Page 23 of Breakout (Walker University #3)

sixteen

I have never felt so miserable in my life.

It’s a lie, of course. Every month I feel this way because Eve decided to eat that damn apple. Or whatever the real reason is.

It’s the one day a month my boss knows I will need off even if scheduled. Thankfully, I’m pretty regular, so we can usually plan it right.

It’s not that I become incapable of doing anything when I start my period. I still pull myself out of bed to go to class, but the first day is so agonizing that work would be nearly impossible with me having to stay on my feet.

I tried once. My boss said it looked like all the blood was drained from my face. Not far from the truth, I suppose.

My phone rings, making me groan. I see Beckett’s name on the screen.

“Hey,” I mumble into the phone.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You sound off,” he asks.

“It’s my period.”

It’s the same thing I tell him every month.

Tears fill my eyes as I realize this means I won’t see him for the next four to five days.

It’s irrational for me to get emotional.

It’s the rules I’ve put in place that keep him away.

I did it to myself, but in this moment, all I want is him to come hold me.

To not have to suffer through the pain alone for once.

I don’t voice that, though.

“Oh, it’s that time of the month. That’s okay. You need anything?”

I should say yes. He would come. That’s the kind of guy he is, but the part of me that refuses to be a burden on anyone else won’t let me.

I sniffle. “No, I’m okay.”

He’s silent a moment.

Please call me on my bullshit. Please.

Mentally I’m begging, but it’s futile. As much as I want him to, Beckett cannot read my mind.

“Okay. Call me if you change your mind,” he says.

“I will. Bye.”

I hang up the phone, letting the tears fall.

Why am I like this?

I hate feeling emotional and out of control, yet once a month nature reminds me that it can take over my body and make me feel things I’d rather push down.

Like the disappointment that Beckett isn’t here. Or the fact that even though we are married for real, I want this fake relationship to go far beyond our arrangement. I want forever.

I won’t get it, though. I never do.

Wiping my eyes, I curl back up in a ball and let my eyes fall closed. I must fall asleep because I startle awake when there is a knock at the door.

I don’t move right away, hoping they will go away, but a more persistent knock comes.

“I’m coming,” I mumble, stumbling out of bed.

Looking down, I realize I look like a mess. I’m wearing an oversized sweatshirt, no bra or shirt underneath, and a pair of sweatpants.

Whoever it is, is about to get a very cranky Peyton.

Flinging the door open, I’m ready to cuss out whoever decided to knock on my door, but I’m stopped when I see Beckett standing there with several bags in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, the emotion from before creeping back in.

“I wanted to check on you. Hey, are you okay? You’re crying.” He pushes into the room, setting all his bags down as he pulls me into his arms.

I start sobbing, unable to stop myself.

“Shh. It’s okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he whispers against the side of my head between kisses he places there.

I let him hold me as I struggle to pull myself together. When I finally do, I pull back and look up at him. He wipes away my tears before cupping my face.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

I nod.

“Anything I can do to make it better?”

My voice raw with emotion, I choke out., “You already are.”

He places a kiss on the tip of my nose before helping me back into bed. “You lie there. I got everything you need.”

Then he grabs one of the bags and starts setting things on my desk.

“Tampons. These are the ones Grace uses, so I hope they are the same ones you use, but if not, I can go get the right ones. Nighttime pads. Grace keeps these under the sink, so I figured they were a good product. Menstrual pills. Electrolyte packets. Water. Chocolate. Popcorn. Chips. Fruity candy. And a heating pad.”

“You did not have to go buy all of that. You are over the top, Beckett Hayes,” I tell him, a smile on my face.

“You’re my wife. I promised to take care of you in sickness and health. Honey, I’m keeping my word.”

I shake my head. “Thank you.”

“Oh, that’s not it. That’s just from the store. Then I went to Pedro’s Cantina and got your favorite tacos and that little tres leches cake you love.”

My mouth waters as he mentions the food.

I swear he makes it easy to fall for him. I should be keeping my distance. Protecting my heart, but instead I never want him to leave.

“You want to stay and watch a movie?” I ask him shyly.

This isn’t our MO. We don’t just hang out together.

“That was the plan.” He picks up my laptop, handing it to me. “Pick one out while I set up our food and your heating pad.”

“I have one of those, you know,” I tell him.

He shrugs. “I didn’t know, and the store associate said this was the best one.”

I quickly pull up a rom-com about a couple fake dating for their mutual friends’ wedding. I don’t know why I picked that one, but it feels right. Then I make room for him behind me on my bed as I set the laptop on the corner of my desk so we can both see it.

He hands me my food, then places the heating pad on my lower belly. When he climbs into bed with his own food, I can’t help but enjoy how domestic it all feels.

Is this what my parents had?

My heart jolts at the thought. I don’t think about them too much anymore. It usually brings me too much pain, but it feels right tonight.

We finish eating, Beckett getting up to clear away our food. He offers me my cake, but I turn it away, telling him to put it in my fridge. When he climbs back into bed with me, I turn over onto my stomach.

“What are you doing? That cannot be comfortable,” he tells me.

“It’s the only way for the heating pad to really relieve my cramps. I need the pressure.”

He scoffs. “Turn on your side.”

I do as he asks, facing my desk. He nestles in behind me, his arm coming down over the heating pad, giving me the pressure I need.

“Is that good or do you need more?” he whispers into my ear.

“No. That’s good.”

Then he holds me like that. I don’t know how long because I fall asleep, but when I wake up sometime later, he’s still wrapped around me as my computer screen is dark with no sunlight filtering through the windows.

The heating pad has grown cold from the timer, but his arm still holds it into place.

Instead of questioning it, I burrow in deeper, holding his arm to me as I let myself fall back into a blissful sleep.

“Where were you last night?” Brett asks as he laces his shoes up next to me as I do the same with my skates.

I hate that I can’t tell him the truth. Instead, I have to make up yet another lie. It’s the only thing about this whole thing with Peyton that I wish I could change.

“I went for a drive.”

He frowns. “Is it your father again?”

My father. Usually the root of all of my problems. He actually is still bothering me. I’ve just stopped answering his calls. I only have a few months left here. The worst he can do is stop my allowance, but I’d survive.

“Something like that,” I mumble.

He sighs. “I get it, man. You have this whole life ahead of you, and then BAM! Something comes and changes all the plans you thought you made.”

“What’s that mean?” I ask him, aware that this isn’t about me.

“My life isn’t going like I want it to,” he admits as he straightens up to give me his full attention.

I do the same, looking around to see if anyone is paying attention to us. Everyone is slowly filtering out to the rink like we are supposed to do.

I won’t push this off another time, though. If he is ready to talk, fuck practice. Some things are more important.

“Is it about the injury? I know it sucks, but you have another year to show the scouts what you’ve got. I’m sure you will still be drafted.”

“Do I even want to be drafted? Do I want to play for a team with strangers? Sure, I love playing hockey, but I mostly love it because I get to play it with all of you.”

“What are you saying, man? You played with another team before college. It will be just like that.”

“Not really. I played with another team, but I never grew close to them. Not the way I have you guys. You and Clay are leaving at the end of the year. I get at least another year with Kel and Wyatt, but it won’t be the same.”

“It won’t be, but that’s okay. That’s how life works. We always knew we wouldn’t be drafted together. Honestly, with Clay and me being drafted first, you have a better chance of ending up on a team with us.”

“Is that what I really want, though? Is it what is best for me?”

I frown. “Where is this coming from, man? You haven’t been your happy-go-lucky self lately. What prompted this?”

He shrugs. “Life changed. I gained a new perspective. Now I need to figure out what I want to do with it.”

He stands, so I do too. I pull him into a hug.

“What are you doing?” He tries to push me away.

“Nope. You hug us when we are upset, so just accept it. You get hugs too. Bring it in, man.”

He fights it for a moment longer before giving in and hugging me. When we pull back, I pat him on the shoulder.

“I don’t know what brought on this new perspective, but all you need to do is choose a path that will make you happy.

It doesn’t have to be the same path you have been on.

If there’s a fork and you want to abandon the old one, then do it.

No matter what, we will be here at your back supporting you as we always do.

You’re my brother. No matter where life takes us, that will never change.

Time and distance can’t touch it. Got it? ”

He pushes my shoulder. “You sound like a chick now. Is that what you’ve been off doing? Learning how to sound more like a chick? I don’t think that will help you get laid.”

He chuckles, making me laugh too. He sounds a little bit more like himself, which is all I wanted. We start out to the rink, still chatting along the way.

“I forgot toxic masculinity says we can’t tell our friends we love them. Fuck them. I love you, Brett. I’m not scared to tell the world.”

“Oh god, are you professing your love for one another? It would explain so much,” Clay jokes.

“You know it. Brett and I are attached at the hip. Isn’t that right, buddy?” I wrap my arm around him, making him push me away.

“You’re so messed up in the head, man. Get on the ice.”

He walks away, heading over to the coach as the rest of us warm up on the ice.

“Everything good?” Clay asks.

“I think he’s coming to terms with the fact that his future isn’t as easy as it seemed prior to the accident,” I admit, keeping my voice low.

“I’ve been worried about that. He has his cast off now and everything, but he still hasn’t gotten on skates. The doctor cleared him two weeks ago,” Clay tells me.

I look at him, shocked. I had no idea he had gotten the all-clear.

“Yeah, that’s how I felt when Coach told me before practice today. I’m worried about him.”

“Me too. He hasn’t been himself. I feel like shit that I haven’t been around as much. I don’t want him to feel abandoned.” I let out a sigh.

“Don’t feel bad. You obviously have your own shit going on. Don’t think I don’t notice all the times you disappear. I’m worried about you too, but at least you don’t seem depressed. He seems like he is losing his spark.” Clay looks over at Brett talking with Coach, so I do too.

“You don’t need to worry about me. Everything is going well in my life for once. We need to do a guys’ night or something. Maybe that will help get Brett to open up about whatever is eating at him.”

He nods. “I’ll arrange it.”

“Are you two ladies going to keep gossiping, or can we get moving already?” Coach calls out, ending our conversation.

As we start our drills, I keep an eye on Brett. Whatever is going on with him, I meant what I said. We will have his back.

I only hope he lets us.