It Doesn't Do Well to Dream

Chapter 27

She did it.

After a day and a half of deliberation, she sent another email to Dr. Henson.

It was a polite inquiry for now. Peyton wanted to see how he would react to getting an email from her, not Lex. And, if he still had the files on their sessions to give her, that couldn't hurt. But for some reason it still felt like she was waiting to hear back about a job opportunity. A certain anxiety simmered low in her gut and she purposefully closed her internet browser to stop herself from constantly refreshing her email.

The last thing she needed to do was sit around in anticipation, so she left her office and headed to the kitchen for lunch. She made sure to pass Lex's office before heading that direction and gave him a wave to let him know things were still fine.

Luckily, there hadn't yet been any more vases or billiard balls, but they still hadn't caught anyone either.

There were a couple people in the kitchen when she walked in. Peyton waved politely to Mrs. Palmer then her daughter, Amy. Amy pressed her lips together and refused to acknowledge her; Peyton felt the cold shoulder from across the room.

Maybe something had happened when Peyton wasn't herself. It wasn't too outrageous to think Amy could have taken Peyton's 'forgetfulness' as an insult during some interaction back in Metropolis.

"I'm just getting a bite to eat," Peyton explained.

Mrs. Palmer nodded.

"Of course, Mrs. Luthor. We're finishing up the linens."

As if to prove her point, Mrs. Palmer folded a hand towel then murmured to Amy that she was going to get the last basket of clean laundry and left the room. Peyton used digging through the fridge as an excuse not to have to feign friendliness with Amy. She could feel the heat of the girl's glare on her back even as she tried to ignore her.

There were leftovers, so Peyton dished some on a plate and slid it in the microwave. From the corner of her eye she could see Amy clenching a hand towel in her fist and gritting her teeth, and Peyton decided it was best to try and clear the air instead of living in perpetual awkwardness. As her plate slowly spun in a circle, she turned and directly faced Amy.

"Are you okay, Amy?"

Amy scowled and her lips pressed more firmly together.

"Am I okay," she repeated in disdain. For a moment it looked like she was going to burst and hurl whatever grievances she had at Peyton. But instead her eyes turned red and she curled into herself as tears started to fall.

"He doesn't really love you," she said in nearly a whisper. "How could he?"

Peyton gaped.

"Excuse me?"

Amy dropped the towel and turned away with a stifled cry. Peyton reached toward her,

but Amy rushed from the kitchen before Peyton could figure out what was going on.

"You don't even share a room."

The statement froze Peyton in place as she watched the girl go. It was all about Lex? Amy couldn't stand her because she was married to Lex? The girl couldn't be older than fifteen.

But, to be fair, that probably didn't matter to a hormonal, love-struck teenager. The microwave dinged and Peyton let it sit a moment as she pressed against her sinuses and absorbed the interaction. It didn't seem like she had a chance of winning Amy over if she was purely jealous. Jealous in the ridiculous way only a teenager could be.

Peyton grabbed her plate and a fork and deftly left the kitchen before Mrs. Palmer returned with the towels. She would admit it was a bit cowardly, but she didn't want to have to explain what happened to Amy's mother.