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“Yeah, well maybe I’m sick of that too.” She threw me a sardonic look.
“Give it some time. Things will—”
Peyton scoffed. “I think we both know the whole give it time thing is a crock of shit. Time might make things easier, but it never lets you forget. And even if you could forget, it would still be inside you like a slow, festering poison.”
She had a point.
I’d been around enough therapists and shrinks to know that childhood trauma shaped you and the person you became. But Peyton was still young. She had her whole life ahead of her to turn things around, to not succumb to the dark thoughts circling her mind.
“Sorry…” Her cheeks pinked. “I didn’t mean to off-load like that.”
“It’s fine.”
It wasn’t, but it was too late for her to take it all back. Besides, she obviously needed someone to off-load on. I guessed the least I could do was listen.
“I’m sure you have better things to do than sit out here with me while I have an existential crisis.”
“Peyton,” I said, “you’ve been through something huge. It’s going to take—”
“Don’t say it. God, please, don’t say it.”
“Fine, I won’t say it.” A faint smile lifted the corner of my mouth. “But it’s true. Just take each day as it comes. And you really should think about talking to someone.”
“I’m talking to you.”
“I mean a professional.” I gave her a pointed look.
“Yeah, I know. But I don’t need a shrink to tell me what I already know.”
“And what’s that?”
Her eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled a sharp breath. When they opened again, her expression softened. “That I’m messed up.”
“Aren’t we all?” My smile grew, a strange sensation tugging in my chest.
“I guess…” Peyton stared back out at the view. “Rixon feels so small compared to this.” She let out a soft sigh.
“You’re a senior. You have the world at your feet.”
“Maybe.”
I didn’t like the resignation in her voice, as if she’d already accepted her fate.
“Come next fall you’ll be off to college and Rixon will be an afterthought.”
“College. Right.” Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug.
“You do want to go to college?” I asked.
“I have to be realistic.” Peyton glanced over at me. “I have no family, no money, and a part-time job at Cindy’s Grill. It isn’t exactly going to pay the bills.”
“You can get financial aid though.”
“It’s an option.” She shrugged.
One she didn’t look convinced about.
“You didn’t go to college?” she asked me.
