The smile I wear is forced. There isn’t a single thing I’m happy about right now. Be it, my best friend lies motionless in her bed or the fact my father heard me admit to something only Peyton and I are aware of. I’m assuming she hasn’t told her sister although I've often wondered whether Peyton told Elle about prom night or if Elle asked where we ran off to.

“I can’t believe you came home to take her to prom,” Mom says as she straightens my bow tie. When I called to tell her, she thought I was joking, but quickly realized I was serious. Thing is, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Peyton. I likely would’ve done the same for Elle, but she’s never had a problem getting a date. My friendship with Peyton has always put a damper on her dating life, not that I’m complaining.

“She’s a senior and needs to experience everything.” If I were living back in Beaumont, this wouldn’t even be an issue, but I’ve made Portland my home. It’s easier to stay there, especially with my off-season regimen. After my first year in the league, I felt that I was lacking the right speed and strength to compete at the highest level. My coach was thrilled I recognized I needed improvement and set me up with one of the best trainers in the business. The constant work makes it nearly impossible to visit my parents.

My manager wasn’t very happy when I called and told him that I was traveling home, mainly for the fact that I wouldn’t be readily available for a benefit dinner this weekend. Even with most of the team living in town, many vacationed or went back to their hometowns. Plus, the bigger draw for attendance is always the quarterback. I didn’t even tell him what I was doing while at home, just I wouldn’t be around this weekend.

“Well, Peyton will have the best looking date there.” My mom is biased. But what parent isn’t? For me, escorting Peyton to prom is something I wanted to do five years ago, but with her being thirteen at the time, it wouldn’t have gone over well at all. I hate our age difference. I don’t see her as being five years younger, but everyone else does and they’re none too shy about reminding me of it. And if it’s not her age, they’re commenting about how she’s my sister. I have never looked at her like a sister. Elle, yes, but never Peyton.

When we were younger, we were always together. But it wasn’t until her father died, did I realize that her pain was my pain. She was losing her dad, while I was gaining mine. What should’ve been a happy time for me was confusing. At first, I was jealous that she attached herself to my dad, but I had done the same thing. While I had Nick, Mason and I were very close, and when he died, Peyton had no one and I knew she needed someone.

I became that someone. I became her protector. Her confidant. She became my best friend. She was, and still is, the one person I will drop everything for, without question, with the exception of Betty Paige. Not even my parents get that sort of attention from me.

And I developed feelings for her, feelings that I’ve had to hide and will continue to hide out of respect for our families, and for Peyton. She has a bright future waiting for her. The last thing she needs is my muddled thoughts deterring her path.

“You look handsome, Noah.” The sound of my little sister’s voice rings out from behind me.

“Yes he does,” my mom says as she stands behind me and straightens my tuxedo jacket, brushing her hands along my shoulders. She’s trying to stay out of the mirror, knowing her reflection will show she’s tearing up. She was a mess when I went to prom back in high school, and deep down I want to believe she understands why taking Peyton is so important to me.

“Come here, Little B.” She does as I ask, making sure to jump when she gets to the bottom step. My mother rolls her eyes and mutters something about breaking a leg before leaving us alone in the foyer. From the day my father bought this house, I’ve always jumped off the last few steps and so far I haven’t broken anything. Well, except for the vase that my grandma Bianca had set down. I may have kicked that, but still to this day I plead the fifth.

With my phone in my hand, I crouch down next to my sister and wrap my arm around her waist. She nestles into my side and all but hides her face in the crook of my neck. Paige is a bit camera shy, not that I blame her, but I want to capture this moment. “Smile, Little B.” She does, but most of her face is hidden. Honestly, I don’t mind. Fear of the paparazzi has been ingrained into her mind, and rarely has anyone ever truly photographed her. For the longest time, my dad would make her wear a hood whenever she was out and about. He wanted her to have as much anonymity as she could.

“Are you putting that on Instagram?”

“I am.” Paige leans closer and watches me upload the photo and add the caption, “My perfect girl.” I add various hashtags and wait a few seconds for the comments and likes to start. Most often, everything is positive. But occasionally, someone will post something that I have to delete. Thing is, I know what my mom, Aunt Katelyn and Aunt Jenna go through when it comes to the band. The last thing they need is to see sexual comments about me as well. And as far as Paige is concerned, I don’t want her seeing the nastiness of social media.

“Look, everyone says I’m cute.”

“That’s because you are.” She wraps her arms around me, giving me the strongest hug she can.

“Tell me all about the dance and what Peyton is wearing when you get home, okay?”

“You bet.” I stand and shake out my pant legs. Taking one last look in the mirror, I head for the door where my mom meets me with Peyton’s corsage in hand. The three champagne colored roses are nestled in baby’s breath and tied together with a pink ribbon. The fact that I know anything about flowers has really upped my dating game. Chicks dig random knowledge.

As if on cue, the limousine I rented for the night is idling in the driveway. Technically, it’s easier for me to pick Peyton up, but I want her to have the full experience. Also, Elle and her date will join us for the ride over. That is one thing I’ve learned about living in a massive city like Portland – the teens really go out of their way to make prom something spectacular. In little ole Beaumont, it’s held at the school gym with paper streamers and balloon arches. That’s how it was when my parents went, and it was the same way when I went. I can’t imagine much has changed.

The black limo stops in front of the Powell-James home, and I’m out of the car with Peyton’s corsage in my hand before the driver can do his job by opening my door. I’ll let him focus on the girls and let them feel like a million dollars. One would think considering how famous their dad is, boys would flock to them, but they don’t. When Quinn and I were in high school, it was the other way around, and we learned early on our popularity had a lot to do with our fathers. Believe me, Quinn and I don’t mind if the girls are left alone.

Harrison opens the front door before I reach the final step. Even though I’ve known him for half my life, I extend my right hand to shake his. “Good evening, Mr. Powell-James.” Harrison tries to hide his smile but accepts my hand firmly.

“Evening, Noah. Peyton is almost ready.”

I follow him into the house and am immediately introduced to a tall lanky kid in a tuxedo. “Noah, this is Ben. He’s Elle’s best guy friend.”

We shake hands, but it’s awkward. “You’re Noah Westbury.”

No shit.

“Man, this is surreal. I mean, Peyton said you were taking her, but most of us thought she was bullshitting us.”

I shake my head slightly. “Nope, no bullshitting here. I’m happy to take her to prom.”

“Man, the guys at school are going to flip,” Ben says. He turns his back toward me and from what I can gather is pulling out this phone. There isn’t a doubt in my mind he’s informing everyone of my presence. Unfortunately for him and his “guys” I won’t sign autographs or pose for pictures tonight unless Peyton instructs me to. This is her night.

The sound of heels coming down the hardwood steps grabs my attention. I step out into the entryway in time to see Katelyn leading her twin daughters down the stairs.

“Thank you,” she whispers into my ear before giving me a kiss on my cheek. I don’t tell her that it’s my pleasure, but I should.

When Peyton comes into view, all wind is knocked out of my proverbial sail. She’s gorgeous with her long tresses curled and pinned to the top of her head, and her dress… I swallow hard and chance a look at Harrison. His eyes are hard and there’s a noticeable tick in his jaw.

“The night of your prom, you wore that pink dress. Do you remember it, Peyton? When you were coming down the stairs I thought Harrison was going to make you go change. I can’t even tell you what Elle was wearing because I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Everything changed for us that night. I thought things were going to turn out differently, but I was wrong.”

I stand up and stretch. A quick glance out her window shows my father and Harrison talking. I’d like to think my father won’t sell me out, but who knows at this point. The fact that Peyton and I have been intimate shouldn’t matter, and won’t if she doesn’t make it. It was her choice, and I was too enamored with her to tell her no. I thought we’d be together afterward, but I was mistaken.

My dad glances toward me or at least at the room. I’m not ready to leave Peyton. It’s selfish of me, I know. There are others out there that want their time with her, but I can’t bring myself to walk out the door or even invite them back in.

The hard plastic chair is as inviting as being sacked in an outdoor stadium. Both suck beyond words. Yet, I find myself sitting down and picking her hand back up. Her body temperature is questionable, and probably a bit on the cold side. I refuse to believe she’s dying. Peyton wouldn’t do that to me.

“Okay, you’re going to let up on the break, but do so gently.”

It’s midnight and Peyton’s birthday. Legally, I’m not allowed to teach her to drive, but she asked me to. She’s nervous about her permit test in the morning and thinks that a crash course behind the wheel of my Wrangler is the way to pass. She’s not fooling me though. I know she’s been waiting for this day since I got my Jeep for my eighteenth birthday. Peyton is often hanging out in my dad’s garage, taking pictures of herself in it, so who am I to deny her this late night or early morning ride.

For good measure, I grab hold of the ‘oh shit’ handle and hold my breath. Peyton eases my prized possession out of my parents’ driveway and onto the darkened street.

“Which way do I go?”

“Where do you want to go?” I ask, sitting up straighter so I can be more attentive to her. “If you turn left, we can drive toward the school. Right and we go by your house.”

Peyton looks in both directions, and honestly, neither seems appealing. For the longest time, the twins refused to drive on the road in front of the school where their father died. Over the years it’s gotten easier, but most of us detour when they’re in the car to prevent any uneasiness for them. However, going by her house probably isn’t the best option either.

“Want me to drive us out of town?”

She nods and puts the car in park. We quickly switch seats and within seconds I have us speeding out of town. I drive us to Greenfield High, one of Beaumont’s rivals and strongest nearby competition.

“This is where you’re going to teach me to drive?” she asks, as we meet in front of my Jeep. The headlights give off a strong enough glow that I can see her face clearly. Her lips are pursed and kissable. There have been many nights, alone in my dorm room, where I have dreamed of kissing her. No one, not even Quinn, knows about my fantasies. No one ever will.

I never cared when she followed me around with her football or wanted to scrimmage with the rest of the guys. I always knew she was in the stands, watching and cheering me on, ready to tell me about my game. If she were like a sister, I would’ve been annoyed. I would’ve pushed her away, but I didn’t. I found excuses to keep her close.

“Sure, why not?” I look around the deserted parking lot, which are the best places to learn the basics. “You’ll be fine, Peyton. I promise.”

“Remember when you took your permit test? You aced it while Elle missed four. That was the last time I was home for your birthday because I was drafted a year later. Sure, we celebrated when we’d see each other, but it’s not the same. Don’t forget we have big plans for your twenty-first. You remember the plan right? We’re going to live the high life and use our names to get us everything we want. You just have to wake up, Peyton, or we can’t celebrate.”

“Noah?”

Elle’s voice is soft as she calls my name. I turn in the chair to find her resting against the doorjamb. She comes to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and cries softly into my shoulder. I hold her and find myself quickly following suit. My tears are hot and streaming fast down my cheeks.

“You have to tell her,” Elle mumbles, but I’m shaking my head.

“No. I can’t. I won’t.”