Chapter 37: Already Gone

February

In less than a week's time, I've planned a prom-posal to one girl and a marriage proposal to another.

How did my life get so fucked up?

After I talked to Ma yesterday, she walked me into the house and sat me down in the kitchen. Then she disappeared into her room, and when she returned, she was holding a small trunk that she set on the table. She used a little skeleton key to open the lock, then she fished around inside until she found what she was looking for.

She pulled out a ring box in worn velvet, the color of a faded robin's egg. She pushed the box over to me. "It was my grandmother's," she said.

I nodded, staring down at the light blue velvet.

"Well, open it."

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. This shit just got real.

It was a narrow silver band with a single diamond the same size and shape as roofing nail head.

"White gold," she said. "A little over a carat, I think."

I nodded again, swallowed.

"Anyway, John wanted to buy a new ring for Becca when he proposed to her, so it's yours if you want it."

"Thank you." I had trouble getting just those two words out.

So now I'm driving around town with this family heirloom in my truck trying to figure out how the hell to feel right about giving it to Bree.

The worst part is, I need to talk to Peyton, and she won't return my calls or texts.

I know she's probably pissed off and doesn't want to hear from me. But I just can't ask Bree to marry me until I get a chance to tell Peyton how sorry I am for everything. I need her to understand all that happened, so she doesn't go around thinking that I did all this shit on purpose. I need her to know how much I cared about her, how much I still care about her.

She hasn't been at school since Valentine's Day. So, Friday morning, I search the halls for Marshall to see if she's ever coming back or if he's heard why she's been out.

I find him in the library before class. He's hunched over his notes with a couple of dog-eared novels in front of him.

I pull out a chair, and he glances up at me when I sit down.

"Hey," I whisper. "Where's Thomas been?"

He looks back down at his notes. "Why don't you just text her?"

"I did. She hasn't answered. Is she okay?"

He takes a deep breath and picks up one of the books, opening it in front of his face. It's that same book Peyton showed me, All the Pretty Horses.

I tilt my head and angle my line of sight so I can see him behind the novel. "Come on, man. For once, can you just help me out?"

He folds one side of the book down, takes a good look at my face, and sighs. "I really don't know, Chaplin. She won't respond to my texts either. Ever since Valentine's Day, she's been MIA. I have no idea what's going on."

"Maybe I should ask Emma," I say.

Marshall nods. "If you find anything out, let me know," he says, and buries his nose back in the book.

I track down Emma as she's coming out of the gym after morning cheer practice.

"Hey, Jack," she says, smiling. Peyton must not have told her about Bree...or the baby.

"Hey, Em," I say. "Is Peyton okay? She hasn't been at school in a few days."

She takes a deep breath, and her eyes grow wide as she looks away from me at something in the distance. "Wait," she says looking back at me, "she didn't text you or anything?"

I shake my head. The rest of the cheerleaders emerge, so we walk down the hall a way, stopping at her locker.

"Huh, that's weird. You guys were joined at the hip just a few days ago, and now she's ghosting you?" She rolls her eyes. "And she calls me the Drama Queen."

"Yeah, maybe she's mad at me or something."

Emma furrows her brow. "Why would she be mad?"

I shrug. "So what's going on with her?"

"Not sure. My mom made her go back to the doctor. Something about her concussion."

"What's wrong?" I want to kick Cash's ass all over again.

"She's just been super emo. Angry one minute, crying the next. And she won't talk to anyone. Anyway, the doctor said emotional instability is one of the long-term effects, and that she needs to rest some more to help her brain heal or something. If you ask me, she's just milking this shit."

I nod. It always amazes me what a vault Peyton is. She doesn't even let her family see when she's struggling. And apparently, she hasn't told anyone about Bree or the baby. Come to think of it, nobody knows yet. Bree definitely wants to keep it on the down low, and since I never confessed about my feelings for Peyton, much less that I already told Peyton about the baby, I guess I'm off the hook.

For now.

"Anyway, she did say she's going to come to the basketball game tomorrow night to watch me perform. She promised she would. We've been rehearsing for competitions, and Mrs. Cox thought that halftime at the playoff game would be a good trial run."

"Okay, thanks, Em. I'll try to catch her there."

*****

When I tell Bree I plan to go to the game, she immediately asks to come along. Not sure how to get out of this one.

"I'd love to come with you, to see all my friends on the squad perform," she says.

"Yeah, but, they all think you transferred. How are you gonna explain your sudden appearance?"

She shrugs. "I'll just say I'm visiting for the weekend."

I nod. Nope, not getting out of this one.

When I pull into the lot of the trailer park later that evening, it's sleeting again, and ice is starting to form on the rutted blacktop. I go to the door so I can walk her to the car. Wouldn't want her to slip and fall.

She's bundled up in a long white puffer coat with a fur-lined hood, her cheeks glowing pink in the cold. I open the passenger door and help her inside.

When I come around and open the driver door, she's staring down into the ring box.

Fuck! I forgot I left it sitting there in the cubby hole next to my wallet.

I'm such a fucking moron.

She looks at me with tears in her eyes and whispers one word. "Yes."

I just stare at her in disbelief. Then I nod, climb into the seat, and start the engine. I sit there for a minute in a daze.

She cranks up the heater.

I feel her studying my face as I stare blankly at the steering wheel.

"That wasn't how I intended to propose," I finally say. "I hope you know that."

She takes my hand and squeezes it. "It was perfect," she says quietly. "I don't need a parade."

"I didn't even get down on one knee," I say, shaking my head.

"Chap," she says, "look at me."

I gaze over at her face. She's beaming. "I don't care. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that we're making a commitment. To each other. To this baby." She takes my hand and places it over her belly. "Do you feel it moving?"

I don't feel anything but a slight roundness.

I nod my head yes anyway.

We're losing thirty-two to forty at the half. Peyton's sister and all the varsity cheerleaders come out to do their thing. The JV squad is on the first row of the stands sitting with Mrs. Cox who seems to be scrutinizing the varsity performance for flaws. Cheer competitions start soon, so I guess she's upping their stakes.

Bree takes my hand and leads me to the front of the bleachers, stopping to hug Mrs. Cox.

"Bree! What are you doing back?" she exclaims.

"Just missed my guy," Bree says, putting her arm through mine.

Mrs. Cox looks at me warily and gives me a fake smile.

There's no way she didn't hear from at least one of her cheerleaders about me dating Peyton and the whole scene in the hallway when I asked her to prom.

"You two make such a perfect couple. So glad to see you're back together."

Bree's eyebrows stitch together as she processes that comment, but she quickly recovers. "Yes, it's nice to be home."

I stand there like a complete idiot. How did this shit get so out of control?

Then, Mrs. Cox spies Bree's hand. "Bree Barnes!" she squeals. "What is that on your finger?"

Bree blushes. "Jack asked me to marry him." Then she turns to me and bats her eyelashes.

Mrs. Cox blinks her eyes wide open. Then she fakes another smile and says, "well, congratulations, you two."

I swear to God, she's giving me the most evil death-stare I've ever seen.

I feel like I need to do some serious damage control. I don't even know where to begin. I scan the stands, looking for Peyton. My eyes stop when they land on Marshall. Peyton is sitting next to him, almost huddled, and her eyes are locked on me and Bree.

She seems to take a deep breath, then gets up, and starts walking toward the exit.

I turn to Bree. "I'll be right back," I whisper.

Then I follow Marshall who has followed Peyton out the gym doors.

As I'm exiting, I run smack into a bunch of guys at concessions.

"Congrats, man," Lundy says, shaking my hand.

How do they already know?

"Thanks, Ryan. Appreciate it."

Ryan's gaze fixes on something over my shoulder, and then he looks quickly back to me. He clears his throat. I follow his line of sight and make eye contact briefly with Peyton before Marshall ushers her away.

He's holding her by the hand. I follow them as he pulls her along, down the hall, and out the back doors into the parking lot. She breaks away from his grasp and starts sprinting. When I catch up to Marshall, he turns to me in the mist that flies through the air, backlit by streetlamps.

"What the fuck did you do to her, Chaplin?"

I put my hands over my face and shake my head. "I didn't mean to hurt her," I say, pulling my hands away. "I don't want to lose her."

He levels a hard glare, looking me in the eye.

"Well," he says softly turning his eyes to where she disappeared in the distance. "I'd say she's already gone."