Hey, Darling.

I was nervous. My breathing was heavy and I couldn’t find the will to move. Mia had pushed me out of the house at ten o’clock in the morning, telling me to get it over with and fix this “thing.”

Now here I was, standing there trying to get the will to knock. What if he was mad? Sad? What if he decided that I wasn’t worth it and that he just wanted things to end?

In a rush of adrenaline, I leant forward and knocked on the door three times. Immediately, I regretted it. I shouldn’t have let Mia force me to come. I should have just left things alone.

Did I want things to change? Yes. Did I want this horribly awkward situation? No.

I heard the feet thunder down the stairs and contemplated for a moment just booking it out of there. However, I was wearing a short dress and flats, meaning that I probably wouldn’t get very far without giving someone a show of my bottom or letting Kennedy know that I was here.

So basically I had to suck it up and face the music.

I kind of hoped that his mother would answer the door. Then, I could just make up some bullshit excuse and leave. I was already chickening out.

My luck wasn’t like that, though.

I heard his voice before he even opened the door and my breathing stopped. As the door opened, it felt like my entire body just froze. Kennedy stopped moving, too. He looked at me for a second. I almost wondered if he was going to slam the door in my face. He didn’t, though. He just got this really weird look on his face and stepped out of his house quickly, shutting the door behind him.

He stood less than a foot in front of me, and while I wanted to move back, my muscles weren’t cooperating. Kennedy almost looked relieved that I was standing in front of him, but he also looked a little nervous.

Was he as nervous as I was?

“Hey,” he greeted, nodding his head slightly as he shoved his hands deep inside of his pockets.

“Hey,” I breathed out in response, my voice light. I was getting worse the longer I stood in front of him.

“Why are you here?“ Kennedy asked bluntly, but his voice wasn’t rude. He seemed curious. Was I here to yell at him? Apologize?

I was almost as confused as he was, but I had a plan to stick to. Mia had gone over this with me. I was just supposed to tell him the truth - whatever that was.

“I-I-I-,” I stuttered out, my words stammering and making me flustered. I blushed so hard my neck lit up. “I made a mistake.”

My voice was quiet, but he heard me. I could tell he heard me by the way his eyes shone. He looked happy, but there was this underlying tone of guilt? Why was he guilty? Was he feeling the affects of taking my virginity?

“You did?” He questioned.

I nodded slowly, my throat tightening. “I did. I overreacted.”

Kennedy shook his head. “No, you didn’t,” he protested. “You under reacted. I did something indescribable. You shouldn’t be talking to me right now.”

I shifted. What did he want me to say to that? “I have to get over it,” I told him. “I was probably going to loose my virginity to you anyway, and there is a part of me that’s kind of glad that it happened.”

Kennedy shook his head vehemently. “No. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. You were supposed to remember it.”

“I remember some parts of it,” I admitted. “And I’m kind of glad that I didn’t remember the pain.”

Kennedy looked bewildered and angered at the same time. “No, Molly,” he was saying. “That’s not how it’s supposed to happen. I fucked up, again. I fucked up big time. Be mad at me. Hate me.”

I shook my head. “I can’t hate you,” I pointed out. “I’ve tried. It’s impossible. I want to give this a chance.”

Kennedy rubbed his hand over his face, seemingly exasperated. I didn’t understand his reaction. Wasn’t he supposed to be happy about this? Wasn’t he supposed to love me wanting to fix things? This was what he asked for, wasn’t it? A chance? Now that he had it, why wasn’t he welcoming it with open arms? Why was he pushing me away?

“We can’t give it a chance.” He stated. “I won’t let it. You deserve better than me.”

“No, I don’t! I want you. I want to try this again. I know that you messed up a lot, but I’ve always been attracted to imperfect men. I told you that the first time we got drunk! I told you that I liked flaws.”

“I have too many flaws,” he shook his head. He did that a lot. “We can’t do this. We can’t fix this.”

“Why not?” I asked him, my voice getting louder. “Do you not want to fix this?”

“No, Molly-” he broke off, and he had this torn expression on his face. “I don’t want to.”

It was like getting socked in the stomach. Or kicked in the face. Or shoved off a cliff. It was like this clawing feeling in my stomach tearing at my insides and making me cringe. It was making tears build up in the back of my eyes and spill over. I brought my hand up to my mouth, trying to hold back the mangled sob that I wanted so desperately to let loose.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have believed that I could just walk back to his house and try to fix everything? I hadn’t taken into consideration Kennedy’s feelings. I had only thought about myself. I never thought about what would happen if Kennedy wanted to let things as they were. I hadn’t thought about what would happen if Kennedy didn’t want to fix it.

“You don’t…” My voice was rough and my words were cracking. I had to say it to comprehend it. “…want me?”

It shouldn’t have been a question because I knew the answer, but I couldn’t stop the desperation clinging to my words. I wanted him to take it back. I wanted him to say that he was kidding and then fold me in my arms and tell me that he loved me.

Tell me that you love me and it’ll be alright.

Kennedy’s entire face crumbled. He looked broken as he stepped forward, but now I had the power to step back. I didn’t want him near me. When he was near me, he hurt me.

“Molly,” he said my name weakly, and his eyes were shining with what I thought maybe could have been tears. But probably not. “Molly, baby, don’t say it like that.”

“How am I supposed to say it?” I asked him, a sob breaking my words half way through. I reached up to wipe off my tears but they were just replaced soon after. “Is there a nicer way to word rejection?”

“Molly,” he was reaching out to touch my arm but I flinched away from it. “It’s not that. I just…I don’t deserve you. I’ve made a mistake too many times.”

“But I was willing to forgive you!” I reminded him. “I was willing to put that in the past and start over, but now you don’t want to…”

“It’s not that, baby.” He said. “I’ve just done some stuff you can’t forgive.”

“Like what?” I asked him harshly. “What could possibly be so bad?”

He opened his mouth to speak and I brought my hand to my mouth as I finally let out a cracked sob. Kennedy’s composure was entirely gone now as he looked at me. He looked so sad.

He opened his mouth to say something but then the door opened. I looked up, thinking that it was his mother.

I sobbed again, as Kennedy turned to the door and then turned to me with the saddest eyes.

Bonnie was standing there in a badly buttoned flannel shirt and boy short underwear. He hair was dishevled and her eyes were tired. When she saw me standing there, her eyes narrowed and she looked like she was going to spit out some fierce insults my way.

Kennedy spoke up first.

“Molly, I’m so sorry,” he was saying, but I was already turning on my heel and heading towards the street. I heard Kennedy’s footsteps behind me and he grabbed my arm. I turned to face him and he looked distraught.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to…it was stupid of me, and I can’t take that back. I’m so sorry, Molly. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

I was taking short heavy breaths. I wanted to say it back. I wanted to tell him that I loved him too, but my mouth wouldn’t allow it.

I was done. I knew that the second Bonnie emerged from that door. I was done with this. I was going home. This was just a stupid summer romance and I would probably never forget it, but the rain would fade eventually.

I ripped my arm away from Kennedy’s grass and started running down the street. I could feel the bile snaking up the back of my throat. That was how my stomach reacted to stressful/heartbreaking situations - I threw up.

I stopped running, and turned to the first grassy area I could find. I leant down opened my mouth, letting my breakfast of orange juice and a vegan pancake fertilize someone’s garden.

That was how this was though - throwing up in gardens.

That’s how it started, and that’s how it ended.