The Beautiful Truth

// 29

Much like every other Thanksgiving day, Talyn came and camped out our house until it was time to eat.

"You know they'll put me to work if I stay over there," Talyn explained, leaning back on the barstool at our kitchen island while I pressed the pumpkin pie crust into the pan.

I rolled my eyes.

"Well, that, and I really like how it smells when you bake that," he admitted, flashing that Hollywood grin of his.

"And the truth comes out," my dad winked at us on his way to the refrigerator. "You kids goin' out to that party again tonight?"

I looked at Talyn—his face was just as surprised as mine.

My dad chuckled. "Oh please. You've both been going since you were fifteen. You think I didn't go out to Airport Road when I was young?"

I forced a laugh, and Talyn returned his bar stool to all four legs, reaching up to stretch and scratch his head awkwardly.

"I guess we're busted," Talyn shrugged, yawning.

I shrugged. "Well, now that you mention it, yeah—I guess we are. We ran into Mallory and Lindsey yesterday at Wal-Mart. It's still on."

Talyn laughed. "As if it'll ever stop. I fully expect to come back here when I'm fifty and hear about kids takin' their hovercrafts out there and stuff."

I laughed and shook my head. "Hovercrafts?''

"Are you sure you're gonna remember the way back to Pontiac at that age?" my dad asked, cracking open his soda. "I mean, you'll have taken some pretty nasty hits from those NFL linebackers by then."

Talyn grinned. "I doubt anyone could hit me hard enough to make me forget where I'm from."

My dad nodded in approval and headed back to the couch.

"Ah, so..." I began, raising my eyebrows with mild amusement. "Are you driving, or am I?"

Talyn gave me that smile he saves just for me. "I'll drive us. And pick up the goods."

"Sure," I agreed. Talyn had been buying [had been given] beer here since he became the starting quarterback of the Varsity team in high school.

A few hours later, Talyn, my dad and I walked into the Parrishes' house across the street—pumpkin pies in hand, to find, as always, an impressive spread of everything Thanksgiving should be. A few hours after that, I had fallen asleep on my couch after gorging myself. And, about two hours after that, I walked back across the street to see if Talyn was ready to head out.

I knocked on their front door and took a deep breath. Taryn answered with a smile. "You look very refreshed," she greeted me.

"Thanks, your feast knocked us all out," I explained.

She looked at me and shook her head as if she'd suddenly remembered something. "Wait, did you just knock?"

I looked over my shoulder, back at the door, then I laughed. "I guess I did. Wow, that's weird," I said, and wrinkled my nose.

"Ugh, I know!" she complained. "Eleven years we've known you—you haven't knocked for ten and a half."

I grinned. "Sorry, I guess it's the time away."

Taryn smiled softly, looking over my shoulder. "Well, you kids have fun. Be safe."

I turned to see my best friend walking down their hallway, pulling on his coat as he moved.

"I wondered who was knocking," he teased, shaking his head at me. "Come on, you set?"

I looked down at myself. "Yep."

"Kay, see ya, mom. I'll be back sooner or later," Talyn called back to his mom as he pulled the door together. "Lookin' good, Sawyer!" he added rather conspicuously as he sauntered to his truck.

I vaguely remembered that's how he'd greeted me when he'd come home from USC at the end of the summer right before I'd moved out to Berkeley. "Thanks," I replied happily.

"Although I'm not too sure about those boots," he said, climbing into the driver's seat.

I continued around to the passenger side, and climbed in next to him. "Say what you will, but in addition to being warm," I said, pulling both my feet up on the dash just because I knew he hated when I did that, "they've also got great traction, so I can climb into your stupid, oversized, redneck truck."

Talyn hooted and revved the truck's engine. "I'm just messin' with you, SF."

I ignored him and admired my nearly knee-high snow boots. It was incredibly cold tonight. There had better be a fire at this thing. "Can we go back to California yet? It's fucking cold."

Talyn laughed. "Now now, you know you can't get out of town without seeing all our high school friends—"

"Our?" I scoffed. "Oh jeez, you're more deluded than I thought. Those were all your friends, who only pretended to like me because I was also your friend."

Talyn rolled his eyes. "Then why are you coming?" he asked, suddenly serious.

I looked at him and pressed my lips together before answering. "Because I wanted to hang out with you."

He seemed lightened a little, after that, but knowing him as I did, I could tell there was something wrong—he was only moody when that was the case. I hated to see him unhappy in any way. I always had. I'd figure it out sooner or later, but I also knew him well enough to know I'd have to wait for him to bring it up. He hated to think he was burdening anyone, even me, his best friend, with his problems.

I sighed and bit my lower lip. This wasn't the way I wanted to start the night. I had really hoped to bask in the glow of his warmth while he reconnected with people neither of us had seen in months. Somehow, he didn't seem in the mood.

"I'm sorry, Sawyer. We can go home," he offered, looking across the seat at me when we stopped for a red light. "Do something...just us, if you want."

I smiled sadly at him. "No, it's OK," I assured him. "I know you want to go. I do too—gotta see if anybody's gotten fat or whatever."

Talyn grinned and took off again when the light turned green. "There's my Sawyer."

I jerked my chin up slightly, wondering if I should be offended that he recognized his Sawyer by her cynicism. He quickly pulled into the convenience store we'd been aiming for since leaving his house, and jumped out to get our provisions for the night.

I sighed again. I missed Barton. I tried not to feel so attached—I didn't like feeling that part of me was missing, but it was no use. He was two time zones away. I dreaded to think what those three and a half months would be like while he was on tour.

Quickly, though, Talyn was casually strolling out of Boone's and slinging a case of beer over the side of his truck bed. He climbed back in and noticed my forlorn expression.

"Hey!" he said, grabbing my leg just above my knee and shaking me slightly until I looked at him. "You OK, SF?"

I hadn't realized until he made me look at him, that my eyes were dangerously close to overflowing with tears.

"You miss him, don't you?" he looked at me, concerned, rather than teasing, like I would have expected.

I sighed, and willed the tears back into their ducts. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Talyn twisted off a sad looking smirk. "Well, if he's got any brains at all, I'm sure he misses you, too."