You look lovely," her mother complimented from the doorframe.

She saw her mother’s reflection and turned around. "Are you sure, Mom? I just don’t know if it’s right."

"Well, it’s a little dressy for a quick dinner and a movie with Eric and Jessica, if that’s what you’re asking."

"I’m not going out with them tonight." She hadn’t told her parents what her plans were for the evening. "I sort of have a date."

Mrs. Kendall raised her eyebrows in interest. Hearing that her daughter had a date came as a shock; she never expected Peyton would begin dating again so soon after her breakup with Nick. "A date? That’s terrific."

"I see that look. Don’t get too excited; it’s not that kind of date. A friend from school invited me to his grandmother’s birthday party," Peyton informed her.

"Who’s the friend? I know it’s not Eric." Eric’s maternal and paternal grandparents had died years before.

Looking at herself again in the mirror, the teenager smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress. "It’s Brandon Thurston."

It took several seconds for her mother to allow the information to process. "Brandon Thurston? As in Mayor Thurston’s son? When did this happen? You never mentioned him before, I wasn’t aware you two traveled in the same social circles."

"We don’t really. He helped me out a few weeks ago and we started talking. Once you get past his hoodlum-like exterior, he’s a nice guy."

"Well, I can understand why you’re so uncertain about what you’re wearing. After all, you’re having dinner with the Mayor and your new crush," Mrs. Kendall assumed.

"No!" exclaimed Peyton. "That’s not it at all; at least not everything you said. I don’t even think about Brandon that way, not that he’s not good-looking. He is. But I’m just afraid I’m going to walk in the door and be completely overwhelmed and out-classed. Do you understand what I’m talking about?"

She nodded. "I understand. Although you never cared what people thought about you before. Why start now?"

"I’ve always cared, I just pretended I didn’t care. Except for those extreme cases when Nick left huge gashes or bruises all over me. *Then* I *really* cared," Peyton admitted. The doorbell rang and she practically jumped out of her skin. "He’s here."

The older woman took her daughter’s hand and led her to the stairs. "I think maybe you’d better get your butt down there before your father gives him the third degree. I think we both know his feelings on the subject of Mayor Richard Thurston."

***

"Can I help you?" Mr. Kendall said coolly to the teenage boy on the other side of the front door. The last person he ever expected to find standing there was Brandon Thurston.

Brandon tried to look non-plussed at the cool reception he’d received from Peyton’s father. His first thoughts were to reply with a sarcastic comeback but his better judgement won out. He didn’t want to start out on the wrong foot with his love’s father. "Good evening, Mr. Kendall. I’m here to pick up Peyton."

"For what, exactly?"

"My grandma’s birthday party. She’s accompanying me," Brandon answered. "Didn’t she tell you?"

"I’m certain she would have if it were true." He started to close the door in Brandon’s face when his wife called out to him.

"Charles, let Brandon in. Peyton’s ready," Mrs. Kendall said.

He looked at his wife of twenty years as if she were insane, and then at his daughter. "What is going on around here? Why wasn’t I told about this before now?" he asked.

"Because I knew how you’d react, Dad," Peyton told him once she reached the bottom of the stairs. "Just like this."

When she opened the door for Brandon, he found it nearly impossible to move from his place on the porch. Peyton looked beautiful in her dress, her light brown hair curled softly down her back. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands through it as his lips touched hers. But he knew that dream wouldn’t become a reality for a long, long time, if it ever did.

"Come in, Brandon," she invited.

After prying his feet from the WELCOME mat, Brandon entered the house. "You look nice," he managed to say. ‘Nice? Is that all you can say?’ his inner voice tormented him. ‘How about beautiful? Gorgeous? So damned sexy we skip the party and head for my bedroom so I can make love to you all night long?’

"I’m not underdressed, am I?" Peyton asked him. Seeing him in a pair of black dress pants and white shirt, she had serious doubts.

"It’s fine. Are you ready to go? Dinner’s being served in half an hour."

Peyton nodded her head, pulling a sweater out of the closet near the front door. "Let’s go."

"Um, hold on just a moment," her father said, blocking the door. "Can someone please explain what’s going on here?"

His wife pulled him away so that Peyton and Brandon could leave the house. "I’ll explain it all to you later on. Have fun, you two."

"Thanks, Mom."

But Peyton’s father wasn’t about to let her leave so easily. "Exactly what time do you plan on bringing my daughter home, Brandon? She *does* have a curfew."

"What time do you want her home?"

"Midnight."

Peyton was appalled by her father’s answer. "Dad!" she complained. "That’s not fair. My weekend curfew is one-thirty and you know it."

"Fine. But not a minute later."

The two left, closing the door behind them. Mr. Kendall took the opportunity to glare at his wife. "I don’t like this one bit."

"Peyton’s a big girl, Charles. She’s almost eighteen and can make her own decisions. Just be happy she’s not going out with Nick," she responded.

"I don’t know what’s worse, Nick Duffy or Brandon Thurston. Regardless of the other option, I don’t like him."

***

"Your dad doesn’t like me," Brandon stated simply as they drove to his house where the party was being held.

"Don’t worry about it. He didn’t like Nick at first, either."

He scoffed. "With good reason, I might add. He was an asshole."

"I won’t disagree with you there. But I wouldn’t take it personally. It’s equal parts protecting his daughter and an extreme dislike for you father," she reassured him.

"Can’t fault the guy for that. I can’t say I like my father very much, either. At least he has good taste."

Peyton patted his right knee, causing all of his blood to rush to the lower half of his body. "Give him some time. Dad’ll warm up to you eventually."

***

14

Peyton stared in awe as she and Brandon pulled up to his house. No, calling it a house was an understatement; he lived in a mansion. She’d passed by it hundreds of times since she’d been born, but now it looked different to her. For the first time in her life, she would be setting foot inside of it instead of driving by and looking longingly. Granted, she didn’t exactly live in the slums, but her house certainly did not look like the Mayor’s mansion.

"Wow. There’s an awful lot of cars for a small family birthday dinner," she commented when Brandon opened the car door for her.

"Dad probably invited some of his political friends. He never passes up an opportunity to schmooze," he replied, his voice dripping with disdain. "That’s his idea of an intimate family gathering."

Peyton frowned, fearing she’d opened a can of worms. "Sorry I said anything." ‘Open mouth, insert foot. Nice going, Peyton.’

"Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you don’t already know that my relationship with my parents is a sad state of affairs. Let’s just say if it wasn’t for my grandma I wouldn’t have even come tonight. I’m sure my father is using this party as a lame attempt to drum up more votes for his re-election in November."

"If you want to leave, I understand."

Brandon shook his head. "Nope. My grandmother is dying to meet you. And I don’t like to disappoint Grandma."

He led her inside the front door, the sounds of polite conversation and classical music enveloping them. After taking her sweater and placing it on the coatrack to the left of the door, Brandon took Peyton’s arm. They walked into the living room, where at least a dozen people stood in groups chatting.

"Welcome to my personal hell," he stated, looking around the room for a face he recognized. He found none.

"I can see what you mean," his date agreed. "This definitely doesn’t strike me as your type of crowd."

He laughed at her astute observation. "You got that right, Peyton. To tell you the truth, after most of these parties I hop on my Harley and take a spin around town to clear my head. Are you game for joining me?" he wanted to know.

"Sure, except for the Harley party. I’m not a big motorcycle fan."

"I guess I’ll have to change your mind about that. Come on, let me introduce you to my grandmother."

The two teenagers headed in the direction of the dining room; Brandon knew that would be where he’d find his grandmother. And his hunch was right; they found her sitting at the table with a couple standing to her right. The older woman’s face lit up when she saw her grandson walk into the room with a beautiful girl on his arm.

"Brandon! You get over here this instant and introduce me to your date," Evelyn Thurston ordered.

"Happy birthday, Grandma. Big turnout as always."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Please don’t patronize me. I think we both know why they’re here." His grandmother made eye contact with Peyton. "If you haven’t already guessed, I’m Brandon’s grandmother. Evelyn Thurston."

"I’m Peyton Kendall. It’s very nice to meet you," she said, outstretching her arm to shake her hand.

"My grandson has told me quite a bit about you since last week. I understand you two met over the internet."

Peyton nodded her head. "That’s partly true, yes. Actually, Brandon’s quite the hero. He’s assigned himself my personal bodyguard after scaring away my ex-boyfriend a couple weeks ago."

"Did he now?" Evelyn was intrigued. "Do tell."

Brandon didn’t want to be around while the two of them gossiped about him. It was fairly obvious that his grandmother and Peyton were going to get along famously. "I’m going to get something to drink. Can I get you something, Peyton? Grandma?" he asked.

"A cola would be nice," Peyton said, a smile playing on her lips.

"I’ll take a cranberry and vodka. Peyton, have a seat and tell me exactly how you met my grandson. And don’t leave out a single detail."

Brandon left the dining room and walked into the kitchen to pour himself an iced tea, as well as Peyton and his grandmother’s drink requests. He’d have given anything for a beer, but he doubted Peyton would allow him to take her home if he drank any alcohol. And he wasn’t about to risk his blossoming relationship with her by doing something stupid.

"Hey, Brand," his brother Alexander greeted, strolling up to the makeshift bar. "I’m surprised you’re here tonight."

"Why? I never miss one of Grandma’s birthday parties."

Twenty-three year old Alex Thurston made himself a rum and Coke before responding to his younger brother. "I’m talking about the fact that Dad turned it into a political fundraiser."

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "And that’s supposed to surprise you? You know how Dad is. He’ll never change."

"Don’t have to remind me. Speaking of changing, I caught a glimpse of your date while you were talking to Grandma." Alex whistled with appreciation. "Quite a hottie."

"That’s Peyton. She’s a friend."

His brother wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Friends? You mean to tell me after this party is over you’re not gonna try and nail her? I don’t believe it. That girl has a naughty body. Just imagine the possibilities."

"You’re sick, Alex. Peyton’s not that type of girl." Brandon picked up the three drinks.

"A good girl in a naughty girl’s body. Even better."

Groaning, Brandon walked out of the room.

***

"What do you think you’re doing here?" Katie demanded, pulling Peyton away from the rest of the guests following dinner.

Peyton tried to shake off the other girl’s grip. She hated being manhandled. "I was invited by Brandon."

"Why?"

"We’re friends," she replied. "Is something wrong with that?"

Katie laughed. It wasn’t a friendly chuckle but a spiteful, sadistic laugh. "My brother doesn’t have friends, at least none who are girls. You’re a toy, a means to an end for him. He’ll take what he wants from you and send you packing. Just like the rest of them."

"It’s not like that with us," Peyton tried to explain. "I don’t have any intention of sleeping with him."

"Then you’d be the first. Let me give you a tip, Peyton. Brandon’s just running a game on you. We may have had our differences, so I’m giving you fair warning. Get out while you still can."

***

Richard Thurston walked up to his youngest son, a stern look on his face. "Would you care to explain why you brought that girl to your grandmother’s party?"

"What’s the big deal?" Brandon questioned. "Everyone else brought a date, including Alexander. Why is my date such an issue?"

"I was under the impression you were bringing Rachael Warren tonight."

"Then your impression would be wrong, Dad. I never had any intention of bringing Rachael. I don’t even like her."

His father fumed. "So instead you chose to bring Charles Kendall’s daughter?" he hissed. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"It’s a free country, Dad, you of all people should know that. I can invite whomever I choose to a party. And her name is Peyton," Brandon spat.

"She’s probably got a tape recorder in her purse so her father can transcribe every word and turn your grandmother’s birthday party into a slanderous attack on me," Mayor Thurston accused.

His son narrowed his eyes, not taking kindly to his father’s unkind words about Peyton. "Maybe you should have given that a little bit more thought before you decided to invite all of your political friends to her party. Besides, Peyton’s not like that. I invited her as a friend. There’s no hidden microphones or video cameras anywhere on her."

"And you ought to know, right?"

"What are you implying, Dad?"

The Mayor smirked. "Oh, you know exactly what I am implying, Brandon. How many maids have we lost because you couldn’t keep it in your pants? Well, do us both a favor. Don’t attempt it with her. You fuck her and you’re fucking my entire political career."

***

15

"You want to get the hell out of here?" Brandon asked his date forty-five minutes after the cake had been served. "The walls are starting to close in around me."

Peyton looked closely at him; he looked tired. Not physically but mentally and emotionally. Now she understood why he hated attending family parties – they drained him of all his energy. "If you’re ready to leave, sure."

"We don’t have to go if you don’t want to," he said. He didn’t want Peyton to feel as if he were kicking her out. "Look, we can stay if you are having a good time."

"To tell you the truth, I’m not," she admitted. "The only people I know here are you and your sister. And needless to say, your sister and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on a lot of subjects. Particularly you."

"Yeah, she’s pretty opinionated, which is to say she’s snobby. Just let me say goodbye to my grandmother before we get out of here."

She nodded her head, knowing how important Brandon’s grandmother was to him. "Okay. Do you want me to go with you?"

"Nah, you can wait here if you want to. I’ll be back in a minute." Taking off, he headed in the direction of the dining room. His grandmother hadn’t moved from her seat since they’d arrived. "Grams, Peyton and I are gonna head out of here."

Evelyn Thurston completely understood. She was very well aware of how uncomfortable her grandson was at these types of parties. "What will you and Peyton be doing once you leave?"

He smirked wickedly. His grandmother thought she knew him, but she didn’t. Not this time. "Nothing that you need to be worried about. I respect her, I’m not going to try anything with her. Besides, I think she can take me out if she really wanted to."

"Good, I’m glad to hear it. I mean about you respecting her. She seems like a very sweet girl and I would like to see more of her. Perhaps you should ask her out on another date," his grandmother suggested.

Bending down, he placed a quick kiss on her cheek. "You read my mind."

***

"Do you want to take a walk?" Brandon wanted to know twenty minutes later. They’d driven all around town, finally stopping the car in a small parking lot on the edge of town. "Maybe we could take a stroll and talk for a little while."

He’d parked the car at the edge of the woods where she’d broken up with Nick. Though she recalled Eric and Jessica’s warnings about going anywhere alone with him, Peyton chose to ignore them. She could trust Brandon. "Sounds like a good idea."

Brandon had been nothing short of a perfect gentleman all night long. His reputation was not stellar, so she had slight misgivings at first about a walk in the woods, but quickly squashed them. He wasn’t as bad as everyone made him out to be. It just took some time to get to know him. And Peyton was glad she had; he was intelligent, funny, charming and considerate of her feelings. Everything she’d been looking for in a potential boyfriend, not that she was on the hunt for one.

Taking her hand in his so she didn’t trip over any exposed roots or broken tree branches, Brandon felt totally at ease with her. Around Peyton he could be himself. "Sorry the party turned out to be a political bruhaha. I wanted to take you someplace fun; I guess I should have known better than to take you to a family party during an election year."

"Don’t worry about it. I had a good time. Your grandmother seemed very nice. Although your older brother kinda creeped me out a bit."

"Which one, Rich or Alex?"

She had to think; she’d met so many new people that night it had been hard to keep track of all their names. "I’m sorry, I can’t remember his name. The one who isn’t married."

"That would be Alex. He’s a bit of a ladies man back at school. And in the family, too."

"Which one are you?" she asked, stepping over a rock. "If Alex is the ladies man, Katie is the princess and your oldest brother is the golden child, what role do you fill?"

"The one of the prodigal son," he answered, looking down. "The family screw-up. My father has already decided that I’ll never amount to anything, and that the only thing I excel at is screwing the help. In the literal sense."

Peyton didn’t know what to say. There were rumors around town that Brandon was a player, but she never paid much attention to them. She always thought of him as the thug who scared everyone within a ten mile radius. "Oh."

He caught the look on her face, as well as the tone of her voice. ‘Might as well come clean.’ "He’s right, you know. That is the only thing I’m good at. I’m the reason my parents won’t hire any woman under the age of forty-five to work as a member of the staff.."

"So that’s why your sister warned me to stay away from you," Peyton mumbled.

"Doesn’t surprise me she said that, although I figured she’d have a little more tact than that. Oh well, I should know better. Peyton, I’m not going to deny that I’ve been around the block more than a few times. I have been. But I want you to know I’m not planning on doing that with you. I don’t want to ruin what we have."

"What do we have?" she wanted to know.

He looked in her eyes, hoping to find the answer there. "I hope we have friendship."

"We do. Look, we all make mistakes. No one’s perfect."

"I don’t know about that. Someone out there has to be." What Brandon didn’t add was that he thought she was the closest thing he’d ever seen to perfection.

She frowned. "I know I’m not."

"Why do you say that?"

"Come on. A perfect person would never have stayed in an abusive relationship for two years. She’d have gotten out after the first slap." Mad at herself, Peyton kicked a stone over the edge of the cliff they were walking along.

Brandon wanted to hear how it all began. "When did it start?"

Talking about Nick’s dark side wasn’t what Peyton set out to do that night. It tore her apart inside at times to even think about it. "A couple months after we started going out. Things were great at first; Nick was everything I’d ever wanted in a boyfriend. He was the first boy I ever went out with. And I loved him and thought I’d be with him forever. But I was wrong.

"The first time it happened he didn’t hurt me too bad. We’d gotten into an argument over what movie to go see. So stupid. I wanted to see your typical chick flick while he wanted to see an action movie. Neither one of us were going to give in, so he slapped me when I made some sarcastic comment. He apologized like crazy for days because I refused to talk to him. Over and over again he promised he’d never do it again." She snorted. "Yeah. That lasted about a month. And so the cycle of abuse went."

"Why did you stay with him? Anyone else could have treated you better," Brandon told her. ‘Like me.’

She shrugged her shoulders, feeling hot tears beginning to burn her eyes. Talking about it never ceased to make her cry. She was sick of crying over him. "Because for the longest time I felt as if I deserved it. Every cut, every bruise, every slap. Nick told me no one would ever love me the way he did."

"That’s not true."

"Sometimes I wonder."

"You don’t have to wonder. ‘Cause I know." ‘I could kill him with my bare hands for what he’s done to my Peyton. He’ll never touch her again. I’ll see to it.’

Though every fiber of his being longed to do nothing more than crush Peyton’s soft lips against his and prove to her that *he* could love her like Nick never could, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he held her in his strong arms and let her cry on his shoulder.

***

16

"Peyton, sweetie, can we talk?" Mr. Kendall asked his daughter Saturday afternoon after he’d finished his gardening.

She glanced up suspiciously, looking from her father to her mother and back again. Something was going on, and she didn’t like their secrecy. "Okay..."

"Have a seat."

Taking a seat on the reclining chair her father pointed to, Peyton felt like she was on trial; both her parents sat on the couch across from her like an expectant jury. And they didn’t look very happy. "What did I do this time?"

"You didn’t do anything," Mrs. Kendall reassured her. "It’s more along the lines of your father and I being concerned about you."

"What for? I don’t get it."

"Your date last night," her father stated. "Your mother and I were discussing it, and we’re worried about you. Ever since you broke things off with Nick you’ve been acting strange. Even more quiet and withdrawn than usual. And now with you spending time with Brandon Thurston, we think it’s time we all had a family discussion."

Peyton widened her blue eyes in surprise. Her parents had never had a problem with her choice of friends before; why were they bringing it up now? "So let me get this straight. You want to talk to me about my friendship with Brandon? I’m confused."

"We think you can do better," Mrs. Kendall said honestly.

"My god, you make it sound like we’re dating or something. Trust me, we’re not. Far from it. I don’t see what the big deal is, he and I are just friends," Peyton argued.

"He’s not the type of friend you need."

She couldn’t believe what was coming out of her parents’ mouth. "What?!" Peyton exclaimed. "How do you know what kind of friend he is? Neither of you know Brandon like I know him."

"And we’d prefer you not getting to know him any better than you already do," Mr. Kendall said. "Look, honey, we know you’re a good girl, but even good girls make bad decisions. We just don’t want this to be one of those."

"You have both completely lost your minds," the teenager remarked incredulously.

Mrs. Kendall sighed. What she and her husband were trying to say wasn’t getting through their daughter’s thick skull. So much for being subtle. "We don’t want you to see you being another notch on that boy’s bedpost. Brandon Thurston has a bad reputation; one we do not want our daughter associated with."

Peyton shook her head, her mouth agape. "How can you say that about me, and about Brandon? Don’t you think I know about his reputation? He’s a bad boy, that’s the main reason I avoided being in the same room with him for most of high school. I was wrong about him, and so are you. But if you think I’m naive enough to be taken in by a pretty face and false promises, you obviously don’t know me very well. And beyond that, you can’t tell me who I can or cannot be friends with. I’m a big girl, I can make my own choices."

"Peyton..." her father warned.

"No! This isn’t even about me and Brandon, is it, Dad?" she shot. "It’s about you and his father. You two despise each other for some unknown reason and you want me to feel the same way about Brandon. Not gonna happen."

"We are looking our for you best interests."

"My best interests?" she repeated. "Are you kidding? What are you *really* afraid of? That I’m planning to run off with him and get my heart broken? That’s not going to happen either. I’m friends with Brandon, that’s where our relationship stops. He’s a good friend, he’s protected me from Nick on more than one occasion, so that alone should give him brownie points in your book. And as for his less-than-stellar reputation, don’t worry about that either. I don’t have any intention of being his next conquest. He’s grown up."

She took a deep breath, staring at her stricken parents. "So, now that we’ve had our family discussion, can I go? I have plans this afternoon."

***

"You don’t look like yourself today," Brandon commented as he and Peyton sat in a secluded booth in the corner of the Café Americain.

"I don’t?" she asked. Her hands immediately flew up to her hair. "What’s wrong with me? Is my hair doing funky things?"

Her shook his head. "No, your hair looks perfect. Something just seems off today. Is something bothering you? Is it Nick? ‘Cause if it is, I’ll gladly hunt him down and kill him with my bare hands."

She smiled sweetly at his offer, deranged though it may have been. "It’s not Nick, though it would have been a welcome change. This time it’s my parents. We had to have a family chat before I left to meet you. And you were the topic of discussion, surprisingly enough."

"They don’t like me very much," Brandon assumed. He’d gotten that impression the night before when he picked up Peyton for his grandmother’s birthday party.

"Pretty much the consensus. I don’t think it has anything to do with you, at least not totally. They *are* concerned about your love ‘em and leave ‘em reputation, but that’s not it."

"Then what is?" He hoped Peyton believed him when he told her he didn’t want to do that with her. He wanted her in a different way from which he’d wanted all those other girls. With them it was about sex, with her it was about love.

Peyton took a sip of her coffee. "Our parents. Or more specifically, our fathers. Something went down between them in the past and I think they expect their hatred of one another to be passed down to us."

"Sounds about right."

"Why do you say that?" she wanted to know.

"Well, about fifteen years ago your father wrote a scathing article about my dad. It was around the time my dad was running for a seat on the town council. Apparently your dad said some things in that article that my father thinks cost him that seat. I guess there’s been some bad blood between them ever since. In fact, last night my dad confronted me about inviting you to the party. He thought you came with a tape recorder to get some gossip for an article your father was writing."

Peyton tried unsuccessfully to keep from laughing. "Doesn’t like I made a very good impression on him."

Brandon shrugged his shoulders. "Ignore him, that’s what I always do. Besides, I don’t care what he thinks. Never did and never will."

"That’s not a very good attitude considering he’s your father."

"Sorry. But on a brighter note, you made a terrific first impression on my grandmother. She absolutely adored you."

A smile spread across Peyton’s face. "She did? Wow, that’s...wow."

"Her opinion is the only one that matters. Aside from yours, that is."

***

17

A knock on his bedroom door Sunday evening caused Brandon to nearly jump out of his skin with fright. He didn’t think anyone was home; his parents were at a fundraiser and Katie was supposed to be out on a date. Pulling off his headphones, he sat up in preparation for his surprise visitor.

"Come on in," he called out.

When the door opened, his older sister waltzed in, a scowl playing upon her facial features. Brandon could tell she was pissed off about something, not that he particularly cared. "I absolutely cannot believe you!"

Brandon only lifted his dark eyebrows at her outburst. "What can you not believe?" ‘This should be good.’

"You!" Katie exclaimed. "The fact that you had the audacity to show up at Grandma’s birthday party with Peyton ‘Goody Two Shoes’ Kendall as your date simply astounds me. What on earth possessed you to do something that stupid?"

"Gee, I’m sorry I didn’t okay my choice of dates with you. Next time I’ll know better," he replied sarcastically. "Get out."

Katie groaned in frustration. Her brother just didn’t get it. "I’ll have you know I don’t find this the least bit funny."

"And you think I do?" he retorted back. "You know what, it’s not funny, it’s pathetic. Do you honestly think you have any control over whom I decide to bring to a family party? If you do, Katie, then you’re sadly mistaken. I don’t make a big deal about the egotistical, arrogant bloodsuckers you choose to go out with, and I’d appreciate the same from you in return."

"And normally I could care less who’s giving you your kicks, Brandon, but this time it’s different."

Rolling his eyes, he reached over for his headphones. "Don’t you have a date tonight? Go make some other poor schmuck’s life miserable and leave me the hell alone."

"Fine, I’ll leave you alone, but you have to answer one question first."

"Depends on the question."

She smirked, sitting on the bed next to her younger brother. "Is Peyton part of some game you’re playing? Are you out to nail her and dump her like every other girl you’ve come into contact with?"

"We’re friends," answered Brandon. "Nothing more, nothing less."

But the look on his face didn’t convince her of his words. Katie had never seen it on him before this past weekend, though she knew it wasn’t an _expression of friendship Brandon wore. She’d seen it all over him the night before. "Friends. Sure. I don’t buy it, Brandon. Peyton got to you, made you fall in love with her."

"Katie..."

"Go ahead, try and deny it. I know the truth."

Brandon couldn’t utter a word of denial. Every word she had spoken was the truth. "What’s the point?" he countered. "You’ve already made up your mind. Nothing I say will change it."

Katie took it as an admission. "Who would have ever thought Brandon Thurston could be tamed. And by Peyton Kendall, no less." She laughed. "I can’t wait to see how this plays out."

He leapt from the bed, standing in front of her. He used his six-foot-two frame to tower over her. "Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to anyone, especially Peyton. Is that understood?"

"Oh, so you mean she isn’t aware of your undying love and devotion?"

"Not a word."

Once again, she laughed. "My silence doesn’t come cheap, particularly given the reactions of those nearest and dearest to you should the truth come out."

"Are you blackmailing me?" Brandon demanded. He should have known bargaining with his older sister would come with a price.

"I don’t look at it as blackmail," she said, a smile spreading across her face. "Think of it as damage control. Let’s see, if I do say something, Dad will probably kill you. Or have you disinherited. Mom will be deeply shamed. Rich will laugh in your face, although Alex’ll probably applaud your stellar choice given what she looks like. And your precious Peyton...well, I’m afraid she’ll run off in the opposite direction as soon as your feelings are made public. Oh, and don’t forget the public humiliation for you. This is going to cost you big time."

He narrowed his eyes. "How much?"

"Two hundred bucks."

"You’re nuts!" he accused.

"And you will be on the outside looking in if you don’t pay me. ‘Cause I *will* spill the beans. The choice is yours."

Realizing his didn’t have a choice – Katie would most definitely spill the beans – Brandon succumbed to the pressure. "It’s all I have until the end of the month. I hope you’re pleased with yourself."

Katie grinned as he handed her a wad of twenty dollar bills. "Very pleased. But it looks like there won’t be any fancy dates for you and your sweetheart anytime soon. Have a nice night, little brother."

"Bitch," he muttered when she left the room.

***

"Earth to Peyton!" Jessica called, waving her hand in front of her best friend’s face. "Come in, Peyton."

Shaking herself out of her reverie, the brunette looked up to find her best friend looking expectantly at her. "I’m sorry, Jessica. Did you say something?"

Jessica closed her Economics book, then did the same thing to Peyton’s book. The two of them were studying in the Library during their seventh period study hall Monday afternoon. "Okay, what’s bothering you?" she wanted to know.

"Nothing."

"Bull. Something’s on your mind, I can tell. You’ve been reading the same page for the last fifteen minutes. What is it? Is it Nick?"

"No. I haven’t seen or heard from him in days."

"Is it another guy?" When she didn’t answer, Jessica took her silence as a yes. "Who is he, Peyton?"

"No one you know."

Jessica didn’t buy it. "It’s that internet guy you hooked up with last week. Am I right? Did he do something to you?"

"Jess! What would make you think that?"

"You turned down a date with Drew Masters. You’d have to be out of your mind to do something like that."

"That’s not it."

"Then what is it?" She looked closer at her, gauging the _expression on Peyton’s face. "Ah, I get it now. You’re falling for your little computer geek."

"He’s not a computer geek!" Peyton replied defensively. ‘If only you knew the truth about him, Jessica. You’d be eating your words.’

Jessica smiled. "Interesting. You defend your new friend but don’t deny your feelings. What’s really going on between you two? And why won’t you tell me who he is?"

‘Because you’d kill me,’ she thought. "Nothing’s going on between us. We’re friends, end of story. We had a good time Saturday night and got together for coffee yesterday afternoon. Is there something wrong with that?"

"You can’t hide him from me forever," Jessica informed her. "Eventually I’ll find out who he is."

"I know. I know."

***

18

Peyton had just reached the main entrance of Holiday’s a few nights later when she was grabbed from behind and dragged into the dark alley next to the building. She tried to cry out against her attacker but a hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cries. It was virtually impossible to see who’d dragged her there, though she recognized the cologne he wore. It was unmistakable.

"You are so predictable, Peyton," Nick scolded as he threw her against the brick wall. "Thursday night at Holiday’s with Jessica and Eric. It’s rather pathetic."

Her right shoulder throbbed from the force of being pushed into the wall. Looking up, she tried not to show her fear when she met Nick’s gaze. "I’m pathetic? You’re the one throwing me against the wall in an empty alley. What’s the matter, don’t have the balls to do it in public?"

"You’ve got a smart mouth, Peyton. I think you need to have it washed out with soap," he threatened.

She rolled her blue eyes, unimpressed by her ex-boyfriend’s attempts to scare her. At least that was what she wanted him to think. Truth was she was frightened. "Is that all you want? To complain about my predictability? Well, you’ve done what you set out to do. Not let me go inside."

"Not until you answer some questions. Like, for instance, where the hell were you Saturday night?" he demanded. "I called you at least five times and all I got was your stupid machine."

"I was out."

Nick glared angrily at her. "Where? You weren’t here because I checked."

"Where I was isn’t any of your concern anymore, Nick. You have no control over me. I don’t answer to you."

Enraged at her flippant attitude, Nick reached down and yanked her long chestnut hair as hard as he could, slamming her back against the wall. It was significantly harder than before. Her head connected with the bricks, causing it to throb like her shoulder did. "You little bitch!" he roared. "Don’t you know that I’ll *always* have control? It’s not over between us, it’ll never be over. We are meant to be together, Peyton. The sooner you realize it, the easier it’ll be."

"Leave me alone, Nick," Peyton practically begged. "You’re hurting me."

"I’m hurting you? Well, gee, I’m so sorry. Where’s your overprotective bodyguard now? Out getting laid? Or did he get what he wanted from you and dump your ass?"

"Stop it." Tears burned the inside of her eyelids when she tried her hardest to blink them away.

"What’s the matter, truth hurt?" taunted Nick. "Weren’t good enough in the sack for him? Don’t you know by now that nobody will ever love you half as much as I do?"

She vehemently shook her head. "No. You don’t love me. If you really loved me you wouldn’t hurt me. And you would let me move on with my life and find someone who makes me happy."

"Who’s been feeding you that crap? Your parents? Jessica? That little shit Eric?" He laughed. "Or was it your thug? Did he tell you that to get you to give it up?"

Summoning all her courage, Peyton took a deep breath. "At least he doesn’t hurt me. Brandon makes me happy. You stopped doing that a long time ago. And to answer your question, it is *none* of your business if I decided to sleep with him."

"You slut! You fucking whore!" His body tense and rigid with anger, Nick stood perfectly straight and slapped his ex-girlfriend across the face. He watched with satisfaction as her head snapped to the side, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh, that’s right. Cry like a little baby."

"I hate you," she hissed.

"Good, because I hate you, too. What I ever saw in a trashy little slut like you is beyond me. I wouldn’t want you after being with him and whoever else you spread your little legs for. How many others were there? Forget it, I don’t even want to know."

"Leave me alone."

Pressing her back to the wall, he pried her legs apart with his knees. When he found the buttons on her jeans, he began to undo them. Her sobs only made him chuckle. "Then again, maybe I *should* find out what’s underneath all those skanky outfits you’ve been wearing recently. After all, I put up with your teasing for two years. I deserve some compensation."

Peyton tried to push him away, but Nick was too strong for her. "I’ll scream," she threatened. "If you don’t let me go I’ll scream bloody murder."

He didn’t put it past her, she would definitely scream. "I’m sure you are a screamer. I don’t want you anyway. You’re trash." Reaching back once again, Nick slapped her, this time the brute force of it made her nose bleed upon contact.

"You’d better clean yourself up before you go inside," he said, smirking as he left the alley. "You’re a mess."

***

Brandon had been looking for Peyton for ten minutes. They were supposed to meet in the club at seven forty-five and he was beginning to worry when she hadn’t shown up by eight o’clock. Her friends weren’t there for him to ask, and he’d only gotten her answering machine when he called her phone. He hoped she hadn’t stood him up.

Sighing heavily, he decided to wait outside in hopes of catching her when she entered. The club was getting stuffy and too crowded for his liking. Once outside, he paced back and forth in front of the building. Bad thoughts started to creep into his head. Did she change her mind about their "date"? Or was she hurt? Was she okay? Trying to push those thoughts out of his mind, he heard the sounds of sniffling coming from the alley next to the club. Normally he would have ignored it, but something inside of him said to check it out.

What he found stopped his heart. His beloved Peyton sat on the dirty ground, her knees pressed up against her chest and sobs wracking her small frame. "Peyton?" he practically whispered.

She looked up, seeing Brandon standing there. The street lamp behind him made him look like an angel. "Br-Brandon?" He saw the blood dripping from her nose. "Who did this to you?" he questioned, pulling a tissue

out of his jacket pocket. Crouching down next to her, he wiped the blood and tears away.

"I-It was N-Nick. He p-pulled me in here a little while ago. He-He tried to..." She couldn’t get the rest of the words out. Thinking about it brought a fresh batch of tears.

"Tried to what?" Glancing down, Brandon caught sight of her unbuttoned jeans. It was then that he knew what had happened. And by the look of shame on Peyton’s face, he knew she knew he’d figured it out. "I’ll kill him. That bastard is dead when I find him."

Peyton lifted her hand, touching his arm. "Forget it. Just leave it alone, Brandon. Would you mind terribly if I cancel tonight?" she asked. "I don’t want to a-accidentally run into h-him."

"I’ll take you someplace quiet where we can talk."

"I didn’t bring my car," she informed him. "And I don’t know if I can walk."

"Can you hold on to me? I have my bike. I know you don’t like motorcycles but I’m a very safe driver," he told her.

Peyton nodded. "I trust you."

Those were the three words he wanted to hear come out of her mouth. Only one other three-word phrase did he want to hear more. Taking her hand, Brandon led her to his Harley. "Hold on to me. Tight. Don’t let go, no matter what. Understand?"

"I got it. Hold on tight."

He took off his jacket, forcing Peyton to put it on. "It’s really windy and really cold. You’ll freeze on the back of my bike in what you’re wearing."

"What about you?" she asked, concerned as he stood in front of her wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular torso.

"Don’t worry about me, I’m used to it. Just worry about yourself. Get on."

The two of them took off down the road, Brandon steering the motorcycle in the direction of the woods. He remembered Peyton telling him Saturday night how much she liked to go there when she wanted to be alone. Only this time they’d be alone together.

His thoughts turned to Nick Duffy. The next time he crossed paths with Peyton’s ex-boyfriend, he was going to kill him. No one would ever touch her like that, not as long as he was alive. He’d give his life for the girl whose arms held him tightly about his waist. And as much as he wanted to tell her how he felt, tonight wouldn’t be the right time. No, he’d have to wait to reveal his feelings, despite his intense desire to blurt out everything.

Brandon was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t see the deer in the middle of the road until the last minute. There wasn’t enough time to stop the bike safely, so he had to swerve out of the way. Upon doing so, the motorcycle tipped over, Brandon and Peyton going with it.

***

19

Peyton wasn’t paying attention to where Brandon was taking the two of them. She had been lost in her own thoughts from the moment he started the motorcycle. So far the night had sucked beyond the telling of it; from her confrontation with Nick to Brandon finding her crying in the alley. Shame filled her knowing that he’d seen her at her most vulnerable; she’d never wanted to reveal that side of her. Now that he’d seen it, would he still want to spend time with her?

As much as she hated to admit it, she enjoyed riding on the back of his motorcycle. The feeling of the wind whipping her long hair out behind her and the cool breeze blowing against her bruised cheek was surprisingly pleasant. Though she was slightly apprehensive at first, knowing Brandon was there to hold on to put her at ease. So she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, pressing her unbruised cheek against his back. He felt warm and smelled like fabric softener. It made her smile, never expecting that. She figured he’d have worn expensive cologne, but couldn’t have been happier that he didn’t. Brandon was living proof that looks could be deceiving. And if she didn’t know any better, she would swear she was falling for him.

Then all of a sudden the motorcycle jerked to the left at full speed. She didn’t have a clue what was going on, so she held on to him with all of her strength, barely hearing his voice call out her name. As the bike toppled over, the world went black.

***

"Oh my god," Brandon whispered when he drifted back into consciousness. ‘I must have been knocked out for a minute.’ The motorcycle rested on his ankle and he yanked it out from underneath the twisted metal. His left wrist ached, and he assumed it was sprained from the impact of the crash. Sitting up, he surveyed the damage.

‘Peyton!’ he thought. ‘Oh shit. Oh god.’ Scrambling to his right, he found her laying unconscious, her left leg trapped under the bike just as his had been. He tried to lift the bike off of her but his wrist refused to hold the weight of it; he wasn’t able to lift it on his own.

Feeling utterly helpless, Brandon checked for a pulse on her wrist. When he found it, he let out a relieved sigh. She was alive. Careful not to move her even an inch, he listened for the sounds of her breathing. It was shallow, but she was breathing on her own.

"Help. We need help," he realized, looking around for a house or a car. Or someone walking down the street who might be able to assist him in lifting the bike off Peyton’s prone body. As he suspected, they were alone in a secluded section of town. Remembering that he’d actually brought his cell phone, he reached into the pocket of his jacket – which Peyton still wore – and dialed nine-one-one.

"Don’t worry, love," he said to Peyton, caressing her cheek with his injured hand. "Help is coming. I won’t lose you. Not when I just found you."

***

When Mr. and Mrs. Kendall burst into the emergency room, Brandon and Peyton had already been there for half an hour. Brandon sat on one of the couches in the waiting room, having already been checked out and released. His injuries were only minor – a sprained wrist, twisted ankle and a few cuts and bruises on his left side. He hadn’t heard how Peyton was, though. She’d regained consciousness right before the ambulance arrived and was coherent enough to say she was hurt. He only frowned and apologized.

"Where is she?" Mr. Kendall demanded from the nurse behind the desk. "My daughter is Peyton Kendall, she was just admitted a little while ago."

"Charles, calm down," his wife said calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. She knew it would do their daughter no good to overreact and cause a scene.

"I’ll go check with the doctor," the nurse said before leaving in the direction of the patients’ rooms.

"I will *not* calm down," he growled. "Our daughter was in some kind of accident and I demand to know her condition. And what the hell happened to her."

Standing up, Brandon limped his way over to Peyton’s distraught parents and prepared himself for the worst. He knew they were going to blame him; they had every right to. After all, he had caused the accident. "Mr. and Mrs. Kendall? I-I can explain," he said.

Mr. Kendall snapped his head around to face the teenage boy. Just looking at the guilty _expression on his face and he knew exactly who was to blame. "You," he hissed. "You did this to my Peyton!"

"I’m s-sorry," Brandon managed to choke out. "It was an accident. I would never have purposely hurt her, I swear." He wanted to add "I love her" but knew her father would only take it the wrong way.

"You’re sorry? You’d better damn well be sorry. Because if anything happens to my daughter I will hold you personally responsible. And I will kill you."

His lower lip trembled, nearly on the verge of tears. "I didn’t mean for it to happen."

"Oh, I’m sure."

Mrs. Kendall glared at her husband. "Charles, let Brandon explain. What h-happened?"

"We were taking a ride," Brandon started. He purposely left out the part with Nick attacking Peyton in the alley. It wasn’t his place to say anything. "A deer darted out in front of my bike and I didn’t have time to stop. All I could do was try to avoid hitting it. When I turned the motorcycle, it fell on top of us."

"How’s Peyton? Was she awake?" her mother wanted to know.

He shook his head. "Not at first. She woke up right before the ambulance showed up. I-I think she might have a broken leg."

"You had better pray that’s all that’s wrong with her," her father warned.

"Brandon!" a powerful, angry voice called out from behind them. "What in god’s name is going on here? What did you do now?"

He turned around, seeing his parents standing just inside the door to the emergency room. ‘Now my night officially sucks.’ "Mom, Dad. What are you doing here?"

"We got a call from Officer Jameson saying you had been in an accident," his father informed him. He looked at the couple standing behind his son. "Why are the Kendalls here?"

"Our daughter was with him. And if I were you I’d get myself an attorney because I’m giving serious thought to suing your son for his negligent driving," Mr. Kendall told the Mayor.

Mr. Thurston rolled his eyes. "Put a cork in it, Kendall. Your threats don’t scare me for one minute."

Brandon’s mother approached her son while Mrs. Kendall spoke to the doctor. "Are you okay?" she asked him.

He nodded his head. "I’m okay. Just a sprained wrist and twisted ankle. I’m not hurt nearly as much as Peyton was."

"I just talked to the doctor," Mrs. Kendall said, rejoining the conversation. "Peyton’s fine. A broken leg and a minor concussion. And a few bruised ribs. They want to keep her here overnight for observation."

"Thank god," her husband whispered. He turned to Brandon and Mr. Thurston. "Guess you should count your blessings I won’t be suing you."

Brandon swallowed hard. Peyton was all right, he hadn’t lost her. "W-Would you mind if I saw her? I want to apologize to her for the accident."

"No," Mr. Kendall stated sharply. "You stay away from Peyton from now on. I don’t want to find you within twenty feet of my daughter ever again."

***

20

Laying on her hospital bed, Peyton stared at the ceiling. There wasn’t anything else to do, short of watching the hockey game being shown on the television set hung from the wall. The last place she expected to be that night was in the hospital. No, she had plans for the night, but she should have known they’d go to hell in a handbag the moment Nick dragged her into the dark alley next to Holiday’s and tried to rape her.

Hearing someone clear their throat in the hallway caught her attention. Glancing to her left, she saw her mother and father standing in the doorway. She frowned; they looked so worried. "You can come in, it’s okay."

"We weren’t sure if you were feeling up to some visitors," her mother told her. "How are you feeling?"

"Take a wild guess how I’m feeling. My head is pounding and my leg is broken. And I really, really, *really* want to go home. When can I go home?"

"Tomorrow morning. The doctor wants to monitor you overnight because of your concussion," Mr. Kendall said. "Do you remember what happened?"

Peyton nodded her head slightly. It hurt too much to move a lot. "Yeah, I remember most of it. Brandon and I were going for a ride and I was on the back of his motorcycle. All of a sudden he turned the bike. Next thing I knew I was on the ground; my leg was killing me because the bike landed on top of it. And Brandon was telling me how sorry he was." She paused. "Is he okay? What happened to him?"

Mrs. Kendall put her hand over her daughter’s in an effort to calm her down. "Don’t worry about him, Peyton. Just worry about yourself."

"I *am* worried about Brandon. I’m not gonna stop worrying until I know how he is. Was he hurt, too?"

‘Unfortunately not,’ her father thought. "Not as bad as you were, honey. He’s already been released from the hospital."

Peyton was relieved he hadn’t been badly injured. She felt like it was all her fault they’d gotten into the accident. If she’d only fought harder to get away from Nick, Brandon never would have found her crying in the alley. They’d have been inside the club dancing and having a good time. "What’s wrong with him?"

"It looked like he hurt his wrist. And he was limping, so I’m assuming he hurt his ankle as well," Mrs. Kendall informed her. "The two of you were very lucky."

"I’d like to know what possessed you to take a ride on the back of his motorcycle. I thought you had more sense than that," her father demanded.

She blinked, not wanting to tell her parents what had gone on between herself and Nick earlier that evening. It would only anger him more. "I was upset and Brandon and I were going someplace quiet to talk," she explained.

"Where? His bedroom?" he accused.

"Charles, don’t," his wife chastised. "This isn’t the time or place to be having this conversation. Peyton is still very weak."

Anger consumed the injured teenager. How could her father make accusations like that? "Dad, why are you so eager to jump to conclusions where Brandon is concerned? He doesn’t want to sleep with me. We’re just friends and he wouldn’t do that to me anyway. Or anyone else; not anymore. He’s not nearly as bad as you make him out to be."

"Regardless, I don’t want you to see him anymore."

"What?!" she exclaimed. "You can’t do that! This isn’t even his fault."

"He never should have let you on his bike, Peyton. Brandon Thurston has proven to be a bad influence on you. And it’s apparent he is a reckless driver who doesn’t concern himself with the safety of others. And I mean it when I say you aren’t allowed to go out with him."

She shook her head, refusing to accept her father’s demand. "No, Dad, you don’t know all the facts. Brandon was only protecting me. I was crying after a-a confrontation with Nick. He tried to hurt me. He hit me again. And Brandon was taking me away from Holiday’s so we could talk about it. Why are you blaming him for this? It’s my fault, not his."

"That boy has brainwashed you. It’s all part of some plan he’s cooked up. You are better off without him in your life. As of this moment you are to have no contact with that boy. No phone calls, no hellos in the hallway at school, no going out as friends, nothing. End of discussion."

***

The next morning, Brandon snuck past the Nurse’s Station five minutes before visiting hours began. He needed desperately to talk to Peyton before her parents showed up, and he figured they’d be there early to visit her. The night before he had called up to speak with her but the nurse informed him the patient in room 626 hadn’t had her phone turned on. He knew it was because Mr. Kendall didn’t want him calling.

Taking a deep breath, Brandon pushed open the door to Peyton’s private hospital room. It nearly killed him inside to see his love laying asleep on the bed, her leg in a cast. Part of him didn’t want to wake her, but a larger part knew he might not have another opportunity to apologize, at least not soon.

"Peyton?" he said softly, entering the room.

Her heard her groan and watched as her eyelids fluttered open. Her beautiful blue eyes looked tiredly at him, blinking several times before finally focusing. "Brandon? Is that really you?"

"Yep, it’s me."

"Why aren’t you in school? It’s Friday."

"I skipped because of my injuries. Besides, I wanted to see how you’re doing."

"I’m tired. And I’m sore. How about you?" Peyton asked.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. Brandon felt horrible for standing in front of her with barely a scratch on him while she lay in pain in her hospital bed. "I guess I was pretty lucky, or at least that’s what the doctor told me. Just a sprained wrist and twisted ankle." He paused. "Peyton, I want to say again how sorry I am about the accident. I said it last night but I’m not sure if you heard me."

"I heard you, but it’s not your fault. The accident wasn’t your fault, Brandon. It was mine."

"Yours?" Brandon stared incredulously at her. "Why would you think that it was your fault? I was the one driving."

"And you wouldn’t have been driving at all if I hadn’t let Nick drag me into that alley. I’ve been replaying it over and over again in my mind, thinking about what I could have done differently. Maybe if I’d screamed or kicked him or kneed him or–"

"Stop it," Brandon ordered. "I do *not* want you blaming yourself for this, Peyton. I was driving, I take responsibility. End of story."

She saw the look on his face and knew enough not to argue with him. It was a moot point; they could blame themselves until the cows came home but it wouldn’t change what happened. "What happened, Brandon? Why did we crash?"

"I wasn’t paying attention," he admitted. "I was thinking about how badly I wanted to kill Nick for what he tried to do to you and blaming myself because I should have been protecting you. When I looked up there was a deer standing right in front of us. Rather than hit it, I tried to avoid it. But I was going too fast when I turned the bike, and it crashed. I must have been knocked out for a few seconds. I managed to wiggle myself out from under it but I couldn’t lift it off of you. My wrist was too badly injured. So I called nine-one-one on my cell phone. Peyton, I am just glad you’re okay. If anything had happened to you I never would have forgiven myself."

"Well, I’m fine," she reminded him. "A broken leg and a couple bruised ribs is nothing. Although I’m going to have a hard time covering the cast with a pair of jeans." It was a lame attempt at a joke and Peyton knew it.

"Your father doesn’t want me anywhere near you. He made that abundantly clear last night."

She nodded her head. "I know. He told me last night I’m not allowed to go out with you anymore. Luckily, I don’t particularly care what Dad says."

"He’s right."

"No, he’s not. My dad is taking out his insane dislike for your father on you, and it isn’t fair. He never had any control over who I chose to be friends with before. And he still doesn’t."

Brandon looked away, filled with shame. He didn’t deserve her, who was he kidding? "I don’t want you to get into any trouble."

"We won’t get into any trouble if we’re careful."

"I don’t understand."

Peyton smiled slyly. "It’s easy, Brandon. We keep it a secret. Nobody knows we’re friends except us and our parents. Well, and your immediate family, too. Now we’ll just have to keep it lower than low-key so our parents don’t find out we’re still talking to each other. What do you say, can you keep a secret?"

"Yeah, I can." ‘I’m keeping the biggest of my life from you,’ Brandon thought.

***

21

Peyton spent the weekend moping in her bedroom. Ever since she returned home Friday afternoon, she had been bored out of her mind and refused to talk to her parents. Not only had they made it clear they wouldn’t stand for her spending time with Brandon, they turned off her telephone and took away her car. It wasn’t fair, so she treated them to the silent treatment. If they were going to treat her like a child, she wouldn’t speak to them.

When she heard a knock on her bedroom door, she sighed in annoyance. All she wanted to do was finish the rest of her homework and then watch a movie on television, not get a lecture from one or both of her parents. "Go away! I don’t want to talk to either of you."

"What about your best friend?" her visitor asked.

Perking up when she heard Jessica’s voice, Peyton smiled. ‘Finally, someone who’ll see things my way,’ she thought. "Come in, Jessie."

The blonde-haired girl entered the room, her eyes widening when she saw Peyton sitting on the bed, her leg in a cast and several scratches along her cheek. "Oh my god, Peyton."

"You are a sight for sore eyes," the injured teenager commented. "Jess, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. This weekend has been hell."

Jessica closed the door behind her, then carefully sat herself down on the bed next to her best friend. "Are you okay? God, you look like you were run over by a bus."

Peyton rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks for the compliment. Except for my entire body being sore and an itchy leg that won’t *stop* itching, I’m peachy with a side of keen."

"Your parents told me you were in a car accident Thursday night. Why didn’t you tell me?" Jessica wanted to know. "Eric and I were worried when you didn’t show up for school Friday."

"My telephone privileges have been revoked indefinitely," Peyton informed her. "Along with my car, not that I can drive it with a broken leg. Welcome to my even more boring life."

"Are you going to school tomorrow morning?"

She nodded. "Yep, and not a moment too soon. Another day trapped at Casa Kendall and I’d be driven completely out of my mind."

Jessica looked closely at her best friend. Knowing Peyton as well as she did, she could tell something was definitely wrong with her. There was something about the accident she’d been withholding from her. "Okay, what is it, Peyton? I know there’s something you’re not telling me."

"I just don’t...I-I guess I don’t want you to get mad at me."

"Why would I get mad? Over what?"

"The accident." Jessica was going to have a hissy fit when she found out how she’d gotten into the accident. And with whom she’d been in the accident. As much as Peyton wanted to put it off, it would only strain their friendship if she waited. "It wasn’t a car accident, Jessie. It was a motorcycle accident."

Jessica didn’t understand. "Someone hit you with their motorcycle?"

"No. I was riding on the back of the motorcycle," she admitted. "Brandon’s motorcycle."

She let the words sink in for several moments before responding. Swallowing the lump that had formed in the back of her throat, Jessica clenched her jaw. "Brandon? As in Brandon Thurston?" she demanded through gritted teeth.

"Yes."

"My Brandon? God, Peyton, you know how I feel about him! He’s been the object of my affection for, like, ever. How could you betray me like this?"

"It’s not–"

But her best friend interrupted her before she could explain the situation. "I don’t get it. You could have any guy you want. Anyone, don’t you understand that? Guys flock around you, they don’t do that with me. Why did you have to go after the one guy I’ve been in love with for years?"

"He helped me."

"So what, you’re paying him back by riding on the back of his bike? Or are you doing something else to repay him for his protection?" Jessica asked.

Peyton shook her head in disbelief. "Do you think that little of me? You’re my best friend, Jess. You know me better than anyone else in the world, you know I would never offer myself to some guy like that."

"I know you say you want to wait until you’re married to sleep with anyone, but I find it very hard to believe Brandon is only in this for a platonic relationship. His body language just screams ‘Fuck me now!’."

"And let me guess, you want to take him up on that," Peyton replied with a snarky tone of voice. "Trust me, he won’t want to. He’s not like that."

"Since when do you know what he wants?"

"Since we started spending time together. He’s not that type of guy, not anymore. And if you think he is, you are sadly mistaken."

Jessica glared at her. "You want him just as bad as I do. I see it all over your face." ‘I don’t stand a chance with Peyton in the mix.’

"Believe whatever you want to believe. I know how I feel." ‘How do I feel?’ Peyton asked herself.

"Whatever. I’m going home. Visiting you wasn’t such a good idea after all. Guess this is what I get for trying to be a good friend. I get stabbed in the back," Jessica stated as she got up to leave.

***

"What the hell happened to you?" Eric asked his lab partner Monday morning during Chemistry.

Brandon glanced down at the ace bandage covering his wrist. He’d forgotten it was even there. ‘Battle scars,’ he thought. "I had an accident the other day. I hurt it," he responded cryptically.

"Too bad. I guess you heard about Peyton’s accident Thursday night. Some crazed lunatic on a motorcycle ran her over. Broke her leg and cut up her face. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?"

He turned to face his partner, his dark eyes narrowed into paper-thin slits. "Are you trying to imply something, Eric?"

"Me? No, never. It just seems a little coincidental, that’s all. Neither of you were in school Friday. Peyton was in the hospital, so her absence I can totally understand. But what about you?"

"I don’t explain myself to you," he replied. "Maybe I didn’t feel like showing up; maybe I was too tired. It’s none of your business."

Eric laughed. "She’s way out of your league. You’re not good enough for her."

"I think we’ve been over this before."

"Just stating it for the record. She can do better."

"Like Nick Duffy?" Brandon countered. He was tempted to bring up his attack and attempted rape of Peyton Thursday night, but he bit his tongue. She’d never forgive him if he told anyone.

"Let’s just say she can do *so* much better than either of you two."

"Lemme guess. You’re perfect for her."

"I never said that. Just leave her alone. She doesn’t need you fucking things up for her. Peyton has guys lined up around the block who want to go out with her. All of them better are suited for her than you. Why don’t you let her go find her perfect guy."

"What are you afraid of, Eric? That I’ll sweep her off her feet and she’ll fall madly in love with me?" he asked.

Eric shook his head. "You? Sweep her off her feet? Hardly. The only place you’d sweep her would be under your rug once you’ve screwed her."

"Won’t you be surprised," Brandon mumbled too low for his lab partner to hear him. He was even more determined to make Peyton Kendall fall in love with him the way he’d fallen in love with her.

***

22

When she walked into the cafeteria Monday, Peyton did not know what to do. After her fight with Jessica, she doubted her friend wanted to share table space with her for the next half-hour. Looking in the direction of their usual table, she saw Jessica and Eric sitting there, laughing happily. Not wanting to intrude on them, Peyton gripped her crutches tightly and made her way to an empty table.

"Mind if I join you?" a voice asked from a few feet away.

Seeing a shadow fall across the table, Peyton glanced up and smiled upon laying her eyes on Brandon. She hadn’t seen him since Friday when he visited her in the hospital following the accident. He had been the one person she wanted to talk to, and she’d been barred from having any contact with him. "Sure."

Brandon didn’t miss the sparkle in her blue eyes when she smiled at him. It made his heart skip a beat knowing that his mere presence brought that sparkle to her. "How come you aren’t sitting with your friends? You always sit with Eric and what’s-her-name."

‘Oh, Jess would *love* that,’ Peyton thought. ‘Her dream man referring to her as "what’s-her-name".’ "Her name is Jessica. And no, I’m not sitting with them. She and I got into an argument yesterday and needless to say, I decided not to sit with her and Eric today," she explained.

"What did you two fight about?" Brandon didn’t want to seem nosy, but he couldn’t keep himself from asking. Peyton looked so down, he was concerned about her.

She shook her head. "Stupid stuff." ‘Like her petty jealousy over my friendship with you.’ "I don’t really feel like talking about it. Can we please change the subject?"

"Okay. How are you feeling?"

"Still really sore. And I’m not loving hobbling around on crutches. But there’s nothing I can do about it," Peyton complained, taking a bite of her ham and cheese sandwich.

Brandon felt bad. It was all his fault she was in this state. "I can’t apologize enough for the accident, Peyton. I wish there was something I could do for you."

She lifted her head upon hearing his apology. The last thing she wanted to do was make Brandon feel guilty about the accident. "Look, I’m not blaming you. It was just an accident; it’s not like you purposely tried to hurt me. So I want you to stop apologizing for it."

"I tried to call you last night but I kept getting a fast busy signal every time I called," Brandon told her.

"Yeah, my parents decided to punish me by disconnecting my telephone. And I’m also grounded. But they weren’t smart enough to take away my computer."

"Do you still have online access?"

Peyton nodded. "Cable modem. Gotta love technology. So if you want to chat tonight, I’m free around eight o’clock."

"Sounds like a plan to me. I’m not exactly on speaking terms with my parents, so I’m definitely up for a chat."

***

Across the cafeteria, Jessica shot daggers at her best friend and Brandon. She couldn’t believe Peyton would betray her like that. "That just isn’t right," she muttered angrily.

"What are you mumbling about?" Eric wanted to know.

"What do you think? Peyton, my supposed best friend, is practically drooling all over my dream man. It isn’t fair, Eric. He’s mine and she knows it."

He sighed heavily. "I don’t get what the big deal is with Brandon Thurston. Is it the whole bad boy thing? The leather jacket? The motorcycle? What am I missing?"

"It’s just...him. He’s the whole package."

"No offense, Jessie, but I’m thinking you don’t do it for him. That particular bad boy, with his whole package, only has eyes for Peyton. Deal with it," he stated.

Jessica glared at him. "Is that your way of helping? You know, for someone who is hopelessly in love with Peyton, you are taking this quite well."

"Because I trust that she has better sense than to get involved with a jerk like him."

The girl rolled her eyes. Eric had always placed Peyton on such a high pedestal no other girl could possibly reach. "Newsflash about your precious Peyton. She *is* involved with Brandon. She was on the back of his bike when the accident happened Thursday night."

"No way." He refused to believe it.

"Way. Guess she’s not so perfect after all."

"Brandon wants her, Jess. Not you."

"And you’re okay with this?" Jessica asked.

Eric shook his head. "I don’t want to see her get hurt. Brandon isn’t good enough for Peyton, but as long as he keeps his hands off of her, I’m fine with their relationship, no matter how weird I think it is. Maybe you should start sharing that sentiment."

***

"I bet you think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Kendall?" Liz Brady demanded after the final bell rang that afternoon. On their way out of the classroom, the blonde-haired senior cornered Peyton. "You’ve got Brandon falling all over you, turning into your personal lapdog."

Peyton stood up as straight as she could. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don’t play dumb. Everyone in the lunchroom saw him sit with you. Saw you laughing and flirting and all but throwing yourself at him. And we all saw him help you to your locker, carrying your books like some lovesick puppy," Liz said. "So you’ve gotta be thinking you’re pretty damn special. Guess what? You’re not."

"Are you done? I’m gonna be late."

"Then I guess you’ll be even later. I’m here to warn you to stay away from him. Brandon and I are together."

"In what alternate universe?" Peyton asked. "He’s never mentioned you."

The blonde cheerleader fumed. What gave Peyton Kendall the right to speak to her like that? "He’s mine. Always has been, always will be. You can flash your goodies at him all you want, but once he’s done getting his kicks from you, Brandon will be right back where he belongs. With me. In *my* bed." She laughed. "Keep that in mind when he’s pounding you into the mattress."

Once Liz walked away, Peyton let out the a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. ‘Why does it bother me so much to think about her being with Brandon? It shouldn’t. We are only friends.’ Shaking off all thoughts on the subject, she headed for her locker.

She wound her way through the crowded hallway of the high school, trying her best to avoid bumping into one of the many students hurrying off to catch their buses. When she was within seeing distance of her locker, Peyton stopped dead in her tracks. Standing directly in front of it was Nick. Not prepared to face him, she turned around quickly, colliding with Jessica.

"I-I’m sorry," she apologized, her heart pounding in fear. Peyton was afraid Nick had seen her.

Despite her anger with her best friend, Jessica saw the fear in Peyton’s eyes. She couldn’t ignore it. "Are you okay? What’s wrong?"

Looking back, she saw Nick walking in the opposite direction toward the exit. "Nick was b-by my locker."

"Did he say something to you?"

Peyton shook her head. "No."

"Then what is it? Why are you so freaked out?" Jessica questioned.

"Because he...h-he tried to rape m-me Thursday night," Peyton admitted, tears rolling down her cheeks.

***

23

Jessica stared wide-eyed at her best friend’s admission. Any feelings of anger she’d felt left her mind. How could she be mad at Peyton when she was obviously hurting? "He did what?" ‘Not Nick. He may be a lot of things, but I never pegged him for a rapist,’ she thought.

Swallowing the lump in the back of her throat, Peyton looked Jessica in the eye. "He tried to force himself on me Thursday night. That’s the reason I was with Brandon; the reason we got into the car accident."

"What happened?" She led Peyton into an empty classroom for privacy. It wasn’t something they could discuss in the middle of the hallway.

The dark-haired girl took a deep breath upon sitting down. She hated having to tell the whole story again, but Jessica was her best friend. They had always told one another everything. And Peyton felt horrible about keeping secrets from her. "I was walking into Holiday’s and Nick grabbed me from behind and pulled me into the alley next to the club. He just s-started in on me about how I was dressed and what I was doing and who I was...was doing it with. Even implied that I’ve been sleeping around since we broke up."

"Nick should know you’re not like that. He dated you for years!" exclaimed Jessica.

"I-I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. It’s like he’s gone off the deep end since I broke up with him. Harassing me, following me, attacking me...he thinks he owns me or something," Peyton explained.

Jessica bit her lower lip. She hadn’t realized just how far Nick had taken things with Peyton. "I am so sorry, Pey. I-I had no idea he did that."

Peyton sighed heavily. Admitting what she’d been through had been difficult, but it relieved the weight on her shoulders. "The only person I told about this is Brandon. Jessie, I haven’t even told my parents what happened. They totally flipped out over the accident, blaming Brandon for it and refusing to let me anywhere near him. If I weren’t giving them the silent treatment, I would rub it in their faces how much he helped me."

"How did he help you?"

"Brandon’s the one who found me in the alley." She decided to leave out the part about their plans to meet at the club. It would only upset her best friend. "Nick told me I wasn’t worth his time and left me there; all he did was try to take off my jeans. When Brandon saw me, he wanted to take me someplace quiet where I could calm down and we could talk. I’d walked to Holiday’s, so he took me on his motorcycle."

"You hate bikes," Jessica reminded her.

"I know that, and so does he. But I trusted him and he promised to be careful. You know, I don’t even know where we were going. A deer ran in front of us and Brandon had to swerve to avoid it. We crashed. Next thing I know I’m lying on the ground with him holding my hand and saying how sorry he was. All he’s done since that night is apologize to me. It wasn’t even his fault."

"Peyton, I am *so* sorry for jumping to conclusions like I did," Jessica apologized. "When you told me yesterday about the accident, I was hurt and angry at you for being with Brandon, mostly because he’s never given me the time of day. But now that I know you don’t have those types of feelings for him...well, why would someone like you be attracted to someone like him?"

"What do you mean?" she wanted to know.

The blonde shook her head. "Don’t get me wrong, he’s a hottie. It’s just that he’s a misfit, an outcast. A thug, as you’ve put it so many times. You have made it so clear he’s not your type. I can’t believe I ever thought you’d make a play for him. He’s your guardian angel, your bodyguard, though not in the whole Kevin Costner/Whitney Houston kind of way. I don’t have to worry about you trying to land him."

Peyton nodded slowly. "Sure." She was not about to tell her best friend how her feelings were beginning to change.

***

CAN I ASK YOU A QUESTION? Peyton typed that evening when she and Brandon met online. They’d been chatting for the past half-hour.

GO AHEAD. I’M AN OPEN BOOK, he replied.

IT’S KIND OF PERSONAL.

PEYTON, I AM AN OPEN BOOK, Brandon wrote again. YOU CAN ASK ME ANYTHING. VERY LITTLE OFFENDS ME ANYMORE.

She sighed before typing her question, mostly because she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer. ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH LIZ BRADY?

Brandon nearly choked on the chocolate chip cookie he was eating. WHERE WOULD YOU GET AN IDEA LIKE THAT?

FROM LIZ. SHE MADE A POINT OF BRINGING IT UP THIS AFTERNOON. I GUESS SHE SAW US EATING LUNCH TODAY. SHOULD I ASSUME SHE’S LYING? she questioned.

LET’S JUST SAY SHE LEADS A VERY RICH FANTASY LIFE. I WENT OUT WITH HER A FEW TIMES LAST YEAR BUT NOTHING EVER HAPPENED BETWEEN US. I SWEAR.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO EXPLAIN THINGS TO ME, BRANDON. I ONLY WANTED TO KNOW IF SHE WAS TELLING ME THE TRUTH. AND APPARENTLY SHE ISN’T. THAT’S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME, she wrote.

He didn’t want Peyton thinking he had any kind of relationship with Liz Brady, aside from the few times they’d dated last year. She’d asked him out a few times in the past few weeks, but he never said yes. Mostly because of his intense feelings for Peyton. I DO HAVE TO EXPLAIN THINGS. I NEVER SLEPT WITH HER, NOT THAT YOU PROBABLY CARE IF I DID OR I DIDN’T. I HAVE CERTAIN STANDARDS, AND SHE DOESN’T EVEN COME CLOSE TO MEASURING UP TO THEM.

HOW HIGH ARE YOUR STANDARDS? she jokingly asked.

IMPOSSIBLY HIGH THESE DAYS. ALMOST NO ONE ONE CAN MEASURE UP TO THEM. ‘No one except you, Peyton.’

***

24

"Did you hear?" Jessica asked Peyton after school several weeks later, in mid-May.

Peyton closed her locker door, adjusted her backpack and grabbed her crutches. "Did I hear what, Jess?"

"Prom has officially been sold out. All the tickets are gone. Please tell me you got your ticket already. You promised you would get it this week."

"No, I didn’t. I-I’m not gonna go," Peyton answered.

Jessica stared at her best friend, wide-eyed. "Not going? Peyton, are you out of your mind? This is our one and only Senior Prom! You can’t not go. We’ve been planning this since we were freshmen. You, me and Eric were going to rent a limo and spend the weekend camping. Did you forget?"

"Sorry," she apologized. "I decided not to go. Not only do I lack a date, but I highly doubt I will be much fun with a broken leg. I’d just be making a fool out of myself. Besides, who’s going to want to go to their Senior Prom with a girl who can’t even dance?"

"No you wouldn’t be making a fool out of yourself," her best friend argued. "I know for a fact that there are plenty of guys in the senior class who’d love to take you, broken leg or not. Just give me ten minutes, you’ll have a date to the Prom."

Peyton shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks. All I want to do on Friday night is enjoy a quiet night by myself watching cheesy movies."

"I wish you’d rethink this. You can go with Eric, he has an extra ticket and I know he doesn’t have a date yet. Come on, say yes."

"I already made up my mind."

Jessica rolled her eyes. She hated her best friend’s stubborn streak. "Fine. Have it your way." She bit her lower lip. "Hey, is Brandon still your unofficial bodyguard from Nick?"

"Not so much lately, seeing as I don’t go anywhere except school and home," Peyton told her. "But he does keep an eye on me at school. Why do you ask?"

"I was hoping maybe you still talked to him."

She cast her blue eyes to the ground for a moment. If there was one thing Peyton hated doing was lying to her best friend. And she had lied a few moments before when she said she didn’t have as much contact with Brandon as before. Truth was, they spoke all the time. Once her parents returned her telephone privileges, the two of them spoke to each other every night before bed. Peyton discovered she liked having Brandon’s voice be the last thing she heard before falling asleep.

"We say hi to each other in the hall. That’s about it."

"Do you know if he has a date to the Prom yet?" Jessica wanted to know.

Peyton nearly burst out laughing. The Brandon Thurston she knew so well *definitely* wasn’t into proms. Or school events of any kind. But then again, the two of them never discussed it. "Jessie, I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t think Brandon’s the Prom type."

She thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess you’re right." The blonde sighed heavily. "You know, I really wish you’d reconsider your stance on it. We’d have a blast, Peyton. Don’t try to deny it."

"I’m not changing my mind; it’s a moot point. Prom isn’t going to happen for me with a broken leg."

What she didn’t realize was that Brandon stood three feet behind her, having heard her decree. "You’ll get your Prom, Peyton," he whispered. "Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a Prom night you’ll never forget."

***

Sitting on the couch next to his grandmother, Brandon took a sip of Pepsi. He’d been at her house for over an hour under the pretense of an after school visit. For as close as he was to his grandmother, he needed to play the dutiful grandson before revealing his ulterior motives.

Evelyn Thurston, however, knew what her youngest grandchild was up to. "Brandon, would you like to tell me the real reason you stopped by?"

"Huh?" He looked at her quizzically.

"I am not a dumb little old lady," she stated. "I know when I’m being buttered up for something. Besides, you have that look. You know the one I’m talking about, like you want to ask me something but you’re afraid to. Just get on with it."

Brandon took a deep breath. "Do you remember that girl I brought to your birthday party last month? Peyton Kendall?" he asked.

She nodded, a smile curving upon her lips. "I certainly do. Very pretty, very sweet girl. I recall you being quite enamored with her."

‘Enamored is one way of putting it,’ he thought. ‘Hopelessly in love is another.’ "Anyway, she decided because of her broken leg not to go to the Prom."

"The broken leg she got in the accident with you?"

He nodded his head. "One in the same."

"You still feel guilty," his grandmother deduced.

"Yes. I feel like I owe it to her to make sure she gets to experience the Prom. The tickets are sold out, though."

"I can’t exactly help you out with that, Brandon. Why did you come to me for Prom tickets?" she questioned. "Couldn’t you just frighten some poor, scared classmate of yours for a set?"

Brandon sighed. "Grandma, I have no desire to go to my Senior Prom. I don’t fit in with those people, I never did. And Peyton told her best friend today she’s too embarrassed to go to the Prom with her leg in a cast. But I can tell it’s going to kill her not to go, not to get all dressed up and have a Senior Prom. What I want to do is give her one. With your help," he explained.

"So let me get this straight. You want to take Peyton to the Prom, just not with your classmates. A private Prom."

"Yes!" Brandon was relieved his grandmother understood what he wanted to do.

"And you want my help with this."

"If you could make a few calls, call in a few favors, I’d really appreciate it. I want to do this right, and I can’t do it without your help."

One look in her grandson’s brown eyes and she could see how desperate he was. "Okay, I’ll make the arrangements for this Friday evening under one condition."

"What condition?" Brandon skeptically asked.

"I want to know your real feelings for Peyton. You wouldn’t go to all this trouble for just any girl. Is it just a game to get her defenses down? Or is it something more?"

His palms sweaty and hands shaking, he ran one of them through his dark hair, which he’d let grow over the past weeks. "I love her, Grandma. I honestly am in love with her."

***

When the telephone ran Wednesday morning, Mrs. Kendall answered it on the second ring. With her husband out of town covering a story in Los Angeles, she always feared the worst every time the phone rang. "Hello?" she said into the mouthpiece.

"May I speak with Mary Beth Kendall, please?"

"This is her. Can I help you?" The voice on the other end wasn’t one she recognized.

"My name is Evelyn Thurston. I am Brandon Thurston’s grandmother. I believe he is friends with your daughter Peyton."

"Yes?"

Brandon’s grandmother took a deep breath. Mary Beth Kendall seemed rather cold upon hearing who her caller was. "I am calling to ask for a favor. My grandson feels very guilty about the accident he and Peyton were in last month. It is my understanding that you and your husband have forbidden Peyton from having any contact with him."

"We have," Mrs. Kendall stated. "We are looking out for our daughter’s best interests."

"I’m sure you are. But are you aware that she decided not to go to the Prom because of her injuries?"

She shook her head. "Peyton isn’t speaking to us much lately."

‘I wonder why.’ "Brandon doesn’t want her to miss out on such a special occasion and would like, with your permission, to take Peyton to the Prom," Evelyn informed her.

"I don’t know..."

"The high school Prom has already been sold out. What he is asking is your permission to pick up your daughter in my company’s limousine, take her out for a private dinner and perhaps a dance or two. He will have her home by midnight. I have a dress for her to wear, sent special order from a shop in New York by a very prominent designer. Brandon wants to give her a private Prom. All we need is for you to say yes."

Mrs. Kendall furrowed her brow. It was a lot of information for her to digest. "I’m still not sure."

"I’m offering you the opportunity to mend fences with your daughter," the older woman said. "Do you want to be responsible for Peyton missing out on her Senior Prom?"

"No, I don’t. I just don’t know if I trust your grandson enough. Last time they were alone together she nearly died from his recklessness."

"It was an accident, Mrs. Kendall. Everyone has them. I assure you that your daughter will be safe; I will personally take responsibility for her well-being. And I am sure you have reservations about Brandon’s less than stellar reputation."

"Reputation?" she scoffed. "He has more than a reputation."

"I am quite aware of that. But you don’t know him the way I do. He’s changed from that reckless, arrogant boy and has become a responsible young man. Do you know why? Because of your daughter. He cares very deeply for her, *very* deeply."

"Fine."

"So, does Brandon have your permission?"

Against her better judgement, Mrs. Kendall relented. "Yes. Brandon can take Peyton to the Prom."

"I want one more favor," Evelyn Thurston informed her. "Brandon wants this to be a surprise. Please don’t tell Peyton what’s going on."

"All right. I’ll do it for my little girl’s happiness; only because she’s had a rough couple of months."

***

TBC…

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