Kickstart My Heart

6

It was Halloween and a full moon hung in the night sky. Sam's hands were clammy from sweat but he couldn't really wipe them off because he was wearing gloves and had neon-yellow plastic pants on. He was sitting in his silver 2017 Honda Fit debating a last minute wardrobe change because he only now realized Peyton never specifically said that it was a costume party. He tried to text and call her but she wasn't responding and now he was 30 minutes late and had to make a split decision. He was dressed as Heisenberg; Walter White's alter-ego from "Breaking Bad", but not the simple hat and glasses option, no. He wore fake old-man reading glasses and plain white sneakers, which were fine, but beyond that he worried that he might've gone overboard. He had on a neon-yellow hazmat suit, blue dishwashing gloves, a black and red hazmat mask on his head, and to top it all, a fake goatee. Sam worried he would be unrecognizable. He felt ridiculous and wondered what he had been thinking when he picked this out. He thought it would be funny. It was only $29 on Amazon, and he also didn't want to show up without putting effort into his costume because he knew Peyton loved Halloween. He shook his head. Own it, he told himself.

***

He parked a short distance away from her apartment because the parking lot was full. He dreaded the walk up but figured once he made it inside it wouldn't be so bad with everyone else dressed up. He got out of his car and once he made it halfway he debated turning around but he persevered. He could hear "Season of the Witch" by Donovan playing down the hallway as he walked up to apartment 112. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door hard so he might be heard over the music, but he thought that was improbable. He waited a few beats and lifted his fist to knock again just as the door swung open. Peyton was wearing an off-the-shoulder, black, flowy dress that ended mid-thigh with a maroon and gold corset overtop her upper stomach and chest, black fishnet tights, and black Dr. Martens. What Sam noticed most of all was that her makeup was done so that it was noticeable, because her freckles were blurred, but still natural, and her pumpkin pie hair was tame for once and fell down her back in neat waves and stray braids throughout. He was too consumed in taking her all in to feel stupid and out of place.

"Sam! Your costume is killer!" She stepped outside with him and gently closed the door behind her. "Hey, uh, my bad, I totally should've told you that it's not a costume party-"

"Oh, I tried to call you about that but it's okay-"

"I'm so sorry, my phone died!" she said. "But here's what we're going to do: we'll go inside and play it off like you just came from a costume party. How's that?"

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. "You look great!" Her hair swished past him as she moved next to him to close the door behind him and he could smell her coconut shampoo.

"Thanks." Sam smiled back at her.

"Hey everybody!" Peyton started to make an announcement and Sam regressed into his hazmat suit. "Sam just came from a costume party so make him feel comfortable please! Thank you!"

"Is there alcohol at this party?"

"You're gonna be okay," Peyton said, punching him on the shoulder. "And yeah, of course there's alcohol. Let me show you around."

Peyton pointed out the bathroom, the balcony, the food and drinks on the kitchen counter, and then introduced him to her quite large group of friends that filled almost every inch of space in her small apartment. Sam wanted to talk to Peyton more but she was playing hostess to the rest of her friends. Instead, he found himself sitting on her stiff gray couch half-listening to a flirty argument between some Frat-looking guy and a tall blonde girl about who would win at beer pong. A guy plunged into the couch next to him, barely shaking the stiff couch but still managed to bounce Sam an inch or two.

"Hey Sam, I'm Justin. You look like you need a drink," he said.

"Normally, I'm not a big drinker but I think this occasion calls for it. You down for beer pong?"

"Well, they say, 'Liquor before beer, you're in the clear. Beer before liquor, you've never been sicker. So, if you want, we could take some Jello-shots first and then get into pong?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Sam.

"How do you know Peyton?" Justin asked, standing up.

"We have Cinema class together, how about you?"

"She's a friend of my girlfriend's. She's the one on the balcony with Peyton, her name is Gail. They're childhood best friends."

"Oh cool. Well, how'd you and Gail meet?"

"We both work at Norman Brothers' Produce. She actually blew a milkshake up in my face her first day." Sam chuckled, imagining the scene unfold.

"Yoooo Justin Caseeeee!" Some totally plastered guy took long strides towards them, blocking their path to the kitchen.

"Did he just call you 'just in case'?" Sam asked Justin.

"Yeahhh my parents had a sick sense of humor and my last name is actually Case," Justin explained. "Hey man, what's good?" Justin asked the drunk dude stumbling over to hug him.

"I don't know man I might throw up, now that you mention it," the nameless guy answered. Sam noticed how Justin immediately jumped into caretaker-mode like this was a normal routine. Sam helped Justin take the guy to the bathroom and supply him with water. After the dude was asleep on the couch, Justin and Sam headed to the kitchen. They took a couple Jello shots, four each to be exact.

"So, let me guess...you didn't actually come from a costume party, did you?" Justin asked.

"No, I certainly did not," Sam said, trying to sound sober but feeling the alcohol relaxing his nerves. Justin chuckled and then talked Sam into two back-to-back beer-bong-chugging races. Two rounds of beer pong later and Sam was drunk.

An hour had passed and Peyton just now popped back up in Sam's line of vision. She met his gaze and started to walk over. Sam would've normally considered the smell of his breath but he didn't have a care in the world at that moment. He couldn't look away from her. Sam remembered when she looked like anybody else, maybe even standard in a way that stood out. He couldn't remember when that changed, when he started to see something more to her. But here she was standing in front of him now and he wished he didn't have to blink.

"Sam!" Peyton always addressed him that way. It was simple but it was upbeat like her mood was lifted whenever he was there.

"Peyton!" Sam mimicked with a goofy, lopsided smile.

"Hey, sorry I disappeared for a while but I'm back now. I missed you," Peyton said and Sam stopped breathing for a second. Did she just say she missed me?

"I missed you too," Sam said.

"Sam, are you drunk?" Peyton laughed softly, shaking her head. Her eyes scrunched up from her cheeks rising up when she laughed. She leaned into him and looked back up at him. Sam noticed that Peyton had coffee eyes.

"You have espresso eyes; a bitter-gone-soft kind of brown," Sam said. Peyton tilted her head slightly at him like dogs do when they're confused but she was smiling the biggest smile he ever saw on her, and it was for him. "They look soft and adorable, like puppy-brown-eyes."