Peyton brought ice cream. Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia for me, and plain old Vanilla for himself. He wasn't much for sweets, so he only took a few unenthusiastic bites before setting his down on the nightstand beside him.

I propped myself up on my elbow and motioned across him. "Can I have the rest of yours if you're not going to eat it?"

We were back on the bed, watching the final act of "Gone with the Wind." Well, I was. He was pretending to watch while discreetly scrolling through sports scores on his phone.

Carefully balancing the computer on his lap, he reached for the ice cream and passed it over to me. "I don't know how you do it," he said.

"Do what?" I mumbled absently, the spoon bobbing up and down against my mouth as I spoke.

"Eat that much junk and still be thin."

I held back a sigh. How little he knew. I was thin because I didn't eat regularly or in big portions, especially when school was out of session. Then I did manual labor in the hot sun for six hours a day.

My mom paid the RV Park fees and that was it. I know that my daddy had left me his money, but she'd spent it all within the first year she got me. Now, I was on my own for food, clothes, spending money and everything else.

But it wasn't just the money that kept me from eating regular meals. It was the logistics. Our tiny kitchenette only had one working burner and the microwave to prepare food in. My mom rarely bothered to go grocery shopping. Once in a while, she lets me borrow her car to go to the store where I would buy as many microwavable meals as our mini fridge could hold. But the schedule was irregular, the freezer was small, and eventually I'd run out. Oftentimes, I literally survived on saltine crackers, canned soup and tap water.

People never really thought about things like that - not unless you've lived it. Someone like Peyton definitely wouldn't even begin to imagine such a reality existed in America.

Moments like these between us frustrated me to no ends. I couldn't tell him the truth for two reasons. One, it's fucking pitiful, and I don't want anyone's pity - not even his. And two, he would try to fix it, and it wasn't his problem to fix.

Pride is a sin. I know that. Grandma Danner had hammered it into my head since I was in diapers. But it was all I had left in the world and I meant to hang onto it.

So I mumbled something incoherent at him and shoveled more ice cream into my mouth. I felt him staring at me, waiting for an answer, but he wasn't going to get one.

"I like it," he said finally. "Most of the other girls I know don't eat anything but salads and waste all their time thinking about clothes and makeup and stupid things like that."

I expelled an exasperated sigh and looked at him. "Peyton, If I had the time and money, I'd wear pretty clothes with matching shoes, make my hair look nice and wear makeup and jewelry too," I snapped.

He seemed surprised at the revelation, frustrating me further. "Would you really?"

"Of course I would," I said. Annoyed, I clapped my hand over his mouth. "Shhh. This is the best part. Look how gorgeous Vivian Leigh looks here. Wait for it... wait for it... now!"

I sighed with pleasure as Scarlett O'Hara walked into Melanie Wilkes' home in that red dress, holding her head up high and giving that I-don't-give-a-fuck look to all the people who whispered about her.

Peyton glanced at the screen. "She's alright. But I prefer my women blonde," he said, giving a lock of my hair a light tug.

I rolled my eyes at him, but when I looked at him, he was looking down at me looking hike he was going to lean down and kiss me. My heart hammered against my ribcage.

Oh god. Yes baby. Right there.

Heather-Lynn, my neighbor, chose that very awkward moment to start her moaning. I bit my lip and turned the laptop's volume to maximum. I stole a glance at Peyton - he was now staring intently at the screen, pretending he hadn't heard.

Oh Baby, baby, you get me so hot.

That was Jed, Heather-Lynn's other half. They said the same things to each other Every. Single. Night. In another minute, the inevitable creaking and grunting would begin.

Fuck me baby, pound me until I can't walk straight no more.

She didn't just stop there. No, she described exactly what she wanted Jed to do to her in excruciating detail. My face turned bright red as her words grew more and more explicit, until I fully expected my face to simply go up in flames. I really wanted to see what Peyton was doing, but I couldn't bring myself to look.

Peyton shifted his legs and scratched his head. For the next few minutes, Heather-Lynn's moaning and screaming got louder and louder as we both lay there pretending that this wasn't happening.

Then Jed began to do what Heather-Lynn wanted him to do, and our bed shook along with theirs. If I was alone, this was the part where I tried to pictur, and eventually marveled, at the execution of their feat. Jed was as morbidly obese as they came. Heather-Lynn was no more than skin and bones. But somehow, some way, he was doing her hard and fast enough to make Peyton's and my heads bounce against the headboard.

We sat there for another minute in an excrutiatingly awkward silence, feeling each of Jed's thrusts against our backs. Heather-Lynn's cries were getting frantic when Peyton finally spoke. "I can't believe she's dragging Jesus into that mess," he said.

I cracked up and looked at him. He smiled back. "Let's get out of here," he said.

***

Getting out of the trailer was interesting.

I'm tall. He's taller. Me on his back resulted in him having to double over to keep my head from bashing through the flimsy roof. To complicate things, he had my backpack slung over his neck, throwing him off balance.

"Watch my ankle!" I shrieked as it brushed the side of the table. Subconsciously, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back.

He grunted. "Stop jostling me, I'm not going to drop you or hit you against anything as long as you stop squirming."

"You just did!"

"No, you just did," he said, taking the final few steps toward the door. "Forget about it and open the door."

I leaned forward and pushed the door open, his hair soft and fragrant against my face. The night was hot and sticky. Immediately, I felt moisture form where my bare skin made contact with his. The crooks of my arms against his neck, his arms against my thighs, his hands against the backs of my knees.

He barreled through the door, determined to get through before it slammed back on us. I ducked my head into his shoulder to keep my head from hitting the frame, and in my adrenaline rush, bit down on his shoulder.

Peyton stopped dead in his tracks.

"Did you seriously just bite me?" he asked, his tone incredulous. When he craned his neck to look at me, his expression was so dubious that I started laughing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," I said, rubbing at the spot I'd bitten.

"I'm pretty sure you broke skin," he said.

"I did not!"

"Nope, pretty sure you did."

I pulled his collar to the left to expose the skin. The skin was red, the imprints of my upper and lower teeth clearly marking it.

"Oh wow, I didn't realize I bit that hard," I said, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"You should be, it really hurts a lot - are you sure it's not bleeding?"

I rubbed furiously at the spot again. "Oh my god Peyton, I'm so sorry, you know I didn't mean it don't you?"

He laughed hard. "I'm kidding, it doesn't hurt. I just like to see you squirm."

I smacked his shoulder and laughed. Then tickled him by poking at the sides of his body until he squirmed and begged me to stop.

A pair of bright headlights in our faces made us both look up and squint. The laughter died on my lips.

Jake. Well, his car. It was making the turn into our street and my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.

****

Jake's gaze met mine through his windshield. I held it, fully aware that desperation was etched clear on my face, but I didn't care. I must've tensed up my body because Peyton turned his head to glance at me before turning his attention back to the car.

It was dark outside, the moonlight hazy from being shrouded by wispy clouds. Most of the streetlights were broken or dimming out, but I became aware of the moment Peyton recognized Jake because I felt his body stiffen beneath me.

Jake killed his engine and took his sweet old time stepping out of his truck. I held my breath. Peyton remained rooted to the ground.

I licked my lips and willed my mind to come up with a solution to this problem. I was still drawing a blank when Jake slammed the car door shut.

He stood a moment, looking at us, then the oddest thing happened. Peyton and Jake stared at each other as if I had simply vanished from the situation. The air became charged, tense, and strained, and I sensed that there was more to whatever was between them than me.

Jake slipped his keys into the pocket of his jeans and started walking toward us in that way of his, all quiet confidence, grace, and swagger.

The dying streetlight flickered above us, its reflection glaring off the hood of Peyton's car.

Twenty feet. Fifteen, ten.

Just as I was opening my mouth to greet him, Jake turned and trotted up the steps to Shana's trailer and rapped on the door. I exhaled, conciously keeping Peyton from sensing my relief.

From inside the trailer, Cadence let out a piercing wail. Shana burst through the door, looking mad as hell. Her expression quickly changed to surprise when she saw Jake standing there. But she recovered quickly, her eyes flitting from Jake, to me and Peyton, then shifting quickly back to Jake as understanding dawned. "Jakey!" she cried.

She was clever like that.

"You're late," she said. "What in hell took you so long?" She stepped aside, giving Jake room to pass. "Come in."

They had to do a little shimmy because of her jutting belly, but he managed his way in. Shana nonchalantly - too nonchalantly? - reached out to close her door. She raised her head at the last minute and her eyes widened as if she'd just noticed us standing there.

Take it easy Shana...

She grinned, her eyes making two perfect little rainbows on her face. "Hiya Layla," she said, waving. "And Layla's gorgeous friend!"

Limply, I waved back, and I think Peyton smiled.

Jake called out to Shana about the wailing baby so she waved again, shut the door and disappeared, leaving us alone in the night again.

*** Thank you for reading! PLEASE vote and comment if you like the story ^_^***