Hey, Darling.

Garrett was pissed.

“He fucking did what!?” He screamed. He hadn’t even moved the car yet. We were idling a block away from Kennedy’s house, and I was shaking because I was crying so bad. It was hard to get air into my lungs.

I just shook my head, holding in the sobs that I knew were going to come. I was not a pretty crier. I think in ninth grade a boy even told me that once, after he told me that he could never like me. I get snot everywhere and my eyes get red and my entire face blows up like a hot air balloon.

Garrett looked like he was going to commit homicide. Or possibly pay someone else to commit homicide. I didn’t say anything.

I wasn’t paying attention, so I didn’t really notice when he backed his car into reverse and started going fifty miles an hour. He was in front of Kennedy’s house in about thirty-two seconds. I counted.

Garrett hadn’t even shut of the car as his door flew open. He clutched his keys in hand as he made his way up the walkway.

Oh, shit. Shitfuckdamnmotherfuckingshit. My life could not get any fucking better, could it?

“Garrett!” I croaked out, flinging the door open and trailing behind him. “Garrett, stop before you do something stupid!”

“Me?” He exclaimed. “Do something stupid? I think Kennedy’s been stupid enough for the entire fucking town!”

I stumbled up the stairs after him as he flung the Brock household’s front door open. I heard Kennedy’s mom gasp, but I don’t think she tried to stop him.

Garrett thundered up the stairs and I followed, still croaking his name as I desperately tried to wipe the tears from my eyes.

“You fucking prick!” Garrett yelled as he stood in Kennedy’s doorway, his face red as he clenched his fist.

I stood a foot behind him, pleading with him to stop. “Garrett, just take me home,” I was saying. “Garrett, please don’t do this; you’ll only make it worse.”

He wasn’t listening.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He bellowed. “You can’t just do that to chicks, you douche bag!”

Kennedy looked bewildered as he looked from Garrett to me. Garrett. Me. Garrett. Me.

“Molly,” he started saying, but Garrett cut him off.

“Don’t fucking talk to her, you little shit!” He was saying. “How dare you do that to her?”

Kennedy opened his mouth. Garrett cut him off. Again.

“Trying to pressure a girl into something she isn’t ready for is a really shitty move. You must be a really shitty guy, then. Don’t you think you’ve put her through enough? Calling her names, insulting her body, and then now that you’ve got something good, you’ve got to go fuck it up, don’t you?”

Kennedy had his mouth agape, and he kept on closing and opening it. He looked like fish.

I was still blubbering. I felt like we were fast forwarding through this moment. I wanted to rewind.

“Molly, don’t do this, “ Kennedy started saying, and I just shook my head.

“She didn’t do anything,” Garrett hissed. “You did, you stupid motherfucker.”

And then he took a step closer and socked Kennedy in the face. I gasped as I heard the distinct crack of knuckles and bone. Kennedy started clutching his nose.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, and Garrett pulled his hand back, massaging his knuckles.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” I screamed, torn between standing and watching and rushing over to Kennedy to see if he was okay. I really wanted to, but something was stopping me.

“I-” They both started at the same time, before glaring and stopping. There was blood dripping from the hand clutched around Kennedy’s nose, and Garrett was sucking one of his knuckles.

“Is it fucking impossible for boys in this town to act normal?” I started. “Because first I have Kennedy fucking Brock acting like a Grade - A douche and then Garrett starts beating the shit out of his best friend, and it’s too hard!”

I started crying again, as Kennedy started mumbling stuff about how he was stupid and how Garrett was stupid and how he didn’t want this to happen. Garrett just looked at me.

“Why does this have to be so hard?” I whimpered out, before turning sharply on my heel and running down the stairs. Kennedy’s mom was standing at the landing, another one of those sympathetic looks on her face.

I just shook my head at her, prepared to call Mia to come get me, but then her mouth open.

“Honey,” she said, her voice thick with remorse. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”