Archive of Our Own

Peyton applies to a few art schools around the country. One day she finds New York City exciting and pulsing with possibilities while another day, her heart yearns to go down Sunset Boulevard where the great musicians have played and will continue to play. Sometimes she considers real college cities like Providence or Boston, or maybe she can test her ability to handle the tundra and go to Chicago.

There's also Philadelphia and San Francisco and Austin and Ann Arbor and Seattle. So many places to go and it's scary, of course it is, but there's something genuinely thrilling about picking a place and having a fresh start.

So, she applies to as many colleges as she can, to all the programs that seem remotely interesting. Maybe it's excessive, she considers as she picks envelope after envelope, but when she stuffs them all in her mailbox, raising the little red flag, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply, knowing for the first time in a while that it's going to be okay, somehow.

Over the period of a few weeks, she gets letters back. There are rejections (Yale University, Rhode Island School of Design, Columbia University, and some others), and there are acceptances (School of the Art Institute of Chicago, UCLA, California College of the Arts, Massachusetts College of Art, and some others).

She has her pick of the lot and as she narrows down the list (too far away, not a good vibe, middle of nowhere), she finds herself unwilling to cut one particular school off the list despite the fact that she wouldn't technically have a fresh start.

Ultimately, it's a three-way tie between School of the Art Institute of Chicago, UCLA, and Savannah College of Art and Design.

"Chicago is the highest ranked school – that's an amazing opportunity," Lucas says.

"But LA is…well, LA," Peyton counters.

"And Savannah…why Savannah? Over San Francisco or Boston?"

She pauses in her pacing and she waits for Lucas to realize that Jake is there, waits for that moment of realization and subsequent anger, but it never comes.

Lucas waits for her to give her answer and he has no idea.

"I just…something clicked when I read about it," Peyton answers stiltedly.

"Well, you're gonna visit all these schools, right? You get a few excused absences for college visits."

Peyton lets out a breath she'd been unwittingly holding. "Yeah, uh. I'm going to Chicago and LA during spring break with my dad and Brooke. Savannah…I was going to go to the Open House."

"Oh, when’s that?"

"Next weekend," she says, knowing he won't be able to go.

"Ah, well, you'll have to call me along the way, yeah?"

"Definitely."

Peyton goes over to kiss him, he wraps an arm around her waist, and off they go.

Peyton calls Jake that night, nervously playing with her hair as she listens to it ring.

(They’ve spoken twice since they last parted ways. The conversations have been light and not very long, but comforting. The space apart doesn’t hurt as much when she can finally reach him with a phone call.)

"Hey, Peyton."

Something loosens in her chest and she smiles easily. "Hey, Jake. How are you? How’s Jenny?"

"I'm good – you know that first day you have after suffering from a cold and you're so thankful that you can breathe out of both nostrils?"

She laughs and brings a hand to her mouth. "Yeah."

"That was my day, so pretty damn good. Jenny’s doing good too. How about you?"

"Good, really good. I, uh, narrowed down my list of schools."

"What, from fifty to thirty?"

She laughs again. "No, I'm down from eighteen to three."

"Damn. That's amazing. So, what are the lucky three?"

"Art Institute of Chicago…"

"Wow, that's incredible, Peyton."

She smiles. "UCLA…"

"But of course."

She pauses. "And, uhm…Savannah College of Art and Design."

It's quiet on the other line.

She holds the phone tighter to her ear, waiting.

"Why?"

It's mostly a curious tone, but there's wariness too.

She shrugs, even though she knows he can't see. "Because…I remember walking down that street with you and Jenny and seeing that building and…it felt really good. And when I was researching all these schools, I just. Savannah has some great majors that I never even thought about – like art administration or sequential art." She sighs. "There's an open house for accepted students next weekend and I was planning on going. Do you…think you want to meet up afterwards?"

She hears him sigh. "I should be free, yeah. Call me when you get out? I'll pick you up."

"Pick me up? In what?"

He laughs. "You'll see. It's got mad game."

She grins. "I'm looking forward to it."

She's not stupid enough to presume she'll stay with Jake. She calls a nearby hotel and books a room before heading down there and she calls Lucas when she safely lands.

She takes a cab to the hotel, has a cab drop her off about a mile away from the school and she walks from there. Her physical therapist told her to not let her leg go stiff, so she takes her time, taking in the sights, picturing herself a few months from now, attending classes.

It's definitely possible.

Open House is filled with kids from out of state. But despite being alone, she doesn't really feel that way. She sits next to a Taiwanese girl – Emily – who is deciding between a Boston school and here.

"I don't know, there's something really comforting about Savannah," Emily says thoughtfully, running her finger over a Roman numeral tattoo on her inner wrist.

"I know what you mean."

Peyton has collected her brochures, grabbing seconds for her dad, and leaves the school with a warmth in her chest she hasn't felt in a while.

"It was nice meeting you, Peyton," Emily says with a big smile. "Maybe we'll end up at the same school."

"Maybe. Take care."

Peyton waves at Emily's and her parents' retreating figures and pulls out her phone, dialing Jake's number.

"Hey, perfect timing – I just got out of work. Which building are you at?"

"Uh…342 Bull Street – the Admission Welcome Center –"

"Got it – see you in ten minutes."

"Okay, see you."

She considers calling Lucas, but instead shoots him a text saying that everything went great and she'll talk to him tomorrow.

When she pockets her phone, Jake pulls up in a damn Volvo and she laughs as she dumps her stuff into the backseat and continues laughing once she's in the passenger seat.

"Knock it off, Pey, this car is very safe."

"Yeah, it's super bitchin'," she teases. "At least your tunes are redeemable – you like Everything In Transit?"

"Oh, man, I love it. Can't get sick of it – I don't know which song I like most."

"I know what you mean. One listen, 'Dark Blue' is my favorite; another it's 'I'm Ready;' another it's 'Into the Airwaves.' I think that's what makes it a great album, you know? You're not stuck on the same song over and over."

"It can't get stale," he agrees. "So, you hungry?"

"Starving," she admits. "Surprisingly, fried everything isn't part of my palette."

"I bet, but it's something to get used to. What are you in the mood for?"

"Hmm…what's the best place in town?"

He smiles and she adores his smile. "Are you in the mood for pizza from a place with a cutesy name?"

"Sounds great."

She's still giggling once their pizza arrives.

"I don't think I've ever heard you laugh so much," Jake says as he takes a slice of pizza from the tray.

"I'm sorry, but Vinnie Van Go Go's?" She takes a slice of pizza for herself. "God this smells amazing."

"Tastes even better. I take Jenny here sometimes – it's very kid friendly," he explains, gesturing towards the restaurant where at least half the tables are filled with little kids.

He catches her up on the custody arrangement – the year is almost up and there’s court scheduled to determine new custody arrangements. Nikki continues to try, but Jake is just praying for fifty-fifty custody at this point.

(Peyton doesn’t care – if she bumps into Nikki, she will likely slap the shit out of her.)

Peyton listens as Jake talks about Jenny in daycare, about his work, about the coffeeshop and Spanish restaurant that sometimes pays for him to play guitar during business hours, about getting his GED –

"You did?" Peyton gasps. "Congratulations!"

"Yeah, I got it two weeks ago. I figured that maybe in a few months when I have Jenny, I could maybe start taking a class or two at the community college."

"That's great, Jake. I'm really happy for you."

"And I'm happy for you, Peyton. Whichever school you end up going to, they're going to be so lucky to have you."

She smiles and says, "Thanks. I only have less than three weeks to choose – it's nerve wracking, you know? Choosing your future for the next four years."

Jake nods. "It is scary, but I think no matter what, you'll make the most out of your experience."

She nods, unable to really look at him because her heart is in her throat. Instead, she reaches over to take some of his Dr. Pepper and they fight over their sodas until Jake nearly knocks the pizza off the table, making them laugh until sodas come out of their noses.

He drops her off at the hotel and offers her a ride to the airport the next day.

"You want to come by for breakfast? It's free. It'll probably suck, but who can say no to free food?"

"I certainly can't," he says. "Okay. Come by at nine?"

"Perfect. Thanks for dinner, and, you know, seeing me."

He smiles. "It's good to see you doing okay." He reaches out to touch her arm. "I'll see you in the morning."

She lies in bed and falls asleep with a smile on her face for the first time in a long time.

She calls Lucas in the morning, tells him about the Open House, and says she's going to have breakfast with Jake.

"Oh, that's great! Tell him I said hey, and we miss his D like crazy."

Peyton nods, not knowing why she's a little offended that he's not threatened at all by this development. "I will. I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"Love you too."

She hangs up and spends another five minutes making sure her hair is orderly.

"Well, this breakfast was…mediocre. Glad I didn't have to pay for it," Jake says, nudging her shoulder. "You need a ride to the airport?"

"Nah, I'll get a cab. It's right in the middle of your shift, so."

"Oh, sorry."

"It's fine, really."

"Well," Jake starts a little awkwardly, like the teenager he still is beyond the working and child providing. "I guess…you'll keep me up to date?"

"Of course I will. You'll be one of the first to know."

"Good. Well, good luck choosing, Peyton. No matter what, you'll make a great choice."

Peyton smiles and pulls him in for a tight hug. She feels safe and solid with her arms around him, with his around hers. "Thanks, Jake. Give Jenny a kiss for me."

"I will."

Before she second-guesses herself, she softly kisses his cheek.

He smiles, squeezes her arm affectionately before heading to work. She watches him drive away before calling for a cab.

During the next few weeks, Peyton, her dad, and Brooke travel to Chicago first, which is way too cold for her. The people they meet say they’re having a cold snap, but Peyton figures if this is not even the worst of it, she’ll never make it in the dead of winter. There’s also something else about Chicago that feels cold too that she can’t put her finger on.

In terms of LA…there are parts she likes. That she really likes, actually. But then there are parts she really doesn’t. The campus is beautiful, but the area it’s in is expensive, it would be impossible to have her car on campus, and she’s admittedly had enough with sports culture.

With both universities, she had this idea that she’d love to get lost in a large student body, to be one of the many, but while she’s there, it feels more like she’s drowning. While she wants a fresh start, she doesn’t want to feel like she’s invisible either.

It takes her two weeks to formally decide, but she feels good when she mails her safety deposit check to Savannah.

The same day she commits to Savannah, she hears back from a record label she applied to months ago for an internship.

Of course she takes it, even though it will keep her and Lucas apart too soon.

(She has to admit, when he immediately tells her to go, she's a little disappointed. What is it with the guys in her life wanting to be selfless over wanting to keep her? It can give a girl a complex.)

She calls Jake at the end of the week with the news.

"And you're sure this is what you want?" Jake asks.

"It is," she states.

"Well, then this is amazing. Congratulations, Peyton. You deserve this – you earned this."

She smiles and wishes she were next to him. The words are comforting, solidifying this golden light in her chest that she thought Psycho Derek extinguished.

"That's not all – I got an internship at a record label in L.A."

"Wow, P. Sawyer is on a roll and I'm certainly not surprised."

She laughs. "Oh, stop. But thanks. Thank you, really."

"Does this mean I'm going to have to help you move in?"

"Well, I was gonna wait until August and butter you up with some baked goods, but. Yes. Definitely."

Jake laughs. "Hey, I still want baked goods."

"Done." She checks her watch and realizes she has five minutes until Lucas picks her up for their date. "I have to run, but I'll talk to you later, okay? Say hi to Jenny for me."

"I will. Talk to you later and congratulations again."

“Thanks,” she says, smiling so widely it almost hurts.

The next time they talk, it’s the day after the custody hearing for Jenny. Peyton barely sleeps when her calls go straight to voicemail, terrified that he somehow lost, that Jenny is gone forever, but –

“Hey, I’m really sorry,” Jake says as soon as Peyton picks up her phone after the first ring. He sounds exhausted. “It’s been a really crazy twenty-four hours.”

“What happened? Is Jenny safe?”

“Yeah, she’s okay. She’s with me. Full time, actually.”

Her jaw drops. “Wait, what? But…wasn’t it supposed to be fifty-fifty, the best-case scenario?”

“Yeah, well, that’s if we were both doing what we were supposed to be doing. Nikki apparently has faked her last two drug tests – her parents were covering for her. They stopped after this last one and came clean. They advocated for me to have Jenny. Nikki now has supervised visitations with mandatory drug treatment.”

Peyton is biting her lip hard to stop herself from smiling. It’s sad, objectively, that Nikki was trying and seems to be struggling, but with all the shit she put Jake through?

“…I’m sorry, can I react in the wrong way first?” Peyton asks.

Jake makes a noise between a cough and a laugh. “Uh, yeah. Go ahead.”

“She got what she deserved, which is nothing, that evil bitch.” Peyton then takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry she seems to be struggling with drugs. Hopefully she gets better for Jenny’s sake.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

She wets her bottom lip. “I’m happy Jenny’s with you. I’m so, so happy.”

She hears him sniffle. “Yeah. Me too. It’s so good to have her home.”

“I owe you the biggest hug when I next see you.”

She doesn’t tell Lucas about it. And he doesn’t ask if she’s heard from Jake.

Her high school graduation, which felt so far away at one point, is suddenly here. She watches Haley – radiant, powerful behind the podium, reciting Shakespeare. Life is short, that much Peyton has always known to be true.

And Haley sharing with their class that she’s in labor really does accentuate her point.

Peyton didn’t realize how small newborns were. She was so used to Jenny when she was six months old. Jamie is so light, and tiny, and sort of alien looking, but Peyton won’t admit that, especially when Haley and Nathan are looking at him with such love.

Lucas is with his half-sister. She wants to talk about this moment, but she keeps her awe to herself. She wonders how her mom felt when she first gave birth; she hopes what she saw in Haley was similar.

She cries when she leaves Tree Hill High for the last time. She doesn’t expect it, but it happens. Lucas is confused and tries to comfort her, but she tries to explain that it’s just pure fucking relief.

Nothing has disappointed her more than interning in LA, as much as she’s loved the in between time with Brooke. But at the same time, she feels even more reassured with her ultimate choice for school. She was satisfied with her choice to go to Savannah, but at the same time, she's always had this soft spot for the possibilities that LA could bring her. But living here, working at a label that's so soul sucking, she lies awake at night aching for home…she realizes at some point in between grabbing coffees and hearing about autotune being added to unique voices that it's not for her.

She calls Jake at one point, being unable to reach Lucas. He probably passed out – he's been up taking care of his baby sister. But as soon as she remembers that Jake lives in the same damn time zone as everyone else, she's about to hang up until he actually answers.

"H'lo?"

"Oh, Jake, I'm so sorry, I forgot about the timezones – go back to bed –" she whispers, bringing a hand to her eyes in embarrassment.

"It's fine – I need to be awake in a bit anyway."

"Glorious morning job?"

"Unfortunately. But I only have a week left of it. In fact, I managed to secure myself a pretty decent job."

"Oh yeah? Congratulations! What is it?"

"A home health aide, believe it or not."

"Nah, I can believe that. You're good with people."

"What about you? How's LA treating you? Any regrets about Savannah?"

"None whatsoever."

And she really means it.

Peyton finds out about her roommate in August and she laughs for about five minutes before sending her an email.

Emily,

Funny how this worked out! When are you thinking about moving in?

- Peyton

Peyton’s dad actually manages to be home when she’s scheduled to move into her dorm. She’s been so used to her dad being gone and missing milestones that she didn’t realize how nice it was to feel normal, like everyone else bringing their dads and moms to help their babies start a new chapter in their lives.

(She tells Jake that he’s off the hook for helping her move in – she wants to do this with just her dad.)

“Jesus, Pey, this weather is brutal,” her dad exhales when he drops a box of her clothes onto the floor unceremoniously.

Peyton sighs as she looks around the tiny dorm, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. Yeah, there was no way she was going to be able to bring even half of her record collection and fit a turntable. She’ll have to make due with CDs and find the closest record store to seek solace in.

And her dad is right – the weather is brutal. Summers are humid and hot in Tree Hill, but this is another level.

It takes them another hour to finish unloading, unpacking. It’s not perfect, but it looks less like a prison cell and more like space for her. A little bit of refuge from the hustle of college.

“How’re you feeling, kiddo?” her dad asks, breaking Peyton out of her daydream.

She whips her head to look at him. “Good. Scared. But, excited, y’know?”

He smiles warmly. “That’s good. You’re getting a fresh start, you’re learning what you want to learn…you’re going to really like college, I know it.”

Peyton tries to smile back, but her nerves are getting the best of her, emotions becoming out of whack as she wishes Lucas could’ve helped her, but he had to watch the baby in the morning and then…do what he needed to do. But her dad was here, she wasn’t alone.

And she won’t be alone when her dad drives back. Jake offered to take her out for an ice cream or a sweet tea – something to help cool her down after moving in during this heat wave.

She hugs her dad tightly, like it’s a final goodbye. She hopes it isn’t, but she knows better than anyone that nothing is guaranteed. Her eyes sting, tears falling down her sweaty face, for the first time grateful for the excessive heat.

Eventually, he goes. Peyton has a moment when her heart is pounding in her ears and she can’t stand the muffled silence of the room. Tears prickle in her eyes, but thankfully, Emily returns to the room with her two parents with the last of her belongings.

“Hey – did your dad leave?” Emily asks.

Peyton’s heart is in her throat when she nods. “Yeah, I’ll give you a moment. Gotta make a call.”

“Okay, sure –”

Peyton steps out of the room, weaves through the hallway to the front of her dorm. There’s no relief when she steps outside the dorm in this heat. How is she going to live here for four years – she’s alone, really alone –

Her phone has a text from thirty minutes ago.

From Jake Jagielski:
Hey! Just checking in on the move while I’m on break. Good luck! When things settle – let me know.

She almost calls him, she really does. She squeezes her eyes shut and forces herself to breathe. Lucas.

This time she can feel the distinct sensation of tears slipping down her face as she calls Lucas.

“Hey, Peyton.”

She clenches her jaw shut so tightly she’s surprised her teeth don’t break. “Hi.”

“Hey – are you okay?” His concern eases the ache in her chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, I just – I’m having a moment. Just said goodbye to my dad.”

“It’s not for forever – the semester is going to go quickly. I’m gonna try to go down there – three weeks. Promise. You’re not alone. You’ll make so many friends and be so busy, you’ll wish you had alone time.”

It’s sweet – the words and sentiments are sweet. But…

She swallows it down. “I’m being silly,” she forces out.

“Nah, it’s a lot. New chapter and all that. But you’re Peyton Sawyer, and you’re going to be amazing.”

“Thanks, Luc.”

“I love you.”

“Yeah. You too. I should, uh…I should go. Still need to unpack my clothes,” she lies. “I’ll talk to you later.”

When she hangs up, she texts Jake back:

Send me your work schedule and I’ll find a time that works for us.

To Lucas’ credit, Peyton is busy that first week. There’s orientation, there’s awkward ice breakers that everyone suffers through, but she guesses that helps with bonding. Emily’s taste in music is eclectic, listening to dance pop and rap, some folk, but is willing to listen to whatever Peyton puts into the CD player, sometimes writing down the albums she likes best.

Peyton also talks to a girl named Stacey, who grew up in Atlanta and was looking for some distance between her family – enough so that they can’t just drop by and disrupt her life.

“But not far enough so I have to deal with plane tickets,” Stacey explains as they walk over to the dining hall. “I am not paying for Thanksgiving plane fares just to see my thirty cousins.”

“Your what now?” Peyton gasps. “Thirty?”

Stacey looks at her with raised eyebrows. “Let me tell you,” she starts, putting her dreads into a bun. “Buckle up.”

Stacey is a dramatic storyteller of her large family, which is so large due to the fact her great-grandfather had a double-life and kept two families. The wives kicked him to the curb, but became best friends.

“Potentially more, that’s the dirty little secret, but my grandparents won’t hear a word of it.”

Peyton finds it fascinating how everyone she meets shares so much about their families. Well, at least the people she comes to be close with. She hopes there are others like her, not willing to go into detail about family or their childhood home.

Peyton loves Tree Hill, but it’s now part of that growing list of towns known for school shootings – another statistic, another line for politicians to throw around. She doesn’t want pity. She puts on a large band aid to hide the scar on her leg so people don’t ask.

Maybe that’s bad. She’s a survivor, she should be proud. But she guesses more than anything, she wishes to just be normal.

Peyton registers for the SCAD Core classes for her first semester, figuring she’ll get all her requirements out of the way. There’s Drawing 100: Form and Space, Visual Culture in Context 121: Pre-Modern Global Perspectives, English 123: Critical Concepts in Literature and Writing, and Astronomy 101.

She figures if she has to take a science class, she might as well learn about the stars. Maybe she’ll actually be able to scientifically explain what a comet is.

She never put much care into her school supplies the way that Haley does, but Peyton does buy different color notebooks for her classes, gets some new pens, some folders.

Emily is also taking Context 121, but she’s looking to get her BFA in Writing or Sequential Art while Peyton has her eyes on Illustration.

“I’m assuming sequential art is essentially storytelling ala comics, graphic novels…” Peyton trails off, looking questioningly at Emily.

“Yeah, I mean, it can be for any sort of visual narrative. Have you thought about doing it yourself? You seem to do that too.”

“I mean, maybe in like, two panels. I can’t do something like a comic book, not like you.”

Emily shrugs. “Have you tried?”

“I’m not a writer.”

Emily raises her eyebrow, not needing to ask the question again.

Peyton’s not a writer – Lucas is the writer. Still, there are so many BFAs to consider, that Peyton wants to keep her options open.

Peyton grabs breakfast with Jake during her first full week of classes.

“I only have about an hour before I have to go to my client’s house,” Jake says with a sigh.

“I know you can’t tell me much about your client, but…” she trails off, biting into her breakfast burrito.

“She’s this…eighty-year-old woman. Feisty as hell. Keeps leaving her jewelry in the fridge. Refuses to use the walker like her doctor ordered. Wicked sense of humor.”

She grins. “Sounds like a riot.”

“Yeah, I’m enjoying working with her. Has a nice home, too. Her sons come and help out too, but they’re all spread out.”

“So, you’re with her…five days a week, six hours a day, doing…”

“A lot of things: grocery shopping, laundry, cleaning, escorting her to appointments and other errands…helping her get dressed…”

Peyton raises her eyebrows. “What?”

“She requested for a male HHA – apparently the last HHA she had was a woman and was pretty neglectful. She didn’t tell me herself, but she was just watching TV when my client fell in the bathroom and ended up spraining her wrist. Couldn’t get up until an hour later when the show ended,” Jake explains, a dark look in eyes. “So horrible. The agency asked if I was okay with it. I don’t care who I help. So, that’s how I ended up working with her.”

She shakes her head. “Why do people go into fields to help people and instead act like assholes?” she reflects out loud, thinking about that horrible nurse they encountered in that random hospital where Haley got treated during senior year.

He shrugs his shoulders. “No idea.”

She sighs. “Well, she sounds great. Do you have any other clients?”

“Yeah, I got a couple more. But they’re all two or three times a week, for two or three hours at a time. They’re less entertaining. Although one of them has been giving me children’s books for Jenny, which has been awesome.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Alright, enough about my glamorous job – what about you? Tell me about your classes! Maybe it’ll inspire me to go when I have the time. Or the energy,” he says with a smile.

Peyton dives into her classes, her professors. She’s surrounded by people who are equally if not more talented than her. It frightened her on day one, but now she just wants to be better.

Sharing a room is actually not as bad as she thought it would be; it’s nice to have a friend nearby. Emily isn’t Brooke, but is anyone really?

Best of all – she has a fresh start that she wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. There are no expectations that she felt she had when she was in LA; this can’t disappoint her.

“I’m really happy for you, Peyton. You deserve it all.”

Peyton smiles, her eyes stinging. “Thanks.”

“I just hope you don’t forget about me by the end of the semester,” he jokes.

“No way. You better find yourself a good babysitter ‘cause I’m definitely taking you out on the town.” She wiggles her eyebrows for good measure.

Jake laughs and shakes his head. “Oh man. I have to be too old for that, right?”

“No way. You can be the responsible Jake we all know and love while also…lettin’ loose.”

“Letting loose?” he repeats, laughing.

“Yeah!”

“Okay, fine, I will go to a party or two, as long as I’m not forced to stay up too late.”

She laughs. “Okay, Grandpa.”

Peyton and Brooke have a standing phone call every Thursday at 8am. Brooke is on her way to her internship in SoHo, and Peyton is getting breakfast before her 9am English 123 class. There’s also Sunday or Monday, just to debrief the weekends, but it’s mostly Brooke talking about her clubbing, her hooking up, or staying in to finish a dress design she’s been tinkering with.

Peyton has gone to the occasional college party, but maybe this makes her absolutely insane, but they’re all lame in comparison to Tree Hill parties.

(Even Jake agrees with her when they bailed on one early to grab ice cream and sneak nips of Fireball.)

She laughs about it after leaving one party where they get ample time to break up before campus security arrives.

“What?” Emily asks, snorting laughing.

“Nothin’, nothin’.”

(Peyton still isn’t ready to talk about it all.)

Peyton and Lucas talk about and plan his visit for the weekend. It’s a six-and-a-half-hour drive between Savannah and Tree Hill. Lucas is working hard with Whitey on strategizing and training their college basketball team, being godfather to Haley and Nathan’s son, helping his mom with her baby – his baby sister. He’s stretched thin.

The first time he cancels because he got sick, which is understandable since Peyton is fighting off her own cold like everyone else on her floor in her dorm. Living in close quarters with a bunch of freshmen is like being in a kindergarten class, it seems.

The second time he cancels, there’s an issue with his car that requires a new part to be mailed and delivered.

The third time, she cancels on him – she has a huge project that she needs to focus on and she would’ve forgotten to eat if Emily and Jake hadn’t taken turns getting her takeout.

“Peyton,” Lucas sighs over the phone as they’re looking over their calendars. It seems like Thanksgiving is going to be the only weekend since she’s staying at Lucas’ home, where Lily is planning on making a huge feast.

(If Peyton is being honest, she’s not looking forward to coming back to Tree Hill; she’s gotten used to not having nightmares.)

“I know, I’m sorry, but – hopefully with next semester, it’ll be easier.”

Lucas sighs again. “I don’t know, the season will be starting, so.”

Peyton’s thought that too, but it’ll be fine, it has to be. “We’ll work it out,” she says.

They will.

“You’re definitely coming back to Tree Hill, right?” Peyton asks Brooke once October becomes November.

“Yes, I will, I’m coming Thursday morning and I may or may not be hungover.”

Peyton laughs and shakes her head. “Okay. I can pick you up.”

“That would be amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, what’s Jake doing for Thanksgiving?”

“They’re keeping it chill. He’s helping one of his clients in the morning, so he’s not going to have time to cook all the sides. But he’s so happy to have Jenny for it.”

“Are his parents still not in Tree Hill? Maybe they can come up.”

“His parents actually moved to Atlanta to be closer to Jake. They’re hoping in a few years, Jake’s dad can retire and they can move into Savannah.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. Well, when I visit next semester, I can’t wait to see them.” Brooke suddenly gasps. “Wait, I completely forgot to tell you what happened with my mother.”

Peyton hates Brooke’s mother and has a bad feeling about this reintroduction into her life, but Brooke seems cautiously optimistic, so she keeps her mouth shut.

Peyton’s drive back to Tree Hill consists of blasting a lot of music, not allowing a minute of silence because if there’s quiet, she’ll be forced to think about what she’s coming back to.

When she’s hitting the final exits of South Carolina, she gets a call from Jake. She lowers the music.

“Hey,” Peyton says.

“Hey. Figured you’d still be driving – I’m driving to my parents to pick up Jenny. You okay? I know it’s your first time coming back to Tree Hill.”

Peyton swallows. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Blasting your music until you can’t think?” he asks knowingly.

“Pretty much.”

“It’s only for a few days. And you’ll be surrounded by the people you love.”

“That was never the issue,” she says quietly.

“Yeah. I know.” There’s a pause in their conversation. “Well, besides my work hours, you can call me. Jenny can babble at you.”

“I’m beginning to understand what she’s saying now, I’m getting there.”

“You are. Don’t worry.”

She takes a sharp breath when she sees the Welcome to North Carolina sign.

“You got this, Peyton. What are you playing on the stereo?”

“Um,” she starts, blinking away tears. “I’m listening to Bloc Party. A Weekend in the City.”

“Man, ‘I Still Remember’ is just one of those songs that I could have on repeat over and over,” he says. “Those guitar riffs – really just capture that longing.”

“Yeah,” she says, her throat tight. “I tend to skip that song. I find myself crying when I hear it.” She almost says she finds it hilarious that he can listen to it over and over when the first time she heard it, heard I could feel your heartbeat across the grass, we should have run, I would go with you anywhere, she burst into tears and felt like she was sixteen again, watching Jake leave.

She takes out the CD and flips through the CDs in the passenger seat. She puts in Sam’s Town by the Killers instead. “Doing the Killers now instead.”

“Damn, now I’m going to have ‘When You Were Young’ stuck in my head for the rest of the day.”

She smiles. “I’m partial to ‘Read My Mind.’”

“‘I got the green light, I got a little fight, I’m gonna turn this thing around.’”

She smiles softly. “Exactly.”

And the song is blasting through her speakers as she’s driving down familiar streets.

She holds onto Lucas too tight. She digs her fingers into his skin as she urges him closer as he slides into her in his bed. She just wants outside of her head. And to be with him after so long.

Lucas makes her come two times, so all she feels when he dozes beside her is empty buzzing in her head. She shuts her eyes, peaceful.

She wakes up in the middle of the night, but she’s quiet about her nightmare. She’s careful about leaving Lucas’ bed, grabbing her bag, and silently opening his bedroom door to leave. She turns on a light at the kitchen table and pulls out her sketchbook, finding the last page she was on, which has one of her finals for the semester. Or, a draft of it anyway.

She tries to work on that for a few minutes, distracted by getting a glass of water, finding an apple in the fridge. She remembers Jake telling her a story about one of his clients, who always needs to have snacks scattered around his home.

“I keep telling him – this is why your diabetes is so bad, but he won’t listen. Just says he takes his medicine, so he should be able to indulge,” Jake had said, shaking his head in amusement and disbelief.

She can picture it in her mind perfectly. She doesn’t know what any of his clients look like, but like reading a book, they’re colorful and real in her mind. She can picture the little bowls of Chex Mix and M&Ms and gummy bears within easy access in all the rooms. She pictures Jake exasperatingly shopping with him, adding bag after bag of snacks and candy in the grocery cart to replenish the stock.

Peyton’s learning more about architecture in space, so she practices drawing a kitchen, drawing bags of pretzels and gummy worms and other treats. She draws different kinds of bowls – maybe Jake’s client uses some plastic, some nice crystals that maybe belonged to his wife or his mother.

She draws Jake.

She draws his client, his face purposefully hidden behind an open cupboard door as he grabs more bowls.

The sky is lightening to a cold gray; she’s been up for three hours.

She shuts her sketchbook and goes back to bed to steal a few hours before she has to drive to the airport to pick up Brooke.

Brooke is incredibly hungover and has Peyton stop twice on the side of the road so she can vomit. Peyton has the National playing quietly in the background.

“I don’t know what idiot said that Thanksgiving food is good for a hangover because of the thought of turkey and gravy…” Brooke trails off, looking queasy again.

“Mashed potatoes should be helpful. Carbs, butter. But let’s not talk about food. What did you do last night – I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this bad.”

Brooke groans. “I don’t – I was only planning on having a few, but then one of the girls I became friends with at Bloomingdales called me and said she met a few guys down in SoHo…”

Peyton listens and smiles, happy to have her friend back.

Thanksgiving Day is busy. Karen is the queen of the kitchen, tasking her subjects with what sides to prepare. Peyton is peeling potatoes while occasionally watching the parade on TV. Haley is making the stuffing while Nathan is feeding both Jamie and Lily at the same time. Brooke is hiding in Lucas’ bedroom, waiting for painkillers to kick in and the nausea to subside.

Lucas is going back and forth with Karen about the math of how many minutes the turkey – stuffed and ready to go – needs to go into the oven.

Peyton texts Jake a Happy Thanksgiving after she puts the potatoes into the boiling water.

“Who are you texting?” Lucas asks, bringing his arms around her.

“Jake. Wishing him a Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Shame he couldn’t come up – is he liking the job?”

“Yeah, he really is. His clients are an interesting mix of people.”

“It’s amazing that he does that kind of work,” Lucas says. “But he’s always been a supportive person – makes sense for him.”

She hums in agreement.

Her phone pings with a Happy Thanksgiving text, signed by him and Jenny, which makes her smile. She can’t wait to see the pictures.

(Later that night, she finishes her drawing and starts adding splashes of color.)

Friday morning is Brooke and Peyton time. They grab coffees, take advantage of Black Friday sales. For lunch, they call Haley to see if she can come, which she can as long as she can bring Jamie and if they can handle her breastfeeding.

Brooke goes off at a pervy asshole and gets a standing ovation from a table of moms at the restaurant they’re at.

“Thanks,” Haley says quietly as she places Jamie back in the stroller.

“How are you being a mom and doing classes – you’re superwoman to me,” Peyton tells Haley seriously.

Haley shoots her a tired smile. “It’s exhausting, but I couldn’t do it without the help. Which, speaking of, I’m definitely paying for your meal as I’ve definitely ruined some potential weekends for Lucas to come see you.”

Peyton waves a hand. “I get it. The distance is tough to begin with. But we’ll have winter break,” she says, half-looking forward to it, half dreading it.

Brooke winces.

“What?”

“About that…” she starts slowly. “My mom called. She wants to help me with the company – expand – and since you’ve always been my creative partner with my lines…would you want to live with me in New York? You can add it to your resume.” Brooke finishes her plea with a large smile.

Peyton stares at her before rolling her eyes. “Brooke,” she says, fighting back a smile.

“Just think about it, please?”

Peyton sighs. “I’ll think about it.”

Later, when Haley heads home, Brook is direct.

“I know you’re not sleeping well here,” she says bluntly. “Being here is really hard for you. I can see it. I’m just giving you the option to avoid it.”

“Isn’t avoiding stuff bad or something?” Peyton counters weakly.

“I don’t think it’s bad to want to not be in a town that holds a lot of painful memories,” Brooke says. “I know I’m happier now. And you seem happier too.”

Peyton nods. “I am,” she admits softly.

Brooke curls her hair behind her ear. “Look, I know you’ll want to talk to Lucas about it, but he’s going to be busy anyway with practices, preparing for the second half of the season.”

Peyton knows that’s true. “I’ll think about it,” she promises.

And when she’s up again, biting back tears at two in the morning, she mentally plans her conversation with Lucas.

“Luke,” Peyton starts as she’s pouring them coffee. “I wanna talk about winter break.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea – Whitey and I are talking about scheduling practices.”

She hands him a mug. “Brooke invited me to work with her in New York. It would be nice to add to my portfolio.”

He blinks in surprise before taking a sip. “Oh.”

“I get that it would mean us being long distance again, but I can spend the first week or two here, whichever works for you. I just…I have a hard time being here,” she admits.

“Being…at my house?” Lucas asks, baffled.

“No, here, in Tree Hill.”

His brow furrows. “But, it’s home.”

“It is. But terrible things have happened here.”

“Good things too.”

She tries to smile. “I know. I’m trying.”

“Maybe you need to come here more. The bad memories will fade.”

Maybe. Maybe.

Peyton hugs Brooke tightly, tickets to New York scheduled for the day before New Year’s Eve. She’ll spend ten days in Tree Hill with Lucas.

She calls her dad to see if maybe he’ll be in town for Christmas, but he’s usually away more often than not, so she’s not surprised when he says he won’t be in the States.

She kisses Lucas goodbye and feels like she can’t breathe when she leaves, but it’s not until she sees the Welcome to South Carolina sign does she feel that vice grip on her lungs ease up.

Peyton calls Jake to schedule a time to catch up on the holidays. Jake picks her up a few hours later and they share a pizza in her dorm room. Jake tells her that his favorite client gave him containers of all the sides to take home and now he’s spoiled forever.

“The mac and cheese? Peyton, I can’t even begin to tell you how good,” Jake says.

He tells her about stopping by Nikki’s house so she and her parents could see Jenny. Jake admits that he hated every minute of it, but Nikki’s parents thanked him profusely for it, so he knows he did the right thing.

“How was Nikki?”

He shrugs his shoulders, ripping part of the crust off to pop into his mouth. “She was okay. She was with us for about twenty minutes until she left. Her parents told me it’s been hard, thinking about the holidays without her.”

“Yeah. You’d know,” she says, a bit snarky in defense of him.

His eyebrow twitches up and he nods once. “Yeah.”

She reaches over to squeeze his shoulder. He smiles up at her.

“So, am I gonna see you again before your finals?” he jokes.

“Maybe if you can bring me coffee and food,” she jokes back, but maybe she’s a little serious too. “I want to watch Jenny if you need a sitter – if she doesn’t mind doing arts and crafts with me.”

“Okay, we’ll see how we can work it out.”

“And if all else fails, there’s always the telephone.”

He nods. “That’s right.”

The end of the semester involves a lot of coffee – some from on campus, some brought from the outside by Jake – a lot of late nights with blasting music through headphones. She manages to watch Jenny a couple of times, one of which was for a date, which makes Peyton feel a little weird, but she gets over it when she hears about Charlotte, the nice, single mom who’s two years older than them, studying to be a teacher.

“We’re just taking it day by day. Our schedules are a little crazy, and her little girl is younger than Jenny, so. We’ll see what happens,” Jake says over sodas in his kitchen.

“I’m happy for you,” she tells him, and she means it.

She loves hearing about his clients, who now have nicknames: Chef Lady, for the various meals and baked goods she makes, so Jake has one less thing to worry about; Candy Man, for the various snacks he keeps around the house and goes against every medical advice besides taking his medications; Jake’s favorite – the Hat Lady – for the client with the most extensive hat collection he’s ever seen and makes him laugh the most, whom Peyton can tell Jake is more attached to than the others in a way that’s going to hurt him later on.

Her friends at school teased her at first about Jake, but after meeting Lucas through video chat a couple of times, they’ve backed off.

Stacey jokes about going on a date with Jake, but she doesn’t see kids in her future.

“Don’t tell my mama because she’ll lose her goddamn mind,” Stacey mutters.

“Don’t you have enough siblings that will give her grandkids?” Peyton asks.

“You can never have too many grandbabies,” Stacey says, like she’s quoting someone, maybe her own grandma.

(Peyton didn’t have any grandmas by the time she was old enough to realize that fact; it makes her a little sad when she hears stories from her friends as the holidays inch closer.)

Peyton, Emily, and Stacey agree after three nights staying up until three in the morning, that they’re going to take one night off and watch TV.

It’s going great until there’s a gunshot in the show.

Peyton freezes, stops breathing, can’t focus on anything but the sudden, searing pain in her leg.

“Whoa, Peyton, are you okay?” Someone asks this but it comes out warped, from far away.

There’s a hand coming toward her and she passes out.

She’s woken up to EMS shaking her. They ask her questions, check her pulse, read her heart rate. Emily, Stacey, other people on Stacey’s dorm floor peeking in, concerned.

“Miss, do you have panic attacks?” one of the EMTs asks her.

Peyton struggles to find her voice. “I, uh, haven’t had one for a while.”

They tell her to get some rest, a suggestion to seek mental health counseling.

It’s an effective end to their somewhat relaxing night.

Stacey hugs her tightly goodnight, a look in her eye like she knows without even being told, and maybe that’s true. Peyton has been to Atlanta twice and has heard stories from classmates.

Peyton and Emily are silent on their way back to their room, as they get ready for bed.

When they shut off the lights, Peyton says, “I’m from Tree Hill, North Carolina. I was the kid who got shot.” Peyton shuts her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks. “I didn’t want to tell anyone because I didn’t want to be seen only for my scar.” She brings a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out loud.

“Thank you for telling me,” Emily says, her voice unsteady. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Peyton nods even though she can’t see her.

Having a panic attack is exhausting, so Peyton manages to fall asleep easily with no dreams.

Peyton calls Lucas to tell him what happened the night before, but catches his voicemail.

“Hey, Lucas, just calling to see how you were. I love you.”

Peyton calls Brooke, but also catches her voicemail.

Peyton hesitates, but calls Jake.

“Hey, I only got five minutes – on the way to Hat Lady. How’s it going?”

She can’t even bring herself to lie. “I had a panic attack last night, the first one in a while.”

“Aw no, I’m sorry, Peyton. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I was watching TV with some friends and there was a gunshot, which…”

“Yeah.”

“So, I told them. What happened. And the world didn’t end.”

She can picture him smiling, her heart easing before he even responds: “I’m glad you did. I get why you didn’t, but it seems like the people you’ve met at SCAD are good people who care about you.”

“I know. They are, you’re right,” she says, feeling silly.

“The mind can play mean tricks on you,” he says.

Her bottom lip wobbles as she tries not to cry. She’s been through so much before turning eighteen that she wonders if the aftershocks will be what takes her down.

“Peyton.”

She takes a shaky inhale. “Yeah?”

“One day at a time. It’s not always a straight line.”

“What isn’t?”

“Recovering.”

Peyton and Jake exchanged study materials once at some point and she read about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, finds herself nodding along with most if not all of what’s listed to get labeled with the diagnosis. It makes her feel less alone, but also so deeply sad that it’s such a common human experience that it can be labeled and billed by doctors.

She almost talks about it to Brooke because sometimes she wonders if all still impacts her; sometimes Brooke seems so unphased, to the point that even Peyton wonders if it’s real, even if she knows it’s not always true.

She does bring it up with Lucas, who quotes a book and author that she never heard of and says that it’ll pass, that time is moving forward, they’re experiencing good things, they’re healing.

It doesn’t feel like healing when it’s 3am and Peyton wants to scream at the memory of kissing her fake brother, pretending to want to kill Brooke.

Peyton starts winter break off with a debilitating period and it doesn’t register with her that she hasn’t been with Lucas in over a month until she’s on a plane to be with Brooke.

But like a lot of not-so-great things, she pushes it to the back of her mind to focus on the here and now: Brooke bundled up, beaming as she takes Peyton’s arm and talks her ear off about her vision.

Peyton sends pictures of her Clothes Over Bros designs to Lucas, Jake, Emily, Stacie. Lucas compliments them, Emily and Stacie ask how long it’ll take for the drawings to become items they can purchase in the store, and Jake exchanges stories.

Peyton draws them all.

When Peyton comes back to Savannah for her spring semester, she meets with Jake and Charlotte for a cup of coffee since they’re officially dating and Jake is thinking about asking Charlotte to be his girlfriend. Peyton is scared that Charlotte will hate her, but she’s extremely nice and goes out of her way to make sure no silence in between conversation topics lasts too long. She expresses interest in Peyton’s school, in her relationship with Lucas.

“She’s great,” Peyton says honestly to Jake when Charlotte uses the restroom.

Jake smiles bashfully. “I’m glad you like her.”

“I’ll watch Jenny and her daughter if y’all want to go out,” Peyton promises.

“Thanks, Pey.”

Peyton smiles brightly when Charlotte returns to the table. “I’m happy to babysit for your dates for very little compensation, just FYI.”

Charlotte just blinks and asks, “What do you consider ‘little compensation’?”

“Meals and coffee,” Peyton and Jake answer at the same time.

Peyton can see it – the blink and you miss it moment of nervousness – but Charlotte laughs and says that’s doable.

Brooke lets it slip that Lucas is surprising Peyton for Valentine’s Day. Peyton keeps her phone in her hand, her leg shaking during her classes as she expects the phone call, the fake ruse that Peyton will play along to until he says that he’s in town.

It doesn’t come.

Peyton has a boyfriend for the first-time during Valentine’s Day, but she feels like any one of the heartbroken girls on campus carrying chocolates to eat in the dorm alone.

Emily shares her supply and lets Peyton lay on her lap as she picks the chocolates she wants.

(Lucas does call her later, lamenting about school, the team, and doesn’t mention his idea to surprise her; she has to confirm with Brooke that it was real.)

But when he does come to Savannah a month later, it is a complete surprise that takes her aback, delights her that she completely forgets about what happened the month before.

She almost wishes she could’ve prepared because she is actually behind on some of her coursework due to trying to be social the past week and not getting as much homework done while babysitting Jake and Charlotte’s kids. But Lucas is gracious, giving her time to tie up loose ends, even if it means postponing dinner until she’s done working on a group project in her Design 101 class.

Except it’s like one moment she checks the clock and it’s seven, then the next it’s one in the morning. She forces herself to leave and run back to the Hilton where Lucas is staying.

Peyton is unsurprised and surprised. Unsurprised that Lucas has fallen asleep, given the hour. She still feels guilty even though she told him that this project was likely going to be running late. Surprised at what he’s wearing, by the little black box on the floor beside the bed.

Her heart thumps loudly and hard against her ribs. She bends down to pick it up, almost opening it, but afraid to do so. She almost wakes him up too, but she just makes her way to the chair in the corner of the room, rolling the box between her hands, inspecting the velvet, the gold hinges.

She loves him. Her love has changed with time, becoming the all-consuming need to be with him, the angst of when they were apart, but the reassurance that he was always there, even in the background.

I carry you around, in the background.

And now, it’s been over a year, and he’s comforting. They can go a few days without talking, but she’ll reach out, or he’ll reach out, and it’ll be like they’ve only stopped talking for five minutes. Sure, she wishes that their schedules would align more and they can see each other more, but it’s okay, it’s just temporary. What’s a couple of years in the face of forever?

She looks back down at the box. She hopes it’s not what her immediate thought was, because if it is, then maybe he’s not as sure about them as she is.

She’s almost startled when he finally wakes up on his own; she’s mostly taken aback at how she’s been in her own head for over an hour without realizing.

“Was just thinking about how much I love you,” she tells him when he asks why she didn’t wake him up.

Her heart completely sinks into her stomach when he comes over to her, getting on one knee, opening the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring.

Shouldn’t this feel right?

“Peyton, I love you. And I want us to be together forever –”

“Wait –” Peyton leans forward, wanting to pause this scene, feeling it already permanently imprint itself in her mind.

“I-I know it’s a bit sudden, okay but I mean, yesterday was a great day. And I’m sitting on the bus, and I realized none of my great days in my life matter without you. You’re the one I want next to me when my dreams come true, and you’re the one I want next to me if they don’t. As long as I have you, nothing else matters.”

All Peyton can think about as she listens to him is that there are a lot of Is in this declaration.

“It’s just not as simple as that, there’s a lot we need to talk about,” she says instead, getting to her feet to give them some distance.

“I know, but we’ll figure out the details – when we go back to Tree Hill –”

The involuntary physical reaction she feels is one of horror and disgust. No, is her automatic thought. She tells him – Tree Hill is a graveyard of all her trauma. She does what she can to stay away from home, even if that means running off to far away cities and staying in the horrible heat of Savannah in the dead of summer.

And the fact that he thinks that this is their happily ever after home is baffling to her.

She thinks she’s being reasonable, calm, talking about needing space, thought, years under her belt – since when was marrying someone at nineteen something that became feasible in her life?

“Nathan and Haley were much younger than that,” Lucas argues.

“Yeah, and we’ve seen how easy that’s been,” she retorts, dry and annoyed. They barely made it through and that’s only because they’re them. She doesn’t expect lightning to strike twice.

She feels herself bargaining in the face of his growing frustration, something he’s never brought up, not once.

“I’m not saying no, I’m saying not now,” she insists, pleading for him to understand.

She sees it happening in real time, his pulling back and away from her. He’s slipping through her grasp; he’s becoming one of the many that was on her bedroom wall.

“I love you,” she says, her voice cracking.

“Just not enough.”

And fuck, isn’t that the heart of the matter? Her love is never enough to make them stay.

So, she’s not surprised that it does end in goodbye. She dozes in his arms for the last time.

Lucas is gone when she wakes.

She walks out and it’s a beautiful March day. Lucas has taken part of her heart with him and there’s a dark void in its place, but it’s a cloudless, sunny day in Savannah.

And the world spins madly on.

Music is a constant, but this is the only time she’s made her way home without something filling in the silence.

She curls back into her bed. Tears stream from her eyes, but there’s no screaming or sobbing. There’s just a silent expulsion of tears, a quiet mourning during a quiet morning.

Emily comes in at one point, a land hand over her blanket-clad shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

Peyton shakes her head twice.

“…Okay. Do you need anything? I have a study group, but I’ll bring you some food a little later. Just call me, okay? If you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Peyton whispers.

“Do you want any music on?”

“No.”

Emily squeezes her shoulder, gathers some of her belongings, and leaves Peyton alone.

At the end of the day, picking apart a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Emily had made and dropped off a few hours ago, Peyton calls Brooke.

It goes to voicemail.

Peyton chucks her phone across the floor and leaves it there.

Emily brings Peyton’s phone to her the next afternoon.

“You have a few missed calls from Brooke,” Emily points out before squeezing her shoulder and leaving her.

Peyton almost doesn’t call out of spite, but she needs to speak with the only other person who understands the devastation of having and losing Lucas Scott.

“Hey,” Brooke says after the first ring. “I’m sorry I’m getting back to you so late.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I accidentally left my phone at my apartment after Lucas came by.”

Peyton blinks a few times. “What?”

“Yeah, I got word he was at a function with his new editor.”

Peyton loses feeling in her face. “I need to sit down,” she says stupidly; she’s already sitting in her bed. “Lucas broke up with me,” she says, making it real, almost feeling like a fool because Brooke must obviously know by now.

“Tell me what happened on your end and I’ll tell you what happened afterwards.”

Even though it hurts, Peyton forces herself to relive the last thirty-six hours. It takes Peyton a few times to bring the words together, to gather enough air in her lungs. “He proposed. I said not now, he heard no.”

She hears Brooke sigh. Peyton wishes they were next to each other, that she can rest her head in the crook of Brooke’s neck and scream, knowing that she could handle it.

“So, what, after seeing me, he flew to New York?” Peyton questions in disbelief.

“Pretty much. He said he got a call at the airport that an editor wanted to publish the book. It wasn’t until I showed him my place that he told me what happened.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him he was a fucking idiot,” Brook sighs. “Honestly, I think he was set on feeling rejected and suffering. I’m sure he’s going to realize he was being a major idiot and beg to take you back.”

Peyton sniffles. “I don’t think so, Brooke.”

“You’ve been through too much for this to be it.”

“I told him I love him and he said that wasn’t enough.”

The silence is piercing.

“Peyton. I want you to listen to me very, very carefully. Are you listening?”

Peyton knows that tone, that’s her Captain of the Cheer Squad, You Better Fucking Listening to Me or I’ll Rip Your Hair Out tone. “Yeah.”

“Your love is everything. If he doesn’t get it, and after all this time, that’s not okay. So don’t you dare think you’re not enough for him. Because right now, he’s not enough for you.”

Peyton wipes her face. “He’s everything,” she counters softly.

Brooke takes a shaky breath. “I know. And maybe I’m telling you this too soon, but I want you to remember it, okay? I love you and you will get through this.”

“I love you.” Peyton tries to hold back a sob, but doesn’t do a very good job.

Peyton falls back into her routine of school. She’s gotten used to not hearing from Lucas for days at a time, but now she checks her phone a million times a day, hoping it’ll be him, changing his mind.

She’s more than surprised though when she pulls out her phone to check again after spending three hours in the library, her phone rings with an incoming call from Nathan.

She answers in a panic. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out,” he says quickly in a whisper.

“Why are you whispering?” Peyton asks, her voice naturally lowering in volume.

“Haley’s now a light sleeper after Jamie being born; I don’t want to wake her up.”

“Ah. So…what’s up? Congrats on the win –”

“Luc told us about what happened. Well, at least from his point of view. I was hoping to hear yours.”

Peyton slows her walk until she fully comes to a stop. “What?”

Nathan sighs. She can hear a door shut. “Look,” he starts, his voice at a normal volume. “Lucas is my brother, and I love him. But I know you. I want to hear what happened.”

She wets her lips, begins walking again, and tells him about being surprised by his sudden visit, of his reservation of a nice restaurant, wearing a proper suit and tie. Proposing in a Hilton hotel room. Her saying not now, wanting them to follow their dreams.

“So, that’s it.” She’s proud of herself for not crying.

“I’m sorry, Peyton.”

“…How did Lucas tell you?”

She can picture him internally debating. “He said that you rejected him. That you don’t believe in him.”

Peyton stops walking, suddenly feeling like she’s going to be sick. She can’t even bring herself to argue.

“I know he’s hurting, but I know for a fact that’s not true. And I know you’re hurting too. I just wanted to make sure you know that someone’s in your court.”

She can’t get out of her own way and thank him, she’s too busy trying not to throw up the three granola bars she had for dinner. “I have to go.” She hangs up and promptly vomits into a gutter and cries.

Later, she considers a vision of a panel she has of everyone on her wall – where are you now? – being set on fire, herself holding the lighter, wondering if it’s all enough now, but she doesn’t put pen to paper.

It’s hard to be emotional and have a good cry when you share a room, so she goes on long drives, takes advantage of empty classrooms and art studios.

It’s almost weird that she and Jake have gone so long without speaking – it’s almost as if he senses something is wrong and is waiting for her.

And finally, she’s ready to call Jake, mostly grateful that she caught his voicemail.

She clears her throat. “Hey, Jake, it’s Peyton…I just wanted to give you the heads up that Lucas and I, uh, broke up. So, that’s why I’ve been MIA. I hope you and Jenny are okay. Just…don’t ask about it, when we next talk, please. Sorry, it’s stupid, I just…I can’t talk or think about it right now. So. Yeah. Speak soon. Bye.” She hangs up and a few tears fall down her face, but thankfully that’s all.

And two days later when they agree to grab dinner together, they usually hug when they see each other, but he holds her for a little longer, a little tighter than usual. She exhales shakily, taking comfort in his aftershave.

“Hey,” he says, smiling softly.

“Hey.”

He nods back to his car. “You ready?”

She smiles properly for the first time in over a week. “Yeah.”

In April, Peyton’s academic advisor goes through her projects and asks her what she wants to do. Peyton is still stuck between majors, undecided. Peyton piles sketchbooks from classes onto Professor Neal’s desk, rambling about pros and cons.

“Oh, these are great,” Professor Neal says, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping on an open sketchbook.

It takes Peyton a second to realize that her advisor is looking at her personal sketchbook with the panels of Jake and his clients. Peyton opens and closes her mouth, trying to figure out what to say.

Her advisor laughs after she turns the page and reads another panel. “Where did you come up with this?”

“Oh, it’s uh. Based on the stories my friend tells me about his job as a home health aide. It’s just something I do when I want a break from the assignments,” Peyton explains.

Her advisor keeps flipping through pages. “I think Sequential Art is a good fit. You have a knack of choosing the still that says much more beyond the text.”

Peyton blinks a few times. Growing up, they’ve always been snapshots of her life burned into her psyche – Lucas admitting he wanted it all, Jake on the dock with Jenny strapped to his chest. It feels strange to hear it as an artistic choice when it felt like they seemed to come from a place of needing to extract it outside of herself so it wouldn’t feel as heavy to carry by herself.

“Sequential Art,” Peyton repeats to herself.

There are more words said – things about what classes she should take for her major, which professors will challenge her the most. Peyton thinks about her future – the unknown starting to form itself into something that she might be able to make out on the horizon.

It’s the first time in a while that she feels like she can exhale fully.

Each day gets a little easier.

She focuses on her assignments, her exams, her friends. She avoids certain records and is okay.

It’s not until she considers the end of the semester and realizes she has nowhere to go.

“You’ll live with me in New York, obviously,” Brooke says easily. “It gets pretty gross here in the summer, but definitely not as brutal as North Carolina or Georgia, I’m sure.”

Peyton bites her bottom lip in thought. “Yeah.”

She’s still unsure, but she supposes it’s nice to know there is somewhere.

Peyton shares her dilemma with Jake and Charlotte over lunch. She’s barely touched her salad.

“I dunno, maybe I should think about renting something for the summer here? I could get a job – work and save – I just…it’s hard in New York with Brooke. She’s not around and yet her evil bitch of a mother is.”

“It’ll be hard to find something only available for three months,” Charlotte says with a frown. “I could ask around for you – I’m just concerned about your safety in that kind of situation.”

Peyton winces.

“Hey,” Jake says, catching her attention. “Worst case – I have a couch.”

Peyton catches Charlotte pause, looks at him from the corner of her eye, but then smiles reassuringly at Peyton. “Of course, you have a backup.”

“Oh no,” Peyton says immediately. “I couldn’t impose. No, just you asking about any rooms and I’ll do my own research – that’s more than enough. Thank you.”

If there’s one thing Peyton has learned is that she will never get in between a couple again. She refuses to fall into that role, or put herself even close to the position to allow that to be a possibility.

Charlotte smiles gratefully at her before deftly changing the conversation.

Peyton kisses someone new at a concert – a new band whose name she doesn’t remember because they’re not very good – and it’s not great, but she doesn’t cry afterwards and she doesn’t think about Lucas.

(She does both when she gets home, but she considers that progress.)

Peyton’s dad wrote down the wrong dates; he’s apologetic over the phone when she asks a week before the end of her semester about when he’s coming to Savannah. Peyton doesn’t even bother placating him – she just tells him to stay out at sea as long as he damn well likes. So, Peyton calls Jake, offers him twenty bucks, a large pizza, and whatever Entenmanns he wants.

“I don’t need the Entenmanns,” Jake insists. “Besides, I wasn’t able to help you move in like I promised.”

“But you’ll take pizza and my money?”

He grins. “At least there’s potentially all the basic food groups in a pizza – it’s good to have as a quick dinner when I don’t have time in between clients.”

She furrows her brow. “Are you okay? I thought you’ve spaced out your shifts enough.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I did, but Hat Lady needs more hours – she just got approved by her insurance. She was supposed to have a second aide, but she refuses. And I can’t watch her struggle, so…I’m working with her and I dropped one of my other clients. It’s still tight.”

She reaches out to squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry.”

He nods, glances down and clenches his jaw a moment. “Yeah. It’s, uh…not to be morbid, but…it’s going to hurt. You know? When the inevitable happens.”

“I know,” she mouths, fighting back sudden tears.

He squeezes her hand back tightly.

Peyton asks around and she finds someone named Rachel, who grew up in Savannah her entire life, goes to Savannah State University, and is subletting her bedroom in a condo that she shares with her mother because she’s traveling with her quite wealthy boyfriend.

“We didn’t grow up with much, so we’re used to that mentality of needing to find a way to make money in any way we can,” Rachel explains.

Peyton doesn’t personally understand, but she’s seen enough of it in Tree Hill to recognize it for what it is.

“My mom works two jobs, so y’all shouldn’t see each other very much. If you pay towards groceries, she’ll cook you meals. All she asks is quiet when she’s home, and you keep the space clean,” Rachel continues. “Before we finalize, she has to meet you, of course, but…”

“I’m interested, definitely. Let me know when I can meet your mom,” Peyton interrupts her eagerly, which makes Rachel smile.

“Great! Thank God I found you, someone normal.”

Peyton smiles but really wants to laugh – she’s not sure about that.

On the day Peyton plans on moving out of her dorm, Jake shows up with Charlotte.

“Hey!” Peyton greets them cheerfully. “I hope he didn’t force you to come help, I swear I don’t have –”

“Nope, I offered! After all, we’re friends too, right?” Charlotte interrupts her with a smile, but Peyton hears the underlying message.

“Yeah – yeah! Absolutely. I just wanted to spare you since I like you too much,” Peyton insists, but she knows she screwed up. Of course, she should’ve asked Charlotte. Will she ever stop being this person?

Peyton swallows over the lump in her throat. “Um, so, all my clothes are packed, I figured I could leave my winter stuff in your basement, if that’s still okay?”

“Yeah, that’s no trouble, Peyton,” Jake says. “And I know you were talking with someone about renting a room out, but there’s not an overlap, my couch is still available.”

Maybe it’s a bit of a cliché, but she finds herself standing at a crossroads, hating how familiar this is, that one road. And it didn’t matter the second time around she tried her best not to end up walking down it, she still ended up winding that way.

Now, she knows better.

“Yeah, that didn’t work out,” Peyton lies. “I think I need to be with Brooke for a while. Maybe find a hot model or something.”

Jake shakes his head and laughs. “I’m sure she’ll find you one.”

“I love New York – it’s definitely a city I can only visit – way too fast paced for me, but you should have a lot of fun,” Charlotte says. “You’ll definitely fare better up there versus down here. These summers are brutal if you’re not used to them.”

“Hey, Tree Hill summers were no joke either,” Jake counters playfully.

True, they’re brutal, but Peyton can already tell that Savannah would be worse the hottest summer days of her past.

“So, where should we start?” Charlotte asks, looking around the room.

Peyton figured if it was just Jake, she’d blast some of their favorite albums, maybe throwbacks to when they were kids, but Charlotte has few overlaps in her preferences, so they just have the radio on, switching between the latest hits station and the classic rock one.

When Peyton uses the restroom, she calls Brooke to let her know that she’ll be staying with her in New York.

“Are you sure? I mean, you know I’m thrilled to have you, but…I didn’t think this was your first choice?”

“It’s…I’ll tell you about it when I get there. I’ll confirm my flight later.”

“Good, I’ll send a car.”

“Brooke, you don’t have to –”

“Yes, I do! I refuse to drive to a New York airport, thus, sending a car is the next best thing.”

Peyton smiles and rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine.”

Brooke squeals in delight. “This is great – I swear I’m going to be more available. I’m doing better at delegating, I promise. I have all these places I want to go –”

Peyton lets Brooke chat away, allowing herself to genuinely feel happier about her choice.

When Peyton flies to New York, she’s prepared this time.

She has places she wants to visit, knowing that Brooke will be busy. Places where Brooke maybe wouldn’t want to go necessarily. Grungy bars with dark stages, record stores doubled as bookstores, quiet coffee shops where she can sit and sketch.

There are hours where she walks around the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, borrowing Brooke’s camera to take pictures to try her hand at painting later. Brooke warns her about walking around late at night, but she still does it when she can’t sleep, when there are nightmares.

She talks with Jake.

Some weeks it’s only once, sometimes it’s more. Regardless, he’s alone at home, in his car, at his client’s house when they’re napping.

“I gotta ask,” Brooke starts when they’ve sat down for dinner at a trendy new Italian restaurant. They almost missed their reservation because Peyton didn’t want to end her phone call with Jake.

“What?” Peyton asks warily.

Brooke stares directly into Peyton’s eyes. “What’s going on with Jake?”

“Brooke.”

“I know that look, Peyton. Your face – things have changed – or are changing. Do you like him again?”

“Of course I like him, Brooke, I’ve always liked him, he’s one of my best friends,” Peyton says, not really sure why she’s avoiding directly answering the question.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Brooke says, with a roll of her eyes, annoyed. “I was wondering why you suddenly changed your mind at the last minute to stay with me. I wondered if maybe you really couldn’t figure out an alternative, but then seeing you on that call – you left to get away, didn’t you? For his girlfriend?”

Peyton looks down guiltily at her menu. She hears Brooke sigh.

“Part of me always loved him,” Peyton admits quietly. “I just…I don’t know. I see Charlotte react to me and I get paranoid. I worry that I’ll make the same mistake without realizing. I don’t know how I feel about him, to be honest. But I don’t want to figure it out while complicating their relationship. They don’t deserve that.”

Brooke sighs deeply. When the waiter comes around, she orders a martini for herself and for Peyton. Once the waiter leaves, Brooke says, “Maybe for next semester you should try meeting guys in school. Jake’s great, but maybe spending so much time with him and talking to him isn’t helpful after Lucas.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Jake’s safe. And I get it after Luc, maybe you’re looking for security.”

Peyton tries to smile. “Are you secretly taking psych classes?”

“I’m serious, Peyton.”

“I know. I just…don’t really want to think too deeply about any of this. I just want to spend all the time I can with you, enjoy the city, maybe make out with another bass player…”

“Hah!”

Peyton thinks about it later, staring up at the ceiling of the bedroom that Brooke had designed specifically with Peyton in mind.

Did she like Jake like that?

It’s hard for her. Nathan was her first for a lot of things, but Jake was the first boy who she first felt she could be all of herself with. Jake was the first boy she said I love you to. Jake was the first boy she made love with, not just had sex or fucked.

Part of her is always going to feel a certain way about him.

And Lucas, well. She thought he was fate, that they were meant to be together after all the hardships, the misunderstandings – everything led back to him. It felt like the climactic burst of a six-minute song that makes you close your eyes in euphoria.

But then the next song played, the album scratched to a halt.

Life happened.

And here she is, one chapter of college complete, in the middle of a summer interlude. Lucas is still hundreds of miles away; they haven’t spoken in months.

Peyton sits up, throws the covers off of her bed and leaves her room, goes into the neighboring one to Brooke’s.

“What’s wrong?” Brooke asks immediately, her voice soft in the dark.

“You meant it, right? When we were talking on the stage about Lucas coming back from being away, and you saying that you weren’t as dependent on him. I said you didn’t really miss him, and you said I put words in your mouth – but that’s what you meant, right?” Peyton asks.

It takes Brooke a minute to answer – Peyton thinks that maybe she fell back asleep – but then Brooke says, “Yeah. You were right.”

Peyton exhales, tears prickling in her eyes, but all she feels is relief.

One night, Peyton is walking down Park Avenue, enjoying how empty it is at three in the morning, when her phone starts ringing.

Nothing good comes from a call in the middle of the night.

Her heart is in her stomach when she sees Jake’s name.

“What happened?” she asks.

The few beats of silence kill her. “It’s Rosa. She collapsed. I called 911. She’s…she’s not okay. I don’t think…”

Peyton is very confused for a second until she realizes that Thursday nights are his late nights with Hat Lady.

“Oh, Jake,” she exhales, slowing to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

They’re hundreds of miles apart and hearing him cry on the phone kills her. She always feels small walking down these avenues, but now she feels lost amongst the skyscrapers.

He’s calling the hospital for updates, not wanting to bother her family directly, half of whom are there. But she knows it’s not good when Jake tells her that the hospital is calling him now. She hangs up and hears her breath rattle in her chest. She shuts her eyes and tears fall down her face, imagining that phone call, knowing that she’s gone.

“Take care of her, yeah?” she whispers in a prayer to her moms.

She walks back to Brooke’s place slowly, half hoping for a call back, but by the time she’s crawling into bed, she’s resolved herself to the fact that she won’t get one.

Peyton gets confirmation of her passing the following night. Peyton considers coming down to Savannah for the funeral, but Brooke kindly stops that train of thought.

“If you were down there, absolutely, but…” Brooke trails off, wincing. “It’s…you coming all the way from New York…that’s what a girlfriend would do. And he’s not your boyfriend.”

She’s right, of course she is.

Instead, Peyton writes a card, drawing all the hats that Jake has described over the last few months, and sends it with love.

In August, Peyton talks with Emily about moving into their new dorm. They’re on the ground floor this time, so moving in and out will be easy, but it will be noisier.

It’s a busy month for Brooke, so there aren’t nights out in bars or restaurants or clubs. It’s late-night takeout and sharing bottles of wine as Brooke completes sketches and sews under a magnifying glass.

Jake tells Peyton that he and Charlotte have broken up. Charlotte is having a hard time with his hours and now that he’s planning on community college in the fall, there’s not enough space for her.

It’s all…adult. No drama, no tears. Just a long conversation about the future and deciding they’re incompatible.

“It’s almost dull in comparison to all the others we’ve seen and done,” Peyton says, trying to make him laugh, even though their first breakup nearly tore her apart.

(To this day, she still can’t listen to “Hear You Me” without wanting to cry.)

He laughs a little. “This is true.”

“I’m sorry, though. She’s great, but you’ll find someone else.”

“Yeah. Right now, I just want to focus on school, work, and Jenny. Mentally prepare for her going into pre-school.”

“Just remember, if a boy pulls her hair and the teacher or the boy’s parents say that he just likes her –”

“I will verbally eviscerate them, yes. What was that jerk’s name again, who did that to you?”

“Nick Joseph. He moved out of Tree Hill in the second grade, thank God.”

He laughs again, this time, her heart flips in her chest a little. “Right.”

Brooke inevitably becomes so busy that Peyton doesn’t see her for days at a time. Toward the end, when Peyton has to move back to Savannah, Peyton forces Brooke to step away from her designs and eat Chinese on the couch like they used to while studying for finals.

“You ready for sophomore year?” Brooke asks sleepily, her plate still on her lap.

Peyton sips her water and nods. “Yeah, you know, I think I am.”

“Mmm, that’s good…”

Peyton takes Brooke’s plate away, brings the throw blanket up to Brooke’s chin, and kisses her on the top of her head before turning in.

Starting sophomore year involves less stress and anxiety. Peyton’s dad surprises her by showing up as she and Jake are struggling to lift up her suitcase of clothes up the few stairs leading up to the dorm.

Peyton maybe tears up a little.

Jake gracefully bows out toward the end, allowing Peyton and her dad to grab dinner alone. They both feel sweaty and disgusting, but they go to a diner and load up on breakfast food.

He sounds invested when he asks about her schedule, how her summer was in New York, how Jake is doing. This last question he asks with a knowing glance.

Peyton puts down her soda a little too hard on the table. “We’re friends.”

“Okay,” her dad says, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Peyton goes back to her dinner for a minute. “Why – did you see something?” she asks.

Her dad throws his head back and laughs, which makes Peyton flush in embarrassment. Maybe it’s all just so obvious.

The fall semester starts at full speed, leaving Peyton very little time to breathe as she reviews syllabi, the sheer amount of work already overwhelming her at the thought of completing it all. She tries going to a party at the end of the week, but she ends up leaving early to get started on readings for Comm 105 and Context 121.

When she steps out of the library to grab something to eat at the student lounge down the road, she gets a call from Jake.

“You’re up late,” Peyton says, surprised.

“Hah, I know. Fell asleep on the couch and just woke up. Just wanted to check in. haven’t heard from you this week.”

She allows herself to smile as no one she knows is around her. “I’m okay. Well, busy. It’s a lot.”

“I bet.”

“What about you – when are you starting classes?”

“I just did today, hence passing out on the couch.”

“You’ll get used to it,” she says reassuringly.

“I forgot how exhausting school can be.”

“You missed it, don’t lie.”

Jake sighs. “I did. Can’t lie to you, Pey.”

Peyton smiles. “Let’s try to grab dinner – two weeks? That should be enough time. You can come to campus, I’ll swipe you.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind an early-bird special.”

“I’ll block out five o’clock in my calendar.”

She doesn’t need to see him to know that he’s smiling.

September comes and goes, and eventually they figure out their busy schedules.

Peyton has rediscovered her love of watching Jenny grow up over the last year, and now as she starts preschool, Peyton starts to understand why parents wish they can slow time down.

“I remember when I could cradle her in my arms,” Peyton shared, admittedly teary when Jenny excuses herself to go to the bathroom after telling Peyton about her new friend that she made today.

Jake nods, his own eyes suddenly glassy with tears. “I know. It’s crazy. She’s always had a personality, but it's just…she’s so vibrant, you know?”

Peyton does know. Jenny is sweet, happy, and caring. The very best of Jake Jagielski.

She draws Jenny later, takes the time to color her hair like sunlight, her eyes the color of a lake reflecting lush trees. Jake had once told Peyton that Jenny got most of her looks from his side of the family, particularly his mom’s, and he’s secretly glad for it.

The number of compliments Peyton gets when she walks around town with them, saying her daughter is beautiful, that she’s the spitting image of her, is a lot. Peyton attempts to stutter through a thanks and an explanation denying the familial relation, but people usually move on. Peyton thanks the person on behalf of Jenny since she is a beautiful little girl.

During a brisk October day though, someone makes the usual compliment – beautiful like her mother, with a warm smile to Peyton – and Jake says, “I think so too.”

He smiles at her and Peyton feels her heart flip in her chest.

(Although later, much later into the semester when they’re both too drunk, Jenny being watched by a kind high schooler who lives down the block, Jake admits that sometimes he imagines that Nikki had nothing to do with Jenny’s creation, that the blonde hair and light eyes were due to genetics from a different mother. Peyton whispers that she’s had the same thoughts too – it doesn’t make them bad people, does it?)

Another client of Jake’s dies. Jake finds him in bed, looking peaceful from a sleep he’ll never wake up from. He tells Peyton this over the phone while choking back tears as he waits for the Medical Examiner to arrive.

Peyton watches Jenny while Jake attends the funeral and shiva. They’re in the art building – Jenny sitting across from her with her coloring book, and Peyton standing at an easel, but not doing much painting as she should be doing.

She’s too busy thinking about Jake, wishing she was with him, wondering if he’ll let her hold him, thinking that maybe she needs to figure out what is going on.

She sighs out loud, which startles Jenny from her coloring.

“Sorry, baby,” Peyton says.

“S’ok. Are you okay, Aunt Pey?” Jenny asks, her blue-green eyes wide.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Peyton answers reassuringly. “Just hoping your daddy will be okay. It’s a tough day for him.”

Jenny frowns. “Yeah.” She goes back to coloring for a minute and then says, “You make him happy. He’s always happy when you’re around.”

Peyton hides her smile by biting the end of her paint brush. “Yeah,” she eventually says. “I feel the same way.”

Jenny smiles up at her. “I knew it.”

“I bet you did. You’re a smart girl.”

Jenny preens and Peyton thinks that if a four-year-old girl can decipher what the hell is going on here, then maybe Peyton is overcomplicating it.

Peyton has seen Jake perform a few times while being in Savannah. Her friends have too, but she can feel Stacey’s gaze on her as Peyton has difficulty not smiling at Jake’s cover of “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” at the cafe they’re in.

“Girl,” Stacey says quietly as they find an open table with their hot beverages.

“What?” Peyton asks, feeling her face grow hot.

Stacey snorts. “Oh, you already know.”

Peyton sighs. Stacey reaches out to pat her hand.

“So, you like Jake again?”

At least Brooke doesn’t sound judgmental, but Peyton still feels her face flushing. “I don’t like how that sounds, like I’m flip flopping.”

Peyton doesn’t need to be next to Brooke to know that she is wincing. “Well…”

Peyton groans and falls back onto her pillow.

“Okay, well, I mean…you loved Jake. Those feelings just don’t completely disappear.”

“They’re supposed to when you were telling another man a few months ago that you would’ve married him,” Peyton admits softly.

“No,” Brooke says immediately. “That’s completely different. You told Lucas you would say yes in the future.”

“Yeah, but that means I was thinking about marrying him in the present.”

“Of course you were – you loved him! You probably thought about that with Jake and adopting Jenny too when you were dating! I think that’s normal, no?”

Peyton opens her mouth to ask if Brooke thought that with Lucas too, but that’s not being fair at all and she doesn’t want to open that can of worms. “I guess,” she mutters. “It just…it looks bad.”

“Look, Peyton…Lucas was inevitable with you. You had an immediate connection; it was always going to be a ‘what if’ in the back of your mind no matter what. He was always going to be the guy you went back to, or thought of,” Brooky continues.

“And what’s Jake, then?” Peyton asks, desperate and confused.

“I think Jake is a really kind guy who makes you smile more than I’ve ever seen you smile,” Brooke answers softly. “I think Jake understands your love of music more than anyone else. I think Jake is a safe harbor for you. And I don’t mean that as like, he’s a safety net, or something negative. I mean I think he’s the home you’ve been looking for since your mom died, Peyton.”

Peyton bites her bottom lip hard, but that doesn’t stop the tears from strolling down her face. “Oh.”

She hears Brooke exhale a laugh. “After everything we’ve been through – everything – do you really give a shit about what anyone on the outside really thinks?”

Peyton is nineteen going on twenty and she has seen more than most people will ever see in their entire lifetime.

“You’re right. Who cares? I have feelings for Jake, and life is too short,” Peyton says, sitting up with determination.

“That’s right, go get your man!”

“Yeah, I – wait, no, I can’t, Jake is in class until nine. And he has finals to study for…” Peyton trails off.

“Maybe when he’s done!”

“Yeah, totally,” Peyton says strongly.

Except that doesn’t happen because Jake ends up telling Peyton that he got asked out by one of his classmates on the last day of classes and they’re going to go out on a date in January. Peyton smiles brightly and helps him pick out a date spot. And later, when she’s driving back to campus, after she parks her car, she sits there with the stereo blasting New Found Glory’s new album, crying as she hears it’s not your fault, so please stop your crying now.

Peyton opts to stay at school during the holidays. Brooke attempts to argue, but Peyton can hear her second phone buzzing constantly during the call, her computer chiming with new notifications. It doesn’t take much for Brooke to begrudgingly agree for Peyton to not spend the holidays with her.

There are a few students staying back for the holidays, so she gets to know some people she otherwise never would’ve interacted with, like members of the indoor track and field team, and a few women on the equestrian team.

Jake invites Peyton over for an afternoon to bake cookies and make gingerbread houses with Jenny. Peyton asks to meet his classmate, whom he plans on going out with – a nice girl named Shaundel who has silver and gold weaved through her locks because she thought it would be festive.

She’s smart and has a stunning smile that lights up the room. Jenny immediately takes to her, and who wouldn’t?

“I know Jake said that you’re a friend and Jenny’s mom is out of the picture right now, but she really does look like you,” Shaundel says when Jake steps out to grab packages that were delivered.

“We get that a lot,” Peyton says with a shake of her head. “But her hair is already getting darker – I’m sure in a few years it’ll be a shock that she was ever blonde to begin with.”

“You’ve met the mother?” Shaundel asks with a raised brow.

Peyton raises one in return. “When you don’t have anything nice to say…” she trails off.

Shaundel throws her head back and laughs. “I see, I see.”

“You see what?” Jake asks innocently.

“How much of a nerd you are,” Peyton says teasingly.

“Oh, okay, I see how it is,” Jake says with a smile and an amused shake of his head.

It’s a really nice afternoon. In fact, Peyton is looking forward to seeing more of Shaundel come the new year, even if that means Jake won’t be Peyton’s in the way that she wishes.

But it’s okay. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen when it’s supposed to.

Later, the day that Jake and Jenny leave for Atlanta to stay with his parents for Christmas and New Year’s, Peyton gives them their gifts: Jake gets a new, smart bag to replace his ratty canvas one that he’s had since high school, and Jenny gets a fun boombox and some of Peyton’s favorite CDs (with Jake’s approval) that she liked when she was four and five.

“Thank you, thank you!” Jenny exclaims, hugging Peyton tightly.

Peyton plants a kiss on the top of Jenny’s head and smiles over at Jake, who watches them with undisguised fondness.

On Christmas Eve, her dad comes into town and asks if she’s available. Peyton hides in her dorm room and blatantly lies, saying that Brooke whisked her away for Christmas at the last second.

Peyton listens to the mixes Emily had made for her in preparation for this holiday season: an eclectic mix of classic holiday songs and recent punk editions like blink-182’s “I Won’t Be Home for Christmas” and Jimmy Eat World’s cover of “Last Christmas.”

Peyton hates her a little for having Frank Sinatra’s “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” as the penultimate track of the second mix. That song never fails to make her cry. But then following it up with “12 Days of Christmas” by Relient K is enough to make her love Emily again.

It’s New Year’s Eve and Peyton is driving on backroads, listening to Commit This to Memory, which has always felt like a winter album, even when it came out in June.

This must be it, welcome to the New Year, Justin Pierre starts off the tenth track. A melancholy song with depressing lyrics like these humans all suck, I’d rather be home feeling violent and lonely.

She doesn’t think she feels that down, but she is grateful that she’s not anywhere for New Year’s – no party with gross, lukewarm beer, no unwanted kiss at midnight. Instead, she’s inside with a bottle of expensive champagne that Brooke had shipped to her, listening to her favorite albums of the year back-to-back as she draws the latest panels involving Jake and his fascinating clients.

The ball drops in Times Square and Peyton sips her champagne to welcome in the new year.

This must be it, welcome to the New Year.

Peyton is a coward and afraid to ask Jake come the second week of January when he’ll be taking out Shaundel. Peyton’s avoidance is rewarded – or really punished – when she bumps into Shaundel while trying to shop for a birthday gift for Stacey.

Shaundel seems to be with a friend, their arms looped together in a way that makes Peyton miss Brooke. Shaundel greets Peyton happily.

“This is Peyton, Jake’s friend from high school,” Shaundel explains to her friend, whose startling green eyes light up in recognition.

“Hi! I’m Beth, nice to meet you,” she says with a warm smile.

“What are you up to?” Shaundel asks.

“Oh, I’m trying to find a birthday gift for one of my friends,” Peyton explains.

“I have the perfect store,” Shaundel says at once because of course she does.

“Why don’t I call my grandma now and I’ll catch up with you,” Beth says, taking out her cell.

“Okay, we’ll be at that kitchy store –”

“Got it! Hey, Grandma, how are ya? I got a few minutes…”

Shaundel takes Peyton into a store two blocks up that seems to be a collection of all sorts of random things – from clothes, to jewelry, to bags, to pillows, to ornaments.

“I’ve found plenty of things here for different people,” Shaundel says.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Peyton starts perusing the earrings, wondering if she can find a pair that Stacey will like, but her search is interrupted when Shaundel says lightly, “Jake’s told me. About you – and him. I know you weren’t just friends in high school.”

Peyton stops walking, stops breathing. “Oh,” Peyton says dumbly, not sure how to respond to that. “Yeah, it’s…it was a couple of years ago.”

Shaundel smiles knowingly. “It’s okay. I knew what I was getting into before New Year’s. I didn’t think you would get in the way, or anything.”

“Didn’t?” Peyton repeats.

“Well – wait, did Jake not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Shaundel blinks a few times. “Oh, well –” For the first time, Shaundel seems unsure, a little nervous. “I, uh. We’re going to remain friends.”

“Really?” Peyton asks, confused. She also hates herself a little for the relief she experiences.

“Yes, I…I found someone else,” Shaundel says, eyes wandering away from Peyton.

“Oh, well…congratulations?” Peyton offers.

Shaundel smiles as if she can’t help herself, her gaze going outside. Beth is now there, still on the phone, laughing brightly.

Now this all seems familiar.

Peyton reaches out to take Shaundel’s hand. “I understand,” she says quietly.

Shaundel looks at her completely panicked; Peyton wonders for a moment how Anna is, if this fear will ever really go away at being seen for who you are.

“Let’s go outside, I can tell you about a friend of mine,” Peyton says, gently urging her out of the store.

Beth’s smile falls at once when she notices their faces, but Peyton tries to smile reassuringly.

“Grandma, I have to call you back,” Beth says before hanging up.

Peyton tells them about Anna, about her strength. How people assumed Peyton was a lesbian, the slur on her locker, that she tried to reclaim it on a shirt. Peyton knows there are a lot of dark and ugly things in this world – loving someone, even if it’s not what people expect, isn’t any one of those things.

Shaundel and Beth tell Peyton that they met at a New Year’s Eve party – both knew the host through different people. They saw each other across the room and it was fate, they knew it. Peyton tries not to wince at thinking this with Lucas.

They kissed in a quiet corridor a few minutes after midnight.

They haven’t told many people.

“You’re secret’s safe with me,” Peyton promises.

Later, when she knows Jake is out of class, she calls him.

“I don’t feel bad about it,” Jake says in regards to being rejected. “She feels this is something that she has to explore, and I respect that.”

She swallows over the lump in her throat. “Right.”

It’s quiet between them.

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” Peyton says, her voice sure. And it’s not a front. “Because it’s not a ‘what if’ anymore that I’ll never fully get over. It has a beginning, middle, and end. I know the ending.”

“It might not be,” Jake says. “You never know what life throws at you.”

She snorts. “Don’t I know it.” She wets her bottom lip. “I just don’t see a future with someone who gave up on us before I even realized he did.”

Her words hang in the silence for a minute before she clears her throat. “Besides,” she starts suddenly. “There are so many other things to focus on. I want to see if I can get an internship for the summer. And maybe join a club. There’s a lot to do this year and I don’t need anyone holding me back or making me second guess what I want.”

“You shouldn’t have anything holding you back. You’re capable of changing the world with your pens.”

“I don’t know about that,” she says dismissively, but smiles. “I think you’re doing more world-changing by doing your job.”

“Ah, well,” he stutters, embarrassed. “I’m glad you like her. She’s a cool person.”

She allows him to change the subject. “For sure. I wouldn’t mind hanging out with them…once you’ve recovered,” she says.

“Sure, that would be great,” he answers genuinely enough.

To his credit, he does coordinate a dinner three weeks later as a group and it’s a really nice time.

Peyton talks with her professors about summer internships. Most require her to submit her work and most of the studios – big and small – are in cities like New York and LA, some in Canada too. Her academic advisor gives her tips on how to improve her portfolio.

Peyton attends the anime club for two weeks just to say she tried a club, but she doesn’t think it’s for her. Although she did exchange numbers with one of the members, Sasha, who is more than happy to provide her anime recommendations and make her J-Rock mixes.

The spring semester is going just great: she’s on top of her work, she thinks she may have a shot at maybe getting an internship, her school work is manageable, her friendships are great…

“I think you need to get laid,” Brooke interrupts Peyton as she’s power walking through Savannah.

Peyton nearly trips on a bit of broken sidewalk. “Brooke!” she hisses, her already flushed face heating further.

"You just seem a little frustrated. It’s been a year, I mean…do you want to maybe start thinking about dating?”

Peyton stops walking.

It’s really been a year?

“Uh, well…” Peyton starts.

“Even just a good makeout,” Brooke backpedals.

“Well, what about you?” Peyton counters as a sad means of deflecting.

“Oh, I hooked up with a model three days ago. His dick was meh, but he was an excellent kisser…” Brooke trails off and Peyton can see her wiggle her eyebrows in her head.

But Peyton can admit to herself that she’s a little jealous.

“I’ll keep an open mind,” Peyton relents.

“Good! You should actually enjoy college – isn’t it all about hooking up and making out over jungle juice?”

“That was high school.”

“…You know, that’s a fair point. More of the same, just no parents for hundreds of miles!”

“…Again, that was high school.”

Brooke laughs loudly. “Damn! I don’t know then!”

Peyton laughs too.

To Brooke’s credit, it is nice to make out with a boy, even if he’s on the lacrosse team and has a picture of Eva Mendes on the wall of his dorm.

But what isn’t nice is waking up in said dormitory with a headache and being unable to find the top she came to the party in, so she ends up stealing a SCAD shirt, figuring it’s the least damning thing she could wear.

Emily laughs at her as soon as she comes into the room.

“I’m hungover and my top is missing. This sucks,” Peyton whines.

“You have twenty minutes until your breakfast with Jake,” Emily reminds her.

“Shit!” Peyton gasps, whipping off the borrowed shirt to find something else to wear.

Jake shrugs his shoulders over breakfast the next day. “Well, at least he has good taste,” he jokes.

Peyton snorts into her coffee. “I guess, but it’s impossible to compare to that, you know?”

“I think if you remove Hollywood people from the equation, you have nothing to worry about,” he tells her.

She flushes and busies herself by cutting up a large piece of French toast to stuff in her mouth. “But, if Eva Mendes were to come strolling in –”

“You immediately turn into a foot, sorry,” he says deadpan before smiling.

She laughs a little.

They eat in silence for a minute.

“So, you’re going to lean into the college experience for a bit?” he asks.

Peyton shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean…I never really cared for hooking up with random people and never seeing them again. It’s not a bad thing, I mean, it’s just…I don’t really see it happening again. Brooke kind of got in my head, so.”

“Ah.” He smiles at her.

“Y’know, the offer is still there, if you want to live the college experience,” Peyton offers.

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m okay. I’m just looking for someone I can sit on the couch with Jenny and watch a really crappy kid’s movie. And like some of the same songs.”

She swallows and nods in understanding.

Once upon a time, she thought Lucas and her were fate based on some of their favorite songs.

But while music is her world, there are still gaps between tracks, silence between record flipping and album changes, and something has to fill them.

Jake is humming under his breath as he counts his money to pay his half of the bill and it takes her a few bars to recognize it as a deep cut from one of Dashboard Confessional’s early EPs.

Later, when she searches through her music, finds the music, shuts her eyes in bed, she considers and do you like making out? And long drives? And brown eyes?

Her eyes open in defeat.

Peyton is walking into Barnes and Noble on a wonderful Saturday in the beginning of April, planning on heading toward the CD section when she sees a book cover with a raven on it. An Unkindness of Ravens.

By Lucas Scott.

Peyton stares at the cover, trying to read it again but finding the letters aren’t making sense, like they’re switching in front of her eyes.

She doesn’t realize her legs have given out until she hears a shriek by her ear.

“Are you alright?!”

Peyton’s breath sounds weak and short to her ears. She nods once.

“Are you sure? You look like you’re going to faint!”

The concerned person sounds far away.

Peyton attempts to sound out words, but her lips feel dry and too big, and her vision goes gray along the edges.

Peyton faints.

She wakes up about a minute later after someone lifts her up and another person is trying to offer water. Someone is on the phone with EMS.

“I’m fine,” Peyton insists weakly. She takes the water that’s offered and carefully sips it. “I just got lightheaded,” she lies.

“You should still get checked out by EMTs, dear,” says the person who had tried to help her earlier. Peyton can now see she’s an elderly woman with a cane. Someone who could be one of Jake’s clients.

Peyton speaks with EMS even though she’s completely embarrassed. She lies and says she hasn’t eaten too long due to studying, which they seem to take at face value. They ask if she wants to go to the hospital for a full evaluation, but she vehemently declines.

The nice staff at the café offer her a sandwich and a cookie. Peyton tips them the cost of both and buys a copy of Lucas’ book.

Peyton calls Haley while driving on the highway. She’s speeding. She realizes suddenly that she hasn’t spoken to Haley in weeks, maybe months at this point. What’s happened to them?

“Hey, Peyton –”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Lucas’ book?” Peyton demands. “I had to find it for myself in the store – I passed out!”

“What?! Are you okay?!”

“No, I’m not! Because I was blind sighted by my ex-boyfriend publishing his first novel without any warning!”

Peyton hears Haley mutter a shit, which would normally make Peyton laugh, but she’s too angry to find it funny. “I’m sorry, Peyton, I just – time got ahead of me, and I didn’t realize the publishing date, I got the book a while ago, and…I’m sorry. I could’ve and should’ve prepared you.”

Peyton clenches her teeth. She knows Haley is busy juggling school and being a mom and supporting Nathan. But Peyton isn’t willing to let go of her rage yet.

“I’m really sorry,” Haley insists, sounding tearful.

Peyton squeezes the steering wheel tightly. “I know you are. It just…took me by surprise,” she says flatly.

She speeds up to pass someone who’s going too damn slow.

“Did you…get a copy?”

“Of course I did,” Peyton snaps. She tries to take a breath. “I have to go.” She hangs up and continues onward.

Eventually, Peyton calls Brooke.

“Haley told me,” Brooke says as soon as she picks up the phone. “I’m sorry.”

Peyton hates the tears that come hard and fast, rolling down her face. “Did you read it yet?”

“I made my assistant buy a copy. It’s on my desk.”

“I bought it too. I haven’t taken it out of the bag,” Peyton admits.

“There’s no rush to read it.”

Peyton takes a breath, going over to where she placed the book, pulling it out of the bag with shaking hands.

She knew he could do it, but holding it in her hands makes her heart swell with such pride beyond the anxiety she feels about what he’s written.

“I’ll let you know when I start – you’ll do the same?” Brooke offers.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

Peyton doesn’t know how to answer that – she must answer in a somewhat positive way because before she knows it, Brooke has hung up and Peyton is slowly turning the hardcover, the title page, the table of contents, the dedication to his mom and sister.

She cries when she reads the first page. It takes her a few tries to get past it, honestly. And even when she gets to page three, she slams it shut.

Later, she hands the book to Emily and begs her to read it first, to let her know how it is.

“I just need to be prepared,” Peyton explains.

Emily nods, her face serious. “You got it.”

It takes Emily a couple of days of reading before she hands the book back to Peyton, her face carefully blank.

“Well…? What did you think?” Peyton basically demands.

Emily sighs as she sits down on Peyton’s bed. “I think your life was absolutely crazy, first off.”

Peyton can’t deny that.

“But he’s talented. And it’s obvious that he’s written you from a place of love, for what it’s worth,” Emily continues.

Peyton nods and picks up the book, her fingers running over the pages.

“Peyton,” Emily says to get Peyton’s attention. “Lucas proposed to you and then broke up with you the same night. I just want you to remember that – these words on the page may last forever, but his believing forever with you was ultimately conditional.”

Tears spring to Peyton’s eyes as she watches Emily stand up.

“I’ll leave you to it – just call me when you want to grab dinner.”

Peyton nods and opens the book to chapter one. She doesn’t hear Emily shut the door.

Peyton figures it’s like ripping off a band aid – better to do it all at once. So, she reads the book in one sitting.

She’s touched by what he’s written about her, getting glimpses to how she felt when she was unseen at sixteen. The way he crafts his sentences is careful and thoughtful.

She wants to reach out and tell him that he’s created something beautiful to commemorate them and their friends, but she’s afraid to bridge that gap.

Peyton calls Brooke to talk about it. She’s also read the book in one sitting the night before.

“I agree, it is nice, but I wish he changed our names.”

Peyton didn’t think about that.

“Oh.”

“I mean, it should be fine, what are the odds that this will become a bestseller – it’s such a crapshoot.”

“Right.”

Except Brooke isn’t right. Within the next couple of weeks, it does become a bestseller. And word gets around campus that the Peyton Sawyer in the book is on campus.

“Oh, fuck this shit,” Peyton says as soon as the sixth person did a double-take at her in the dining hall.

“You know, Savannah can be like Tree Hill. Small. Word gets around,” Jake says.

Peyton groans loudly. “You’ve heard.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve known for a while, actually. Was just wondering when you were going to bring it up.”

She gapes on the phone, feeling a little betrayed. “How did you know?”

“My new client worked in publishing. He’s into finding new authors. When I told him I was from North Carolina, he said he just read a book by a young man from North Carolina. Recognized the name.”

“Oh.”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

She sighs. “It took me a few tries to read it. But I did. It’s good.”

“I’m not surprised. He’s read a lot – never doubted his writing would be good.”

She hums in agreement, not sure what else is there to say. “Are you going to read it?” she asks, suddenly nervous at the idea of Jake reading Lucas’ words.

“Yeah, I will, just…busy with school, and…” He takes a breath. “I wanted to check in with you about it.”

“Why?” she asks, perplexed.

“Because…it seemed personal, even if he did publish it for the world to read.”

Peyton feels such a wave of fondness for Jake that her breath hitches in her throat, like she’s about to be pulled into a riptide. “You can – you should read it. Please don’t let me stop you.”

“It’s also like…you’ve seen Before Sunset, right? The sequel to Before Sunrise?”

“Yeah, with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy,” she answers.

“It’s like what Celine says about Jesse’s book – knowing that a character is based on you – it’s flattering and disturbing at the same time.”

Peyton doesn’t remember that, but she understands it completely, reading Lucas’ recollections of their shared memories. “Yeah…I guess that’s true, actually.”

No, what Peyton remembers the most from that movie is Celine saying that nobody can be replaced, because everyone is made of such beautiful, specific details. She thought of both of her moms when she saw that movie.

“I’ll let you know when I get to reading it.”

“Okay. For what it’s worth – you’re portrayed very positively,” she says.

“Oh, good, I’m glad,” he responds in such a cheerful way that makes her laugh.

“Just so you know,” Brooke starts while Peyton and her are both working on tight deadlines in the middle of the night. “I ripped Lucas a new asshole for using our actual names in his book.”

Peyton snorts before realizing what Brooke said. “You spoke to him?”

“Well...not him…directly…”

Peyton sighs and puts down her pen. “Brooke, what did you do?”

“I may or may not have left a strongly-worded voicemail to his editor.”

“Brooke!” Peyton exclaims with a laugh. “Why did you do that? You could’ve just called him directly.”

“I blocked his number.”

Peyton blinks a few times. “You what?”

“What? After that shit he pulled with you? I don’t care to have him in my life,” Brooke explains dismissively.

Peyton bites her bottom lip. She thought about deleting Lucas’ number, but then she didn’t want to be blindsided one day in the case he did reach out…and then one day she stopped seeing his name on her recent calls log. And then eventually it just stopped mattering when she’d scroll past his name on her contacts.

And now…

“I did talk with Haley…are you still pissed at her?”

Peyton shakes her head to get rid of her line of thought. “I mean, a bit, but…I know she’s got a full plate. And I know she’s Lucas’ friend first, so.”

“Hey, we’re all friends.”

Peyton smiles sadly. “Hm.”

She can hear Brooke laugh a little too, recognizing the statement for what it is – a bit of a joke.

“We’ll never stop being friends. You and me forever, P. Sawyer,” Brooke states.

“I love you, B. Davis.” Peyton picks her pen back up and starts sketching again.

They work together in silence for the rest of the night.

As she’s eating lunch in the dining hall after her Illustration class, she finds herself drafting a letter to Lucas.

It bothers her enough that she pulls out her sketchpad, rips out a piece of paper, and begins writing in pen.

If she’s going to do this, she doesn’t want to second guess her word choices. If she’s going to do this, she better be damn sure.

It’s not the most verbose thing in the world. There’s a greeting, a wish that he’s well, an acknowledgment that she read his book. Noting her annoyance that he didn’t change the names because, really, what the hell, but.

It’s a beautiful snapshot of their lives in Tree Hill. She never doubted his abilities, she’s not surprised, and she’s happy for him.

She’s also happy for herself, where she is in her life, and she hopes that he feels the same way.

And maybe, if they run into each other in New York, or maybe even in Tree Hill, they can at least manage a hello.

She mails it to Nathan and Haley, figuring that they’ll give it to Lucas the next time they see him.

Jake is stretched very thin, with getting his school work done on time on top of his job, his guitar-playing side gig, and caring for Jenny. Peyton tries to help when she can, despite her own busy schedule. She tries to tell herself that it’s because he’s one of her best friends, but she’s not dumb enough to believe that.

Peyton kisses Jake. It’s not intentional.

Well, sort of. In her defense, she’s exhausted, dozing on the couch with the TV on as Jenny sleeps peacefully in her room. She agreed to watch her while Jake was working on a group presentation for his Contemporary Social Welfare Policy class.

Jake comes in and he looks faded on his feet, smiling at her with half closed eyes.

“I made you some dinner – nothing fancy, just some pasta and some meatballs I stole from the food hall,” Peyton tells him as she slowly puts on her jacket.

Jake looks at her and it’s been a long time since she’s seen him look at her this way: soft around the eyes, appreciative…loving.

She can’t help herself when she brings a hand to his face. “Eat and get some sleep.”

“Are you okay to drive?” he asks with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I’ll just blast something loud, I’ll be fine,” she says with a wave of her hand.

He brings her into a hug. “Thanks, Pey, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs by her temple.

She swallows. “Me neither.”

She sees it coming, ultimately, in the moment. It feels natural to stay in his space, to smell the faded soap on his skin, his warmth radiating. Even though in the grand scheme of things, they weren’t together for long, it's still instinct when they both turn their faces toward each other, meeting in the middle for a soft kiss that has her catching her breath.

It doesn’t last long, and he doesn’t pull away, but he pauses. “Um,” he starts, unsure.

She swallows over the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to take it back,” she says.

There’s a beat of silence before Jake snorts, leaning into her so his forehead touches hers. “Okay. Yeah. Me neither.”

“Okay…good.” She smiles, wider.

He brings a hand to her cheek. “I’m really, really tired.”

“I have to get up early to work on my Sequential Art final.”

He takes a deep breath, then steps back. “Night, Peyton.”

“Night.”

“Tomorrow’s my crazy day, but I’ll call you? Not sure when, but I will.” His tone and his face are earnest and she just wants to – well. She wants a lot of things. But it’s very late, and they both have responsibilities, and –

“Bye, Jake,” she says, walking past him, but not before sneaking a quick kiss to his cheek on the way out.

When driving back to her dorm, she puts on Dashboard Confessional’s Dusk and Summer, already eager for the beginning of summer for another reason. And even though the album came out last year, “Stolen” is getting radio traction in a way that’s new for the band.

She skips to the track because she’s feeling sappy and romantic and feels it in her soul when she sings, you are the best one, of the best ones.

After five hours of sleep, Peyton wakes up in too good of a mood.

“What’s up?” Emily asks in a grumpy tone.

Peyton can’t hold back her smile. “Jake and I might be starting something.”

Emily is now wide awake. “No way!” she shrieks as she grabs Peyton’s arm. “I need coffee right now, so talk as we go!”

Peyton laughs freely as she tells her along the way.

“…Peyton Sawyer…” Brooke starts with a laugh once Peyton stops talking. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I’m happy,” Peyton confirms.

“Good. I always loved how he made you smile.”

“I’ve missed being this happy.”

Peyton can hear Brooke sniffle. “Me too.” Brooke clears her throat. “So, in terms of this summer…would Jake and Jenny want to visit?”

“Well, I don’t know if I will get an internship…we’ll see.”

Peyton later confirms that she didn’t manage to snag any internships for summer, but she’s not concerned. The right one will come along next year, she knows it. Besides, she thinks she wants to take a shot at a graphic novel…maybe see if Emily has time to help her with the dialogue.

“Hey, I just have five minutes – driving to my fellow North Carolina client. How’s your day going?” Jake asks.

“It’s been a really, really good day,” Peyton says.

“Yeah, same here.”

They make plans to talk tomorrow, to make plans for the weekend, but the next day, she gets a voicemail from him while she’s in class that he has to catch up on a paper and that they’ll talk the next day. His tone seemed off to her, but she tries to brush it off, figuring that whatever it is, he’ll tell her.

Jake calls her after her Sequential Art class. She barely lets it ring once before she answers.

“Hey – you’re done with classes, right?”

Her brow furrows at the shortness of his tone. Something is wrong. “Yeah. Is everything okay?”

“Are you heading back to your dorm?”

“Yeah, uh…I have Context in twenty minutes, but I need to drop my art supplies off. Do you want to come over, or –”

“See you in a few.”

She thinks for a wild second that maybe he wants to end what barely even started, but he wouldn’t sound so…urgent about it. Unless…

She spirals on it for the ten minutes it takes her to make it to her building, Jake already waiting for her outside.

He looks like he pulled an all-nighter, with dark rings under his eyes and rumpled clothes.

“Hey, I got that,” he says at once, taking her portfolio bag with her. His eyes widen when he puts it on his shoulder. “Jesus, Peyton, what do you have in there?”

“Two marker kits and one colored pencil kit. Sorry.”

She leads the way into her building, into her dorm, her heart beating uncomfortably fast in her chest. Emily has another class so she won’t be back for a while.

“Is everything okay?” Peyton asks, shutting the door behind him.

“Yeah, I, uh…” He rubs the back of his head as he struggles to find words. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out the same book she’s since buried under a pile of sweaters under her bed. “I read Lucas’ book. That’s what I’ve been doing the last couple of days.”

She blinks in surprise. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just wanted to…get through it in my own time.”

Peyton crosses her arms over her chest. “I get that. And?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, Peyton. I mean, I like Lucas. He’s a kind person, smart. His book is great, especially for a first. And it’s a testament to how much he loves you.”

Peyton swallows. “Loved me,” she corrects him quietly. “It’s different now.”

He winces. “How am I supposed to stand up to this?” Jake asks quietly, looking down at the book in his hands.

Peyton’s breath hitches in her throat. She wants to reassure him that this is the past, that she’s over it, but instead she thinks about her sketchpad. She turns around to find her messenger bag, pulling out her sketchpad with shaking hands before she slams it onto her bed, which makes a quiet thump. “You don’t,” she counters, her voice wavering. She swallows over the lump in her throat. “You don’t.”

Jake furrows his brow, looking between her and the papers. He puts the book down and picks up her project, flipping past the cover page, his eyes comically widen when he sees the first of the drawings – of him, of Jenny, her imaginings of what his clients look like.

“Peyton…” Jake starts, unable to find his voice again.

“I started doing this sometime during the holidays last year, when I was alone, and I had this image that I couldn’t get out of my head. Of you listening to your clients’ outrageous stories in their houses and…it started becoming this thing to ground me, to give myself a break from the assignments and everything stressful,” she explains, border on rambles, really. “Lucas may have written a book about me, but you inspire me,” she insists, hand to her chest, tears burning in her eyes. “You’ve been there at my lowest – you were always my friend first. You may have had to go, but when you’re here, you’re here. All of you.”

Jake takes a careful breath, his fingers gently rubbing between the pages. “’It’s always you in my big dreams,’” he intones kindly.

She smiles, recognizing the lyric, feeling it so sharply in her chest. “Yeah.”

“You know I love you, Peyton,” he says with a shrug. “Simple as that.”

Tears fall down her face, but she’s smiling. She wipes her face dry with a small laugh.

Her phone chimes, indicating that she has to leave to go to her next class. But she just walks up to Jake and puts her arms around his shoulders.

He presses his forehead against hers and smiles. Right where he’s supposed to be. “Baby, you’re going to miss your class.”

Peyton beams, takes a long, steady breath. “I know.”

Suffice to say, she does not make it to Context.

They both have to power through finals, but they manage. They celebrate by passing out in his bed, sleeping an uninterrupted eight hours before eagerly undressing each other, making up for lost time.

He’s holding her, already dozing off, but Peyton knows one of them is going to have to get up in order to get Jenny ready for preschool.

The summer will be a nice reprieve. Jake will just have his job and Peyton will be free. The fall will keep them busy again, and even though Jake was insisting on just getting his Associates Degree, she’s seen the brochures about bachelors and even masters in social work, so the grind will continue on.

And Peyton knows that jobs in her field will take her elsewhere – maybe New York, maybe in Canada, even. Who’s to say?

But, that’s a while from now, if she’s lucky. In the meantime, she’ll continue to follow her heart as she always has, and now?

She pokes Jake’s side. He grunts in response.

“I think this is a pancake morning,” Peyton says to him.

He grunts again. “I don’t have the energy.”

She turns in his arms so she’s facing him. “Please…” she asks before kissing the tip of his nose.

“Best I can do is stop at Baker’s Pride on the way to drop off Jenny,” he mumbles.

“Oh, that’s a good substitute. I want a jelly doughnut and a chocolate frosted,” she says.

He smiles, his hold on her tightening. “Good. Now, let’s just enjoy the few minutes before we absolutely have to get out of bed, yeah?”

She breathes with him, enjoying the silence until the next track starts.