Opposite Force

Chapter Seventeen

Mikaela Martin | Present

I feel like a five-year-old. "My mom said no," I sigh.

Peyton frowns. "No worries. Did she say why?"

I sigh again, staring at the track we're circling during gym class. "Yeah, she wants me home this week because I've been stressed out. I was trying to tell her that hanging out with you would make me less stressed, but she wouldn't listen."

By now, I'm pretty sure Peyton has figured out that my mom never listens. Ever. Not to me, at least. She listens to her clients' complaints about their jobs and stupid family drama, but she totally disregards every last thing that comes out of her daughter's mouth.

"Even this weekend?" he asks, disappointed.

This situation is so ridiculous I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I'm literally grounded for having anxiety, which is biological, so it's technically my parents' fault, not that Mom cares. Now, my boyfriend is upset that I can only see him at school. It's only a matter of time before he finds someone who can hang out whenever they want.

"Yeah. I'm sorry," I mumble, studying my two-year-old sneakers that still look brand-new. I don't want to see Peyton's expression.

Apparently, he wants me to. He places his finger beneath my chin and lifts so I have no choice but to look at him. "Hey, it's not a big deal. We'll still see each other every day except the weekend, but that's only two days. Did your mom say you can hang out next week?"

"She said we'll talk about it then," I grumble.

"We've got all week to plan out how to convince her!" he says happily.

Tingles flood my body, and I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. I meant what I said yesterday. Peyton Warner really is the best boyfriend in the universe. "I believe in us," I giggle.

"Hmm, maybe I'll go to the woods Friday," Peyton says, deep in thought. "The guys have been bugging me to go. Would that bother you?"

"No! No, not at all," I lie. "Of course. Yeah, you should definitely go."

Peyton tilts his head, clearing thinking that I doth protest too much. So, what do I do in my panic? I protest some more. "Really, Peyton. You should. I'm, uh, sorry I've been keeping you from going."

For once, I'm grateful to have a lump in my throat because it prevents me from continuing to ramble.

"No, you weren't keeping me from going. I was honestly sick of it. I'd rather hang out with you than drink and get bitten by mosquitos, you know?"

Still, if it weren't for me, Peyton's friends wouldn't need to harass him into doing something fun. Being with me has already caused Peyton to change. His friends can't like that. How long will it be before Peyton doesn't like it either?

"Oh. Um, yeah. I hate mosquitos," I mumble.

"They're the worst," Peyton agrees. "I'm still thinking about going. I don't know. I haven't decided." He shrugs. "You really don't care?"

"No, you should go. Your friends will... Yeah, you should. I mean it. I can't do anything fun Friday, so one of us might as well." I pause, realizing that I sound like a crazy girlfriend. "Not that we have to be doing the same thing. Um—"

"Mikaela."

"Sorry. I'm rambling," I mumble. "I'm, uh, tired. Really tired."

"No, I mean, Mikaela, you can tell me if you're not okay with me going without you. I don't know. I might feel weird if you went out drinking without me. Like, left out or something."