though he was angry because my mom was his favorite aunt.”
I watch as the pain returns to Peyton’s eyes. It’s so strong that the sorrow reflects back to me.
“I know you don’t like people to say it, but I’m sorry, Peyton. I really am.”
“It’s all right,” he whispers with hurt in his voice.
“Have you ever thought of speaking to someone about this? I mean, you’ve experienced a lot of hurt, and I know that it’s hard for you to deal with it sometimes,” I risk saying.
He looks up at me with anger. It’s a look I have never seen on his face before. I am scared.
“Have you ever thought about talking to someone about Tyler?” he asks with a raised voice.
“Peyton, calm down. It was just a question! And, yes, I have. It’s not so bad to speak with someone. I think it’s great that you confide in me and I’m glad we can be there for each other, but we may need more.”
I’m afraid to speak anymore. His look is like ice.
Cold and hard
.
“I mean, with everything that’s happened with Karson, your mom, and now your dad, Peyton, you really should—”
“Taylor, will you shut the hell up?” he shouts.
“Peyton, people are—”
“Staring? I don’t give a damn! Let them stare!”
“Peyton, please—”
“No! Don’t tell me what I should do or what would be good for me. You can’t give me advice when you’re just as fucked up as I am, if not more!”
I am speechless, but not in the same way Mason makes me. This is different. I am hurt and embarrassed. I want my Peyton back. This boy yelling at me is a stranger, and I have definitely never met him. Not even for a split second.
“Peyton, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Anything by it? Yeah, whatever. I’m leaving. Call a taxi!” he says, throwing money on the table.
I cry as I watch him leave. The waitress comes back to see if I’m okay. I tell her I am and ask her if she can cancel the order. I pay the full price anyway. I just think it’s the right thing to do. I walk out the diner with my head down and wait for my taxi to arrive. I hope it comes soon.
Peyton
W hat is wrong with me? I made her cry. I never wanted to make her cry. She’s my best friend. I share things with her that I’m sometimes too afraid to admit to Mason. Maybe that’s why I freaked out. Maybe she knows too much about me. Maybe we should stop being friends. Maybe it’s just my illness talking. I hate this! I can’t even be normal for just a few hours. I hate that I have to rely on medication to control my emotions. The one thing Taylor doesn’t know is that I’ve been seeing someone. I’ve had a counselor for a while now; she’s referred me to a psychiatrist. Is that crazy or what? Or maybe I’m the crazy one. I guess it just freaked me out that Taylor decided to mention a counselor when she didn’t know I’m already seeing one. It’s like she knows me too well.
I don’t want her to know for a reason. I don’t want to lose her. She’s all that I have right now. Mason has changed since he’s been married and he’s always working, so he can’t be there for me like he used to. I knew something was wrong. I’ve felt it for a long time. From the time I sent Justin to the hospital just for talking about my hair. There was never a need to become that violent. I knew something wasn’t normal but I tried to avoid it.
Taylor’s never seen me like this so I know it scared her. I just want to be normal for a day and live without my meds, like everyone else. I didn’t mean to hurt her—God knows I mean it. Now, I’m not schizophrenic, but I’m pretty close. My psychiatrist says I’m bipolar. I’m always either too hot or too cold. I can never reach amiddle ground. My medication helps, but it still doesn’t make me normal. I’m afraid that I will never be normal.
That explains the entire outburst and why I don’t sleep at night; instead, I stay up all night and compose new music. She says that’s normal while I’m in the
I watch as the pain returns to Peyton’s eyes. It’s so strong that the sorrow reflects back to me.
“I know you don’t like people to say it, but I’m sorry, Peyton. I really am.”
“It’s all right,” he whispers with hurt in his voice.
“Have you ever thought of speaking to someone about this? I mean, you’ve experienced a lot of hurt, and I know that it’s hard for you to deal with it sometimes,” I risk saying.
He looks up at me with anger. It’s a look I have never seen on his face before. I am scared.
“Have you ever thought about talking to someone about Tyler?” he asks with a raised voice.
“Peyton, calm down. It was just a question! And, yes, I have. It’s not so bad to speak with someone. I think it’s great that you confide in me and I’m glad we can be there for each other, but we may need more.”
I’m afraid to speak anymore. His look is like ice.
Cold and hard
.
“I mean, with everything that’s happened with Karson, your mom, and now your dad, Peyton, you really should—”
“Taylor, will you shut the hell up?” he shouts.
“Peyton, people are—”
“Staring? I don’t give a damn! Let them stare!”
“Peyton, please—”
“No! Don’t tell me what I should do or what would be good for me. You can’t give me advice when you’re just as fucked up as I am, if not more!”
I am speechless, but not in the same way Mason makes me. This is different. I am hurt and embarrassed. I want my Peyton back. This boy yelling at me is a stranger, and I have definitely never met him. Not even for a split second.
“Peyton, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Anything by it? Yeah, whatever. I’m leaving. Call a taxi!” he says, throwing money on the table.
I cry as I watch him leave. The waitress comes back to see if I’m okay. I tell her I am and ask her if she can cancel the order. I pay the full price anyway. I just think it’s the right thing to do. I walk out the diner with my head down and wait for my taxi to arrive. I hope it comes soon.
Peyton
W hat is wrong with me? I made her cry. I never wanted to make her cry. She’s my best friend. I share things with her that I’m sometimes too afraid to admit to Mason. Maybe that’s why I freaked out. Maybe she knows too much about me. Maybe we should stop being friends. Maybe it’s just my illness talking. I hate this! I can’t even be normal for just a few hours. I hate that I have to rely on medication to control my emotions. The one thing Taylor doesn’t know is that I’ve been seeing someone. I’ve had a counselor for a while now; she’s referred me to a psychiatrist. Is that crazy or what? Or maybe I’m the crazy one. I guess it just freaked me out that Taylor decided to mention a counselor when she didn’t know I’m already seeing one. It’s like she knows me too well.
I don’t want her to know for a reason. I don’t want to lose her. She’s all that I have right now. Mason has changed since he’s been married and he’s always working, so he can’t be there for me like he used to. I knew something was wrong. I’ve felt it for a long time. From the time I sent Justin to the hospital just for talking about my hair. There was never a need to become that violent. I knew something wasn’t normal but I tried to avoid it.
Taylor’s never seen me like this so I know it scared her. I just want to be normal for a day and live without my meds, like everyone else. I didn’t mean to hurt her—God knows I mean it. Now, I’m not schizophrenic, but I’m pretty close. My psychiatrist says I’m bipolar. I’m always either too hot or too cold. I can never reach amiddle ground. My medication helps, but it still doesn’t make me normal. I’m afraid that I will never be normal.
That explains the entire outburst and why I don’t sleep at night; instead, I stay up all night and compose new music. She says that’s normal while I’m in the
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