Maybe I'm the One You Like

If you asked me a week ago, a month ago, hell, if you asked me five years ago, I would never tell you that I’ve been wrong. About anything. I would never admit to such a thing. And even if I was wrong about something, I probably wouldn’t fess up and admit it. I wasn’t like that. I wasn’t like that at all.

Yet for some reason, I found myself standing on Peyton’s front step ringing the door bell, praying that no one would answer so I could just go home with the notion that I at least tried. After a moment I concluded that no one besides Peyton was home, and I still made an effort anyway, and that was good enough for me-

"Hello Alex," Mrs. Arnette said as the door swung open. "How can I help you, sweetie?"

Luck was not on my side today, evidently.

"Um, is Peyton home?" I mumbled, scratching the back of my neck. Of course she was home, Alex, you dumbass.

"She is, didn't you see her on the bus?"

“N-no, I drive to school.”

"Oh, I see. That’s nice to know that if Pey misses the miss she’s got back-up,” Mrs. Arnette joked.

"I guess," I muttered. Fuck. "Can I see her?”

"She's up in her room. Right at the top of the stairs."

I nodded at bolted up the stairs, trying to get away as soon as possible. Her room was easy enough to find; the neon purple fuzzy ‘P’ hanging on the door was a dead giveaway. I knocked on the door softly before opening it.

"Peyton?" I said softly as I stepped into the room. It was a typical girl’s room, purple walls, pictures of bands plastered everywhere, several boxes still piled under the window. After a quick sweep of the room I found Peyton sitting on her bed, glaring at me as if I were the devil. Her eyeliner was a bit smudged and her hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She had also thrown on a dark blue hoodie over her shirt that looked to be about three sizes too large. I shifted my weight to my other foot and hesitantly waved. “Hi,” I mumbled.

"Get out," she sniffled.

"Peyt, I-”

“Get OUT.”

“I just wanted to-”

“Get the fuck OUT,” she roared, and grabbed a book off her nightstand, chucking it at my face.

“Watch it!” I snapped. “God dammit, I’m trying to be nice to you and you’re not even giving me a fucking chance!”

“You’re an asshole,” she glared. “You need to leave.”

“But-”

“What are you even DOING here?”

“I don't really know," I said honestly. "But I feel like I should make sure you're, um, okay."

"Save your breath." She sniffled again and reached across for another book.

“Woah, okay, stop,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. “Let’s not blow this out of proportion.”

"You know, I can handle being the new girl," she muttered. "I expected people to talk about me. Oh look, who’s that girl? I’ve never seen her before. Blah, blah, blah. I’ve already heard it. But what I can't tolerate is you calling me fat."

"What! When did I say that!" I exclaimed. "You're putting words in my mouth!"

"You keep talking about food and how I keep eating, Alex! Do I honestly look that huge?” She crossed her arms and seemed to shrink into the pillows on her bed.

“Of course not!” I groaned. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize-“

“No shit you didn’t realize.”

“Well, you know that you’re fucking skinny, right?” I mumbled, racking my brain for something to say so she’d feel better. “I mean, you’re attractive, there’s no denying that. You really think I, the most shallow asshole at our school would think a fat girl was hot?” I put my face in my hands and groaned as soon as the words slipped out, surprised at myself at how true and awful that sounded.

“I guess not...” Peyton shrugged. “Just...please stop. I can’t take your shit on top of everything else.” She looked up at me and I nodded.

“Okay,” I nodded. “I’m sorry. Truce?” I held out my hand to her and after a moment, she hesitantly shook on it.

“Whatever, Alex. Truce.”

“Good.” I down on her bed, bouncing a couple of times before kicking off my shoes and getting comfortable. Peyton rolled her eyes and tried to push me off, but I held my ground and she gave up pretty quickly. She was pretty cute when she wasn’t busy hating me. “So this is your room,” I observed. She nodded.

“We painted it a few days ago.”

“That’s cool. ” We sat in silence for a moment until my phone went off. I saw that Jack was calling and picked up immediately. “Yeah?”

“Party,” Jack replied. “You in?”

“Most definitely,” I grinned. “When and where?”

“Half an hour. Eliza Thompson’s place. I’ll pick you up.” Jack hung up and I turned to Peyton quickly. “I’ve gotta go,” I told her, jumping off her bed and slipping my feet back into my shoes.

“Where’s the fire?” Peyton smirked. “You’re acting like this is the last party you’ll ever attend.”

I scoffed and zipped up my hoodie before rolling my eyes. “I like the unwind during the week sometimes, okay?” I whined. “High school is hard. You can-“ I bit my lip to stop the words from escaping, but it was too late. “You can come, if you want.”
Peyton shook her head. “Pass,” she grumbled, and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay well, it’s at Eliza Thompson’s house over on Craig Ave, I’ll be there if you change your mind. Slutty outfit required,” I retorted as I ran out the door. Peyton and I may have declared a truce, and might even have begun somewhat of an almost-friendship, but that didn’t mean I would deny the chance to see her barely clothed.

--

“Party, party, where’s the alchy?” Jack sang as he danced around the kitchen holding his beer, already drunk. Eliza’s house was packed wall to wall with people, most of whom I recognized from school, although there were some that I didn’t. I looked around the room from where I was posted on the kitchen counter and my eyes gazed over all the girls dressed as if it were a Saturday night at the club, instead of a Thursday night in the suburbs. There was something about week night parties that made them all try twice as hard, and I was living for it.

“Where’s Meg?” I asked Jack, once I realized he had been wandering around the party solo, with the exception of a few fist bumps from guys from school or the random conversation with Rian or Zack, who were seemingly nowhere to be found at this point.

“She didn’t want to come,” Jack slurred, tossing back the rest of his drink and then throwing his empty can into the sink. “She said she didn’t want to be hungover at school tomorrow, a.k.a. she’s being a little bitch.”

I laughed and jumped down from the counter, grabbing two jello shots from the cooler on the floor. “Here’s to us then, bro.” I handed him a plastic cup and we both downed them, grimacing at the cheap liquor that was poorly mixed with the jello. I was about the reach down and grab another when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hey Gaskarth.” I turned around to see Eliza herself standing behind me, wearing nothing more than a pair of skin tight jeans and a black crop top. My less-than-subtle onceover did not go unnoticed, and she smirked before crossing her arms and causing her barely there shirt to dip down a bit lower.

“Great party,” I muttered, distracted by her outfit. She smirked again and stepped closer.

“I always throw good parties, Gaskarth.”

“True, true. I just make it that much better.” I inched closer to her overly glossed lips, slipping my arm around her. The alcohol coursing through my veins made my vison blur a bit as her lips came even closer to mine.

“Agreed,” she breathed as she leaned in and kissed me roughly, tangling her fingers into my hair. We got to making out and in the blur of it all I pulled up the stairs searching for an empty bedroom to use. I wasn’t about to waste this opportunity.

--

Peyton’s POV.

It was weird of Alex to apologize to me. Him, of all people. It’s weird that we were civil to each other for once. Granted, it was for maybe two seconds, but it was a start, right? Normally, he’s a jackass and I bitch at him and we hate each other and move on. But for a moment there, we actually acted like friends. Until his friend called him and he left to go to a party.

But he had invited me to said party, and that was something friends do, right?

Now he’s probably hooking up with another girl this party, and I’m alone at home, in an unfamiliar town that I was forced to move to. I had no friends, just someone that wants to get in my pants.

But that could be taken as flattery, right? He wants to hook up with me and therefore I must not be as disgusting as I thought. Or maybe he just hasn’t seen all my flaws yet.

I stood up and looked at myself in the full length mirror, examining every inch of my body. Why did I even care what Alex thought? Contrary to what he told me, I wasn’t the skinniest girl at school. I could drop a few pounds. And come to think of it, I did eat a lot at dinner tonight. That couldn’t stay in my body and make me look bigger. That had to change. Even my dad’s old giant sweatshirt that usually does a pretty good job of hiding everything I hated, just wasn’t cutting it.

I made sure my parents weren’t upstairs before I snuck into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I hated doing this to myself. I knew it was a bad idea from the very first time I tried. But after one last look in the mirror, there was simply no other option. It had to be done. I just tried not to let the tears blur my vision too much as I lifted up the toilet set.

Notes

Is anyone reading this? How am I doing?