44 - Peyton
PEYTON
“The ice cream man.”
Theo stretched his arms overhead, extending his body the full length of the couch. His head was in my lap. I was still playing with his hair.
“That’s a good one,” I admitted. “What do you miss most about it?”
He sighed reflectively and shrugged. “The way my brothers and I felt, every time we heard the music. How excited we were, seeing the truck pull onto our block.”
Theo’s expression was placid, calm, sated. “And then running to mom, begging her for money.” His smile went wide at the recollection. “The three of us jumping up and down, desperately, as she fumbled with her wallet.”
“Yeah,” Colson agreed, sitting across from us. After what I’d just done to him, he was still melted into the big leather chair. “Nothing tastes as good as ice cream from the ice cream man.”
We were half-clothed, and poorly hydrated. Fully spent, from a straight hour of two-on-one lovemaking, right here on the soft leather couches. After Theo’s comment, I wanted to get up and check the freezer for ice cream. But I was just too relaxed.
“What about water, right from the hose?” challenged Theo. “That’s summer man. Straight up summer.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, my face plastered with a silly smile. Reminiscing was fun, and something we did often together. The topic this time, brought up by Colson, no less, was what we missed most about our childhood.
“Summer used to have a smell to it,” I sighed. “It was distinct. Unique.”
“Fresh cut grass?” Theo offered.
“Yeah, sure,” I allowed, curling his hair with a lazy finger. “But there was more to it than that. I remember honeysuckle. The smell of earth. Charcoal.”
“Heat rising off the asphalt,” added Colson. “On a really hot day.”
“The pungentness of chlorine, at the town pool,” I went on, still smiling. “Sunscreen. Fresh towels pressed against your face.”
We lounged through a long stretch of silence, each of us lost in our own personal thoughts. Midnight in the glass house was my favorite time of day. It felt like pressing the pause button on life, while the world kept spinning around you.
“Things sure were different, back when I was a kid,” Theo sighed wistfully. “Every summer used to feel like it lasted forever. But now?”
“Everything’s over in the blink of an eye.”
He swiveled his head to face Colson and pointed at him. “Exactly!”
The two of them continued nostalgia-bombing each other, as I took a contented look around.
There were so many things to notice about this place at night, that you never really saw during the day.
The purity of the silence, broken only by an occasional howl of wind.
The dim glow of the lights, from the cutting electronics and appliances that surrounded us.
Or even Ripley, standing shirtless in the doorway.
One hand gripping a giant chef’s knife.
“Ripley?!”
He looked downright terrifying, like something straight out of a horror movie. But only until he brought a finger to his lips in a shushing motion.
“There’s someone in the house with us.”
The three of us bolted upright instantly. My eyes followed Theo’s, to the front door LED’s that should be red, not green, indicating the door was still locked.
Instead, there were no lights at all.
“Fuck,” swore Theo.
Colson was on his feet in an instant, and a weapon was somehow already in his hand. I had no idea where the fireplace poker came from, honestly. It was like it just materialized in his palm, the second he needed it.
“Back. Now.”
He shoved me behind him with one arm, and gestured to Ripley with the other. The two of them exchanged hand signals, deepening the silence. I had no idea what was going on.
That way, Theo mouthed, pointing with a finger.
I had no idea how he heard it before I did; the low rumble of footsteps, padding through the front hallway.
I felt suddenly helpless, and uncomfortably naked.
Maybe because I pretty much was naked, except for my G-string and the long T-shirt I’d borrowed from Colson, that now dangled somewhere just above my knees.
I had a sudden epiphany, and slipped into the back room. When I returned, I was holding the long-handled axe the boys had used all week, to chop firewood.
Colson saw me crouched beside him, holding it up like a psycho. His eyes went wide.
“Seriously?” he hissed.
“Oh yeah,” I whispered back. “I’m prepared to trauma-bond us all, tonight.”
Ripley chuckled as he shot me an approving glance.
I smiled, winked back, and blew him a kiss.
The absurdity of our interaction hit me like a brick; we were on the verge of discovery, or capture, or maybe even death.
Why in the hell was I smiling? Should we really be flirting right now?
And more important than any of that, could I really bury this razor-sharp axe into a stranger’s neck, if it came down to it?
Shit yeah, I could.
I gripped the axe handle tighter, my smile becoming somehow more maniacal. I didn’t know much, but I knew that whoever came down that hallway in the next minute was about to get seriously and irrevocably fucked up.
And then there it was; a lone figure, standing in the shadows. The figure stepped forward, revealing a man in a dark trench coat. He stood calmly, holding his hands clasped in front of him.
“Unfuckingreal,” Ripley murmured.
Colson however, hadn’t said a single word. He approached slowly and without fear, until he stood between us and the intruder.
“You found us,” Colson muttered.