Our Hearts Begin to Crumble.

There were a lot of things I had planned to do when I got back to Arizona – revisit Buttons, see my grandma, spent some time with all of the guys. I had wanted a clean start; a nice, simple beginning, so my time here wouldn’t end up like the one previous. I wanted to see the Arizona sunset, the blend of magentas and oranges melting and sinking before my eyes. I wanted to do a million things that I had been too wrapped up to think about before.

I had no intention on talking to – no, yelling at – Kennedy. That was the stupid, irrational part of me shining through, stalking and yelling and screaming like the banshee that I generally wasn’t. I knew what I said. I also knew that Kennedy understood the context of my words, the hidden meaning besides the screeching and repetition of John’s name.

He understood, which meant that he was either fuming or jumping joyously. I wasn’t sure which reaction would merit more emotion. I also wasn’t entirely sure which reaction I favored more. If he was angry, I would have a reason to be angry too. I would be able to continue on, seething and telling the world I hated him. If he was happy, then I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to react to that.

I rested a hand on the steering wheel, gripping tight fingers around the thick plastic. My head rested against the vinyl backing of the seat, eyes closed. I inhaled deeply, from my stomach, my chest, then my shoulders. I exhaled from my shoulders, chest, and then stomach. I felt no reaction. Yoga techniques were not sufficing in this time of stress.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” I sneered underneath my breath, snapping my eyes open and staring straight ahead. I was already making a mess.

A huge fucking mess.

I had preached and preached about how mature I was now, how vastly I had changed, but yet my actions showed no trace of this. I was acting like a fourth grader, yelling and screaming for no exact reason. Except I did have a reason, even if it wasn’t a justifiable one.

I ran a hand through my bangs, letting the thin hairs brush back against my forehead. I closed my eyes again, rubbing my left temple. There was a stress headache already brewing.

Tap, tap, tap.

Three raps on the driver’s side window made my eyes snap open and my body jolt forward. My heart beat accelerated.

Garret stood, hands dangling at his sides, leant towards the window. His face was pressed up against the glass.

“Holy shit,” I rasped as I unlocked the doors. Garret beamed at me, before walking around to the other side.

“Hola.” He greeted with a smile, pushing his bangs back from his forehead. He slammed the door behind him and I locked us both in.

I denied replying, instead placing a hand over my heart, as if that would somehow slow down the thumping. It didn’t. I breathed in deeper.

“So it was that bad, huh?” He asked, turning his body to face me.

I nodded. “Worse than bad.”

“Horrendous?”

“Worse than that.”

He laughed. “I doubt it was worse than horrendous. Kennedy didn’t seem too mad. Confused as fuck, though.”

I let out a sigh. “I’m confused too.”

“Why’d you do it?”

I looked away from Garret’s face, turning my attention towards the windshield. I was parked two blocks down from Kennedy’s house, because I couldn’t hold off my freaking out any longer than the three minute drive.

“I don’t know.” I answered him honestly. “At first, I was talking about John and Mia, because I was so pissed off, and then I just started saying things that were related to us, not them.”

“Kennedy didn’t tell me what you said.”

I shrugged. “I screamed a lot, about not deserving to be treated badly and stuff. God, I was so stupid. When I stopped screaming, Kennedy started yelling at me, telling me to be rational and not act like suck a psychotic bitch.”

Garret’s eyes narrowed. “He said that?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not exactly, but it was implied.”

Garret rolled his eyes too. “Don’t put words in his mouth just to make him seem like the bad guy. He got verbally attacked by the girl he’s obsessed with – he’s gonna be confused, and maybe a little mad. Give him a break.”

I humphed in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. I hated the way I was acting, like a toddler that didn’t get her way at a toy store.

I just hated being reprimanded.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, looking down at my lap. “I didn’t want things to start out like this. I wanted everything to go smoothly. I just don’t want drama anymore.”

Garrett stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes searing a hole in my cheek. I refused to meet his gaze. Finally, he spoke.

“If you want to fix things, you’re going to have to make amends with Kennedy.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Garrett silenced me with a look. “Don’t start bitching.” He said. “You know it’s the truth. You guys just need to be friends again. Not even friends, just acquaintances. You need to talk, and you know it. Really talk, not just you screaming and him listening. You need to listen to what he has to say too.”

I didn’t want to listen to what Kennedy had to say, because then I knew that I would crack. All words out of that boy’s mouth could get me to crumble, to stutter and break underneath him. If I listened to his side of the story, I wouldn’t be able to be mad anymore. Then what emotion would I spend all of my time focusing on?

Garrett was right though, and I knew that.

The only way for my life in Arizona to work was to make peace with Kennedy. We needed to figure things out, so we weren’t causing so much drama within our group of friends.

“When do I talk to him?”

Garrett shrugged. “I’d say whenever you’re ready, but then you probably would make up an excuse and never do anything.” He gave me a pointed look. I glared.

Garrett had this uncanny ability of reading me way too well.

“However,” he continued. “I would talk to him soon, because Warped starts in like, a week, and then you’ll never have the time.”

I nodded. “Should I talk to him now--?”

“God no!” Garrett looked like he was having a seizure, he was shaking his head so hard. “He’s still upset. Give him some time, talk to him tomorrow. Just prepare yourself for it, okay? I’ll call him and tell him to meet you somewhere, just pick a place.”

I nodded.

I didn’t know what else to say.

My mind was already having a battle on how exactly I was going to approach the conversation. How was I supposed to prepare myself for something like this? The conversation planned to be had tomorrow was most likely going to turn our really good, or really bad, and I knew, I just fucking knew, that something big was going to happen.

Something big always happened.

I mentally rolled my eyes at myself, before turning to Garrett and thanking him. He shrugged.

“No biggie. Now, I demand French fries, In ‘N Out style.”