Page 88 of It's a Date (Again)

“You should. If he’s not willing to be patient and understanding of your situation, he’s clearly not the one for you. You deserve better than that, Peyton.”

“Oh, stop. Tyler has every right to be upset. His feelings are just as involved as mine are. And I should have been spending my time getting to know each of them rather than focusing on deep dives from you and Maya.” My eyes narrow, and I don’t even mean for them to.

“Sorry you wasted your time on me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” My face softens. “It’s just been a lot, and I’m trying to figure it out without hurting anyone or getting hurt myself.”

“This is exactly why you should have never done this whole dating-again thing in the first place. Rather than focusing on you, you’re worried about their feelings. I told you it would be too much, especially given your injury.”

“You can’t protect me from everything, Robbie.”

“I’m not trying to. I just think if any of these guys truly cared about you, they wouldn’t be pushing you to make a decision.”

I knew that’s exactly what he would say. He thinks he knows what’s best for me. But this isn’t all about me. There are other people and their feelings involved.

“I just need you all to give me space to figure it out.”

“I’m only trying to help you, Peyton. You don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to dating, and I don’t want you to end up in another relationship with some jerk.”

“I think you’re the last person that should be giving any advice on relationships, Robbie,” I scoff.

He cocks his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve never been close to telling anyone you loved them. You break up with girls over stupid reasons like what shows they like or what they eat. So, of course for you, any reason is a good reason to break up with someone. You’ve never loved anyone, so you can’t possibly know what you’re talking about.” I stomp into the living room.

Maybe I’m being unfair to Robbie, but how dare he bring up my dating history when his isn’t any better. I can’t process all my emotions right now, and he’s not making it any easier on me. I feel like I’m being pulled in too many directions and everyone wants something different.

His footsteps follow behind.

“And what would you know about love, Peyton? You don’t even know who you love.”

I turn to face him. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know who I love, but I know I do. I can feel it in my skin, in my fingers, in my heart. And I know it’s worth fighting for. It’s worth the mess and the confusion and the frustration. It’s worth being sick over. Hell, I got hit by a car for it, and I’m not just going to throw it away because you think I should.” By the time I’m done speaking, I’m standing only six inches away from Robbie, glaring up at him.

He stares blankly.

“What, Robbie? What is it?”

“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. That’s it.”

“I think what you want is for me to be miserable just like you, Robbie.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth, but I’m frozen. They hang in the air for a moment too long, and it now it feels like it’s too late to pull them back. You can’t just unsay something.

His jaw clenches like he’s chewing on the things he wants to say out loud. His Adam’s apple rocks up and down, and his eyes become glassy.

“Well, I hope you find out who you love then.” Robbie steps back. “Because I wouldn’t want you to end up like me.”

I want to apologize and tell him I didn’t mean it. I’m just confused, and I’m taking it all out on him because I know he’ll take it. It’s not fairto Robbie at all, but I don’t know how to go back, and I don’t know how to explain how I’m feeling. The words get stuck in my throat. I’m frustrated with him for being so wishy-washy on this whole dating thing. One day he’s against it, the next he’s for it. He likes Tyler and then he doesn’t like him. It’s all so complicated, and I don’t know how to uncomplicate it.

Robbie grabs his belongings without saying another word. The stairs creak as he descends them, and the front door opens and closes. I let out a heavy sigh. I’m the one who accepted Robbie’s help. I agreed to the new pact. I asked for his opinions. I wanted him to be protective of me. So, it’s not all on him. It’s on me too.

CHAPTER17

I haven’t seen Robbie in two days. He hasn’t texted or called. I sent him a message saying I was sorry. The three little dots popped up over and over like he was typing, but nothing ever came through. I’ve been staying at Debbie’s the last two nights. I would have just stayed home alone because I don’t think I need anyone watching me. But maybe I do because I keep screwing everything up. Robbie told Debbie he was going to be busy with work for a while, so someone else needed to take nights. I went along with his lie and didn’t tell Maya or Debbie about our fight. Debbie knows something’s up. She’s got a sixth sense for that, but she doesn’t pry.

Tyler hasn’t texted me either. I think he and I might be done. The only guy I have left in my life is Nash. I haven’t told him that, but maybe I will right now. Nash smiles over his shoulder at me as I take a seat at a table in a small Italian restaurant. It’s cute and cozy. They hand-make pasta in the front window, and it’s counter service only. The floor is covered in alternating black and white tiles, almost like an illusion, one you could get lost in.

Nash orders at the register. He’s dressed in a white button-down, a navy-blue suit jacket, and a pair of khakis. I haven’t seen him dressed so nice before. I stare at the back of his head. A colorful tattoo peeks out from behind his collar. Was he the one I was running to? I try to picture it. Me running as fast as I can toward him. His bright hazel eyes.Tattoo-covered arms. Sharp jawline. I can picture it, but I don’t know if it’s a memory or just something I’m imagining right now.

When he’s finished ordering, he carries a tented sign with an order number back to our table. He smiles at me again. It’s a small one. I force a smile back. I am happy he’s here with me, but I’m unhappy about everything else. Most of all Robbie. How did I lose a friend in all this? My phone sits face up on the table. I glance at it, hoping a message will appear. But it doesn’t.

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