Work Text:
Do you always trust your first initial feeling?
Special knowledge holds truth, bears believing
I turned around and the water was closing all around
Like a glove, like the love that had finally, finally found me
And I knew in the crystalline knowledge of you
“I can feel your pain from over here.”
Peyton freezes, her heart skipping at the disembodied voice coming at her from the alley across from Karen’s Cafe. It’s raspy, the kind of voice you’d expect from someone who has smoked cigarettes for thirty years. She whips her head around to find an older woman sitting on a bench, her wild gray hair whipping in the wind. She’s wearing a long black dress with what looks like a dozen mismatched colored scarves around her neck. Her eyes are a mixture of warmth and chaos.
“Are you talking to me?” Peyton asks, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes, you. Jesus, you’ve got ghosts all around you, little girl.”
Peyton chokes on her spit, a panic induced laugh falling from her mouth. “I, uh-what?”
“Ghosts!” the woman says, her hands gesturing wildly in the air as if she’s showing Peyton something all around her. “Both literal and figuratively, I suspect…”
Peyton starts to turn away, but the woman quickly adds, “She wants you to know you look cool in her jacket.”
Peyton stops suddenly. Her breath catches. She looks down at her jacket. Ellie’s jacket. Nobody could know that.
“What did you just say?”
The woman smiles. “They both watch over you, you know. You don’t have to feel so alone all the time.”
Her mom. Ellie.
“Who are you?” she asks. “Seriously.”
The woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a deck of Tarot cards, holding them up to light. “Let me read your cards.”
Peyton hesitates. She doesn’t believe in this kind of thing. But something tells her to stay.
“Fine. But I don’t have any money.”
The woman smiles. “For you dear, it’s free.”
The woman shuffles methodically. Then she lays three down in a line.
“The Five of Cups” she says, turning the first one over. “Symbolizes loss and regret. You’re focusing too much on what’s gone instead of what’s right in front of you.”
“I lose everyone I love eventually…” Peyton murmurs.
“Not everyone” the woman says softly, flipping over the second card.
The Lovers.
Peyton laughs, rolling her eyes.
“This one,” the woman says, “it means you love her.”
“Love who?” Peyton scoffs, fighting the obvious answer.
“Don’t be coy. Your mom tells me you used to make snowforts. You’ve loved her since then, haven’t you?”
Peyton’s heart quickens. Brooke.
The woman turns over the last card. The Two of Cups.
“This one,” she says matter of factly, “it means she loves you back.”
“No,” Peyton whispers. “You don't know that. And anyway, I don’t even know who you’re talking about…”
“Of course you do,” the woman says, her eyes shifting towards the door of Karen’s Cafe. “You don’t have to be alone anymore."
Peyton looks up to see Brooke stepping outside the cafe, balancing two cups of coffee. Brooke spots her too.
“P. Sawyer!” she calls, crossing the street. “I don’t know why, but I just had this weird feeling I’d see you today. I even got you a coffee.” She laughs, looking down at her hands. “Guess I’m psychic huh? Why are you sitting in an alley by yourself?”
Peyton turns. “Oh, I was just talking to...” She turns toward the bench, but the woman is gone. She shakes her head, confused.
“You okay?” Brooke asks, frowning. “You look a little pale.” Brooke sits beside her and grabs onto her hand, sending a spark through Peyton. Not the kind of figurative spark you read about in story books. An actual spark.
She thinks she’s officially gone insane until she sees Brooke flinch. She looks down at their joined hands in disbelief.
“Wait,” Brooke says “Did you feel that?”
Peyton holds her breath. She could lie. She could run. But instead she says “Did you feel that?”
Brooke’s eyes soften, shimmering. “’Yeah. I’ve, uh, been feeling it for a while now. You never seemed to notice before…”
Peyton looks up and their eyes meet. Peyton searches Brooke’s face for hesitation before leaning in, gently brushing Brooke’s lips with her own. Brooke sighs softly and places her hand on the side of Peyton’s face, moving a loose curl back behind her ear.
When they finally pull part, Brooke laughs. “Wow. I’ve been waiting for that.”
“She was right…” Peyton says under her breath.
“Who?” Brooke asks, confused.
“Just a friend..." Peyton responds.
_________
The next morning, Peyton wakes tangled in Brooke’s arms. The warm October light illuminates her bedroom, and as it does, Brooke stirs.
“Happy Halloween, P. Sawyer…” Brooke sighs. “You want some coffee? You tired me out last night with all that kissing…” she teases.
Peyton giggles and requests coffee with loads of sugar.
After Brooke walks away, something catches Peyton’s eye. A flash of something underneath Brooke’s pillow. She reaches over and pulls it free.
The Two of Cups. She loves you back.
Peyton whispers her gratitude. To the witchy woman. To her moms. To the universe. For her Brooke.
