Peyton Church is a city girl by anyone's standards. Born and raised in New York City, she grew up wanting for nothing. She attended the most prestigious preparatory schools, shopped on Fifth Avenue, dined with the rich and famous and was adored by...
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SOME HIGHER POWER must be smiling down on me. Not only did Natalie easily agree to let Addison come with me to New York, but my grandmother is also waiting at home when I got back from my shift at the diner on Thursday.
The older woman chuckles. "Alright, kopelià, you're going to pop my head right off if you squeeze me any tighter," she says, her thick accent comforting just as comforting as the arms she wraps around me as she pats my back.
I hold tight for a moment longer before I'm afraid she might have a point, and pull away. "Sorry, Yaya. I just, I really needed a hug."
"You know where I live, paidí," she tsks, "You are welcome anytime. Old ladies like myself enjoy the company."
"I do know that," I tell her with a smile, and follow her and Mom to the living room. We take a seat on the couch, my grandmother in a chair she'd bought especially for this house.
"I've just been out of it this past couple of days," I explain when Yaya prods me further. "A lot to think about."
"Ah, yes," she says, taking a sip of the herbal tea my mom had set on the table for her. "Your mother told me about your plans this weekend. Are you looking forward to going back to that big city of yours?"
With care, I fold my legs under me on the couch in a technique I perfected early in life thanks to my love of skirts. "I still love New York, Yaya," I tell her. At the small frown that wrinkles her mouth, I reassure her. "But a big part of my heart is here, too. This little town has grown on me."
At that, she smiles. "A little of that big part is surely the lovely young man you found yourself here. Is that Hunter of ours going with you?"
"He is, and so are a few more of my friends."
As it turns out, most of my friends, and Cameron, were able to get permission their parents to go to New York for the weekend. Sure, they'd need to have the flight details, and the contact information for wherever we would be staying, but that was easy enough.
The only one who couldn't get her parent's approval was Eliza. At lunch, she'd brushed it off by saying she had another family engagement her mom wouldn't let her out off, but I had my doubts. I could see the way her eyes flicked to her half-eaten fruit salad, the way they always do if she's lying. But I wasn't about to force her to come. Instead, I'd nodded and told her we'd send her pictures every so often so that she'd feel like she was right there with us.
I'd purchased our plane tickets after school while I was on break at the diner. The last minute meant we'll have to fly coach, but somehow I don't think my friends will mind. After all, it's not on their dime. It's on my wonderful cheating father's.
"What time is your flight?" Mom asks, looking up from the novel in her hands.
There weren't a whole lot of options, but I'd found one that meant we'd still be able to attend some of our classes before making the two hour drive to the airport in Fayetteville. "Three o'clock. We'll have to leave school at lunch, but nobody will be missing any tests or deadlines. And we'll bring our homework on the plane."
