my eyes get a tad misty “Here, let me put it on.” She unclasps it. As I turn around, she flips my hair away so it falls along my shoulder. The elusive movements of her manicured nails tickle the back of my neck. I turn to the mirror. The necklace shines brilliantly.
“Thank you,” I say, holding the stone between my fingers.
She puts her hands on my shoulders and stands behind me. We look at the mirror together. I see my nose, I see my chin, I see my light skin all reflected back to me. Not in my face, but in my mother’s.
“Mom.” I hold her gaze in the mirror. “If you cheated on dad, I’d forgive you.”
She looks down, snapping the reflected sightline.
“I appreciate that, Peyton, but I loved your father very much. I would never have done anything like that.”
I look at the sink’s interconnected tiles, jutting and inserting in an intricate pattern.
“Mom, I—”
“Peyton, I said I wouldn’t have done anything like that. You need to trust me. Come on.” She taps my back. “Let’s go. It’s time to say goodbye.”
Chapter Fifteen
“
He put tampons in my locker
,
Dad.
Like
,
open ones.
He drew faces and put paper clothes on them.
He said my locker was Tamponville.
”
I
covered my mouth with my napkin to hide my grin.
Jen hit my shoulder and frowned
,
but I could see a smile behind her lips as she sipped her wine.
“
Tristan’s always liked teasing you.
You’re like a little sister to him
,”
I
say.
“
Or
,
he’s teasing you because he likes you
,”
Jen said.
“
Tamponville
,
Mom.
Tamponville
,”
Peyton said
,
clutching her armrests.
“
Well
,”
I
said
,
as I tried to be serious.
“
Do you want me to talk to Mr.
McCoy
,
see if Tristan can’t
—”
She sighed.
“
No
,
don’t worry
,
I
already handled it.
”
“
Oh really?
”
Jen’s right eyebrow glided up.
“
Yeah
,
I
made a Padtown in his locker.
Barbie clothes fit really well over panty liners.
”
I
laughed.
Jen shot me a look.
“
That’s not how you handle things
,
Peyton
,”
I
said
,
puffs of laughter still slipping out.
Peyton raised a finger.
“
I
know
,
Dad.
Like you said
,
you’ve got to one-up them.
I
did.
His gym locker is now
,
officially
,
Condomburg.
”
* * *
I’m not surprised when Lisa drops me off at my dorm and Dylan stands ready to pick up where she leaves off. It’s a handoff.
“Is there more stuff to unpack?” he asks. “I can help if you—”
“I got it,” I say, thinking mostly of those infinity boxes.
I’m not sure if I want him to leave, though. Annie’s with her boyfriend, Jason, tonight. I can’t blame her, even if it does make me a little lonely. I shuffle through items and pull a few things out, stuffing them all into the last empty drawer.
“All that stuff goes in that drawer?” he asks, arms crossed and eyebrows very high considering he’s just asking about a drawer.
“It’s my ‘anything goes’ drawer,” I say.
He grins. “You mean like a junk drawer.”
I move a bottle of hand sanitizer and a small purse into the drawer. “No, because it’s not junk.”
“It’s just ‘anything goes,’” he sings and shakes his hands on either side of his head.
“Did you just do jazz hands?” I pause, laughing so hard my stomach hurts.
“Yeah, like the song, isn’t that what you’re referencing?”
“What song?” My laughs continue to hurt, but in a good way. His grin is bashful as he shakes his head.
“It’s a song, I swear, ‘anything goes,’” he sings again, this time with more enthused jazz hands.
“Is the song about drawers?”
“No.” He grins and shakes his head. “No, I’m pretty sure the Broadway song is not about drawers.”
We laugh awhile longer, until I’m biting my lip as we just stand there, staring at each other awkwardly. His smile slips away, and he looks around the room.
“Um, do you want me to make your bed?” he asks.
“Make my bed?” My voice croaks.
“Well, you don’t want me to help you unpack, but
“Thank you,” I say, holding the stone between my fingers.
She puts her hands on my shoulders and stands behind me. We look at the mirror together. I see my nose, I see my chin, I see my light skin all reflected back to me. Not in my face, but in my mother’s.
“Mom.” I hold her gaze in the mirror. “If you cheated on dad, I’d forgive you.”
She looks down, snapping the reflected sightline.
“I appreciate that, Peyton, but I loved your father very much. I would never have done anything like that.”
I look at the sink’s interconnected tiles, jutting and inserting in an intricate pattern.
“Mom, I—”
“Peyton, I said I wouldn’t have done anything like that. You need to trust me. Come on.” She taps my back. “Let’s go. It’s time to say goodbye.”
Chapter Fifteen
“
He put tampons in my locker
,
Dad.
Like
,
open ones.
He drew faces and put paper clothes on them.
He said my locker was Tamponville.
”
I
covered my mouth with my napkin to hide my grin.
Jen hit my shoulder and frowned
,
but I could see a smile behind her lips as she sipped her wine.
“
Tristan’s always liked teasing you.
You’re like a little sister to him
,”
I
say.
“
Or
,
he’s teasing you because he likes you
,”
Jen said.
“
Tamponville
,
Mom.
Tamponville
,”
Peyton said
,
clutching her armrests.
“
Well
,”
I
said
,
as I tried to be serious.
“
Do you want me to talk to Mr.
McCoy
,
see if Tristan can’t
—”
She sighed.
“
No
,
don’t worry
,
I
already handled it.
”
“
Oh really?
”
Jen’s right eyebrow glided up.
“
Yeah
,
I
made a Padtown in his locker.
Barbie clothes fit really well over panty liners.
”
I
laughed.
Jen shot me a look.
“
That’s not how you handle things
,
Peyton
,”
I
said
,
puffs of laughter still slipping out.
Peyton raised a finger.
“
I
know
,
Dad.
Like you said
,
you’ve got to one-up them.
I
did.
His gym locker is now
,
officially
,
Condomburg.
”
* * *
I’m not surprised when Lisa drops me off at my dorm and Dylan stands ready to pick up where she leaves off. It’s a handoff.
“Is there more stuff to unpack?” he asks. “I can help if you—”
“I got it,” I say, thinking mostly of those infinity boxes.
I’m not sure if I want him to leave, though. Annie’s with her boyfriend, Jason, tonight. I can’t blame her, even if it does make me a little lonely. I shuffle through items and pull a few things out, stuffing them all into the last empty drawer.
“All that stuff goes in that drawer?” he asks, arms crossed and eyebrows very high considering he’s just asking about a drawer.
“It’s my ‘anything goes’ drawer,” I say.
He grins. “You mean like a junk drawer.”
I move a bottle of hand sanitizer and a small purse into the drawer. “No, because it’s not junk.”
“It’s just ‘anything goes,’” he sings and shakes his hands on either side of his head.
“Did you just do jazz hands?” I pause, laughing so hard my stomach hurts.
“Yeah, like the song, isn’t that what you’re referencing?”
“What song?” My laughs continue to hurt, but in a good way. His grin is bashful as he shakes his head.
“It’s a song, I swear, ‘anything goes,’” he sings again, this time with more enthused jazz hands.
“Is the song about drawers?”
“No.” He grins and shakes his head. “No, I’m pretty sure the Broadway song is not about drawers.”
We laugh awhile longer, until I’m biting my lip as we just stand there, staring at each other awkwardly. His smile slips away, and he looks around the room.
“Um, do you want me to make your bed?” he asks.
“Make my bed?” My voice croaks.
“Well, you don’t want me to help you unpack, but
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