“I feel like I should confess my sins to you or remind you of the things we’ve done together so you don’t leave. I have so many memories of us, but the most important one has always been the night of your prom. Even though you don’t think so, I was so happy to take you. You were the most beautiful girl in the room that night and every guy wanted to dance with you, but for one moment, you were mine.”
“That night,” Noah pauses and I lean forward, waiting for him to finish. “You asked me to rent a hotel room and I did, knowing exactly what you wanted. What you gave me that night, Peyton, I’ll never forget it. I thought that things would change for us, but days after you were so excited about college that there was no way I could burden you with being with me. I wanted you to experience everything that I had, and now I fear it’s too late. If you can hear me, I’m begging you, please don’t leave me. I don’t know what I can give you in return for staying, but I’ll do anything, just stay.”
“I love you, Noah. That night we spent together was the most magical night of my life. I want to stay. I want to be here with you, I don’t want you to marry Dessie.”
Noah turns toward the door at the sound of my uncle Liam clearing his throat. He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s glaring at his son. Tension fills the room, but neither of them moves from their positions.
“What’d she give you?”
“Um…” Noah doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns his attention back to me.
“You took her virginity, didn’t you?” he asks, and even though I’m not technically here, I feel the scrutiny under his gaze.
“She was eighteen, Dad.”
“That’s very noble of you to wait until she was an adult.”
Noah turns back and looks at me. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Liam comes into my room. He towers over Noah and I. “There isn’t any justification, Noah. You’ve known her all her life. You’re supposed to protect her. She’s a sister to you.”
Noah stands, the force of his movement pushes the chair into the wall of my cramped room. “Don’t,” he says, pointing his finger at his dad. “For as long as I can remember everyone has said Peyton is my sister, but I have never seen her like that. Ever. No one understands the relationship that we have except for us.”
“Noah…”
He holds his hand up. “Please, I asked for a few minutes alone with her. Unlike everyone else, I won’t tell her it’s okay to go. I’m going to remind her why she needs to stay.”
Liam leaves, but not before taking one more look at me. I can tell that this particular conversation isn’t over yet though. As soon as Noah sits back down, his face morphs back into the sad smile he’s been sporting.
“Sorry about that, Peyton. Now where were we?”
“You were about to tell me that you won’t marry Dessie,” I say as loud as my voice will carry, but still he doesn’t hear me.
8
Noah
The smile I wear is forced. There isn’t a single thing I’m happy about right now. Be it, my best friend lies motionless in her bed or the fact my father heard me admit to something only Peyton and I are aware of. I’m assuming she hasn’t told her sister although I've often wondered whether Peyton told Elle about prom night or if Elle asked where we ran off to.
“I can’t believe you came home to take her to prom,” Mom says as she straightens my bow tie. When I called to tell her, she thought I was joking, but quickly realized I was serious. Thing is, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Peyton. I likely would’ve done the same for Elle, but she’s never had a problem getting a date. My friendship with Peyton has always put a damper on her dating life, not that I’m complaining.
“She’s a senior and needs to experience everything.” If I were living back in Beaumont, this wouldn’t even be an issue, but I’ve made Portland my home. It’s easier to stay there, especially with my off-season regimen. After my first year in the league, I felt that I was lacking the right speed and strength to compete at the highest level. My coach was thrilled I recognized I needed improvement and set me up with one of the best trainers in the business. The constant work makes it nearly impossible to visit my parents.
My manager wasn’t very happy when I called and told him that I was traveling home, mainly for the fact that I wouldn’t be readily available for a benefit dinner this weekend. Even with most of the team living in town, many vacationed or went back to their hometowns. Plus, the bigger draw for attendance is always the quarterback. I didn’t even tell him what I was doing while at home, just I wouldn’t be around this weekend.
“Well, Peyton will have the best looking date there.” My mom is biased. But what parent isn’t? For me, escorting Peyton to prom is something I wanted to do five years ago, but with her being thirteen at the time, it wouldn’t have gone over well at all. I hate our age difference. I don’t see her as being five years younger, but everyone else
does and they’re none too shy about reminding me of it. And if it’s not her age, they’re commenting about how she’s my sister. I have never looked at her like a sister. Elle, yes, but never Peyton.
When we were younger, we were always together. But it wasn’t until her father died, did I realize that her pain was my pain. She was losing her dad, while I was gaining mine. What should’ve been a happy time for me was confusing. At first, I was jealous that she attached herself to my dad, but I had done the same thing. While I had Nick, Mason and I were very close, and when he died, Peyton had no one and I knew she needed someone.
I became that someone. I became her protector. Her confidant. She became my best friend. She was, and still is, the one person I will drop everything for, without question, with the exception of Betty Paige. Not even my parents get that sort of attention from me.
And I developed feelings for her, feelings that I’ve had to hide and will continue to hide out of respect for our families, and for Peyton. She has a bright future waiting for her. The last thing she needs is my muddled thoughts deterring her path.
“You look handsome, Noah.” The sound of my little sister’s voice rings out from behind me.
“Yes he does,” my mom says as she stands behind me and straightens my tuxedo jacket, brushing her hands along my shoulders. She’s trying to stay out of the mirror, knowing her reflection will show she’s tearing up. She was a mess when I went to prom back in high school, and deep down I want to believe she understands why taking Peyton is so important to me.