Our Hearts Begin to Crumble.

Of all the things I had missed about Arizona, I hadn't thought the heat would be one of them. Even as we stumbled out of the van, the moon hanging above our heads, the heat was still evident. It was humid. I was hot, my shorts sticking to the back of my legs and my arms feeling sticky against the chiffon of my camisole.

I was disoriented as I stepped onto the gray asphalt. My hand reached up to rub some sleep from the corner of my eyes. I swiped a few loose strands of fire-truck red hair from my cheek. I hiked my bag further up on my shoulder. I face my body towards the van, checking my reflection in one of the tinted mirrors.

I stalled.

I didn't want to turn around. I knew that there was someone standing there, their hands shoved into the depths of their pockets and their haird ishelved - after all, that's the look band boys were best with. My heart was beating frantically as I thought about the conversation that we were bound to have, the awkward silences bound to set over us. I already knew that I would stumble over my words.

With a heaving sigh, I turned away from the van, towards the group of people awaiting our arrival. John and Mia were already up the path, waving and nodding to those that exchanged greetings. Apparently, a lot of people were waiting for this.

When I turned around, I was expecting a lot of things - for him to be there, that incredibly adorable half smile on his face. I had expected him to look at me with twinkling eyes, and stammer out a greeting of hello. I had expected a lot.

I had expected wrongly.

As my eyes searched the sea of people standing on the lawn, I didn't find his face. He wasn't there, waiting for me. I had the smallest inkling that he wouldn't be in the house, either.

Kennedy wasn't there.

It took me about half a second of sweeping eyes to realize who was going to be there. Who was going to greet me the second I stepped over that curb and onto the lawn? Who was going to be the one there - and I meant that in a metaphorical and literal sense? Who was it going to be?

Iney, miny, miney, moe.

Why was I even guessing? The answer had already been given to me - the last pedal of that daisy plucked and thrown to the ground.

Who?

Garrett.

He smiled at me gently as I stepped over the concrete boarder and onto the plush grass. He stepped towards me as I stepped towards him. His arms were around me quickly, snaking around my waist and pulling me into his chest. I hugged him back, though not as fiercely, and buried my face into his clothed chest. I think maybe he thought he was comforting me, but he wasn’t. He was just making it worse. He was just reminding me of what I wasn’t going to have anymore.

I pulled away from Garrett slowly, before turning and facing the house. I looked at Garrett and then back at the house.

“Is he in there?” I asked him quietly, my question coming out just barely above a whisper. Garrett looked at me with saddened eyes, before shaking his head.

“No. He didn’t show up.”

I nodded, rubbing a hand over my face again. I was exhausted.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Garrett smiled warily at me, before wrapping his arm around my waist and leading the way into the house. It was filled to the brim full of people, probably creating a few fire hazards. Everyone had one of those red plastic cups in their hands, and everyone seemed to be having fun.

I had asked Mia why we were stopping at a party the second we got to Tempe. Could we go to John’s house (now Mia’s permanent place of residence, too) and clean up first? Then it would have been easier for me to weasel my way out of coming to the party.

But now. We had to come here first. I hated parties. I always fucked stuff up at parties.

Examples one, two, and three: his name was Kennedy Brock.

“C’mon,” Garrett whispered in my ear. “We’ll just get you something to drink - non alcoholic, if you want - and we’ll go sit and talk. We have a lot to catch up on.”

I looked over at him and nodded, giving him a thankful look through my eyes. Garrett always seemed to understand my moods. He knew exactly what my mood was without even having to ask a question. I guess, in a way, Garrett understood me.

We walked into the kitchen slowly, waving and smiling at everyone who greeted us. I was surprised at how many girls said hello to me - before, none of them had talked to me. I guess now that I wasn’t dating Kennedy I wasn’t a total bitch. In their eyes, at least.

Garrett grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and handed it over to me. I took it gratefully, and watched as he mixed himself a drink. I wasn’t paying enough attention to know what exactly he was making. I didn’t care much.

When we was done, he led me out the back door and into the back yard. Houses like these always had a back yard. They were always exactly the same. The walls were painted in an array of beiges and the furniture was middle class. There was always a keg in the middle of the kitchen and red plastic cup littering the floor. The music was too loud, the people were too friendly, and the headaches the next morning always hurt just a little bit too much.

Garrett sat down on the porch seat. I sat down too, before folding me legs up underneath me. I uncapped my water bottle and took a huge sip, soothing some of the burning in the back of my throat.

“How are you holding up?” He asked.

I looked over at him, blinking a few times, before shrugging. “I’m okay.” It was as honest as an answer as I could give.

How was I holding up? I honestly had no idea. Right now, I was kind of regretting my disease to go to college in Arizona. I should have just went to San Francisco State.

“That’s good.” Garrett nodded, even though I knew that he knew that I was lying.

“You?” I didn’t really care to know. I was being polite.

“I’m good. We’re playing a few Warped dates this year, so that’s going to be fun, and then we have a tour with All Time Low and Mayday Parade that I’m really looking forward too.”

I nodded.

I had forgotten about that. Musicians - they tour. So that meant Kennedy wouldn’t be around as often as I had thought. I had mixed feelings about that. I pushed those mixed feelings way back.

“Why did you come back?” The question didn’t surprise me - not coming from Garrett, at least. He didn’t sound angry or malicious. Just genuinely interested.

“I wanted to be closer to Mia. It’s weird - she’s my twin, you know? And it’s really hard not being around her sometimes, because even though we fight, she’s my best friend. My senior year was hard enough without her - I didn’t want to go through that again.”

He nodded. “What are you studying?”

“English, even though I don’t want to write as a living. I was thinking about something regarding animal rights as a career, because that’s what I’m really passionate about.”

“You’re vegan, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s cool. I couldn’t do that - vegetarian, maybe, but I love cheese too much.”

“I was like that, too. I was married to cheese, and I felt like I was cheating on it the second I bought a package of substitute.”

Garrett laughed. “Yeah, that does sound like cheating. The block of cheddar must have been pissed.”

“Definitely. It was giving me the evil eye everywhere I went. Especially Safeway. Safeway cheese is vicious.”

“Isn’t Safeway cheese, like, Lucerne or something?”

“Yeah. Lucerne is vicious. They don’t like cheaters.”

We both laughed together, before settling into a silence. I nursed my water bottle as Garrett finished up the remains of his mixed drink.

“Do you think you’re going to get back together?” Garrett asked me.

I didn’t let myself think about it. I went with my gut instinct, which was a shake of my head and one syllable. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t stand cheaters.”

“Oh.”

“You grew up, didn’t you?” Garrett questioned after a few awkward seconds of silence. “That year, it made you change?”

I didn’t stop myself from nodding. “Yeah, it did. I hurt for so bad - it was like this hole, just there, empty, void. Slowly, I started to change. I grew up. I blossomed into this - this girl. This something. And I don’t know if I changed for good or bad.”

“Good.” Garrett seemed so sure of this. “You changed for good. You could never change for bad, Molly. There’s too much light in you.”

“Thank you.”

We spent the rest of the night just talking. Not about anything in particular - why I was so passionate about animal rights (I told him he really didn’t want to know, but he insisted), and why music was so important to him.

Garrett and I had been close before, yeah. I mean, he punched Kennedy on a variety of occasions.

Now, though, things seemed different. I was seeing Garrett in a different light. He seemed like maybe he had potential. Not boyfriend material or anything ridiculous like that - I wasn’t ready for that - but potential to be my best friend.

I think I could trust him.

After a night talking, I realized that maybe Arizona wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe Kennedy and I could just be friends - if even that, and maybe I could go to school, work really hard, and make a name for myself. I didn’t need love. I didn’t feel like I would ever need love again.

I had already wasted my one chance of true love - it would be selfish of me to search for another.

By the end of the night, I was feeling better. By the end of the night, I was feeling like I had gotten my priorities straightened out - like I knew exactly what I needed to do, like I had a life plan. By the end of the night, I was feeling clear. I had clarity.

So by the end of the night, when I got that stupid fucking text message, I actually had the guts to respond.

I love you. - K-man.

No, you don’t. - Molly.