Our Hearts Begin to Crumble.

I had only wanted answers. I had tried all possible means to get Mia to tell me what happened between her and John, but to no avail. She was stubbornly silent on the topic of John,
staring at the television, whether it was on or off, like it was telling her the meaning of life.

I didn’t want to go to John’s again and demand answers. I didn’t want to be angry when I went there either. Both of these were because I didn’t want to see Kennedy, not after our last conversation. It had been easy enough to avoid him - he didn’t seem too keen to talk to me, and I wanted to keep it that way. It was mostly out of shame, embarrassment and, as much as I wanted to deny it, sadness. Kennedy had made me sad and confused with his defeat that day.

But, I could be stubborn too and so I got into my car and prayed like hell that Kennedy would not answer the door when I got to John’s. He didn’t answer the door. John did.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“We’re not at one of your band signings, John. You know me and you probably have some idea how it’s going.”

That’s as far as the conversation progressed. He invited me inside and the anger slowly started to bubble up. How did he look so composed and Mia look so unraveled? He was smiling like he hadn’t just given up on a year long relationship. He was still nervous though, and I contributed that to my presence.

And then she showed up and it all seemed to fall into place.

I didn’t see her come in, my back was to the door but John saw her and his expression changed. I was confused because he looked happy, and as soon as that happiness overtook his face, it was gone and there was desperation. He stormed past me and then I saw her.

She looked like those fragile china dolls I used to get when I was a child, the kind I hated because I wasn’t allowed to play with them. Mia and I were always warned against it because they might break. She didn’t look like she might break, she was past that - she looked broken.

Her eyes were wide, staring past John to somewhere else in the room, and then she started hitting him. Her fists knocked against his chest and she started screaming at him, screaming about how she understood what he wanted. John tried to calm her down, his arms wrapping around her waist, but she kept going.

And then he whispered something in her ear and she stopped. Her arms went limp, her body resting in his. There were tears, streaming the length of her face, and John looked like he was on the verge of crying, too.

They talked a little while longer, me standing there, turning away as to not invade their personal space. I heard their footsteps against the floor, and I turned around as John said my name. He introduced us, and then I got a good look at her.

Emelie. Mia hadn’t told me anything about an Emelie. She hadn’t told me anything about another girl in general.

Who was she? Was John cheating on my sister? Really?

But it didn’t really look that like - generally, cheating relationships weren’t as intimate. There was this look of absolute adoration and commitment on his face when he looked at her, and even if I loved my sister, John did look happy. Emelie looked happy, too, standing there, their hands entwined. She looked uncomfortable, but she looked happy.

I stumbled out words of why I was here, still a little in shock of this girl in front of me.

Looking at her, you could tell that she was sick. There were inches between her thighs, even with her feet pressed together, and you could see all of the bones in her arms. It made me sad looking at her, because it was so obvious that she didn’t think that she was thin. She kept on looking at me, and I caught the look of astonishment on her face.

When John asked her what Mia had said, Emelie looked uncomfortable. She shifted her weight between her feet, and clutched on tighter to his hand.

“She said stuff about my body.” Her voice was so soft, almost too low to hear.

Then, I understood.

I didn’t understand Mia. How could she tell someone, anyone, but especially someone that looked like Emelie, shit about her body? She didn’t need that. It was obvious that she was already sick. Mia shouldn’t have fueled the fire.

John and Emelie conversed quietly. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, so I fished it out. I had a text message from Garrett.

b][Where are you? We’re all @ Rollergo.

At John’s. There soon. Save me a seat.

1 next to Kenny? Gotcha. :D

Sure, if you don’t wanna talk to me anymore. Assface.

I kid, I kid. Hurry! There’s a redhead lack.

:D

John asked Emelie if she wanted to go to dinner with us, and even though she looked a little apprehensive, she agreed. I felt bad for her, because she just looked so fragile. It seemed harmful for someone to be that delicate.

I wasn’t really paying much attention to the two of them, simply because I felt like maybe they needed their alone time.

I walked behind them, far enough back so that I couldn’t hear their conversation. I stared down at my phone, contemplating writing Mia a message or not. I was torn when it came to her situation.

I wanted to feel bad for her - she really loved John. I think she thought that things between John and her would last. But she kind of deserved it at the same time. She couldn’t just go around, saying that kind of stuff to people, and expect to get away with it. That shit didn’t fly.

You should have thought before you opened your mouth.

She would understand. It wouldn’t make her feel better, but I wasn’t going to console her for being in the wrong. She needed to take responsibility for her actions and accept the consequences.

Emelie took the passenger seat of John’s black car, me sliding in the back. The ride was silent, save the soft hum of some CD. I kept my phone in my lap, waiting incase Mia texted me back (unlikely) or if Garrett was wondering where we were (probable).

My phone buzzed just before we reached the diner.

Yo, bitch. Hurry yo ass up.

…WHEN DID YOU BECOME BLACK?

I DUNNO. SOMETIME WHILE I WAS WAITING FOR U.

…we’re here now, man. Calm your shit.

HURRY, HURRY. PAT’S TRYING TO MOLEST ME.

I rolled my eyes, not giving him a reply. I would be inside of the restaurant in less than five minutes, so he would just have to wait until I got in. Besides, it’s not like I could really stop Pat from molesting him. I would just point and laugh.

Emelie held John’s hand as they walked into the diner, and I trailed close behind. They were having some type of hushed conversation, and she kept on looking up at him, this nervous expression on her face. I felt bad for her.

Warped was going to be hard on her, I could tell. Two and a half months without him? He looked like her support system, the thing that kept her going. It looked like maybe he was the reason she could get better. How could she do that if he was at opposite sides of the country?

They were all squished into a booth at the back, laughing at each other and apparently spitting paper wads through their plastic straws. There was a hostess giving them a dirty look, but I doubted that she would say anything about it. She got an extra 20% because it was such a huge group.

Garrett smiled at me as I approached, patting the small space next to him with his hand. I slid into, getting as close as possible, just in case I had to make room for anyone else. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and angled his body towards mine. I didn’t say hi to anyone else. It was like immediately we were in our own little world, and apparently he had a lot to say to me, because he didn’t even exchange any pleasantries.

“So what happened?” He asked, his eyes connecting with mine. I could see the curiosity within.

“I wanted to know what was going on between John and Mia, so I went over to ask John. I was just about to ask him when she came bursting through the door. She looked like a mess, but I’ve never seen him smile that wide before.”

Garrett raised an eyebrow. “What happened? Did they get into a fight?”

I shrugged. “She started punching him - or, trying to punch him - and she was screaming about how right Mia was. I thought John might get mad at her, y’know, because he always get pissed off when people hit him, but he just hugged her and said some stuff to make her calm down.”

Garrett looked impressed. “Did you ever find out what happened?”

I nodded. “Mia…said some things.”

“About?” He prompted.

I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. “She pointed out Emelie’s weight, and asked her questions about her body.”

Garrett’s face was so shocked. His mouth was still open, his eyes furrowed in disbelief. “No.” He said. “Mia’s not like that.”

“I didn’t think so either, but I can’t see Emelie lying about it. She was reluctant to even bring it up, but when she did speak, she was genuine.” I swiped my bangs away from my face, looking up briefly to see what everyone else was doing.

John was clutching Mia’s hand and talking to Jared about something. Pat was looking down at his phone, fingers tapping away viciously. Kennedy was looking in our general direction, but I was convinced that he was looking behind me, not at me. I looked back at Garrett, who still looked like he was in disbelief, but now there was some distaste mixed in.

“Wow.” He leaned back in the booth a little. “That’s…fuck.”

“I know. How could someone do that to another person? I don’t understand it.”

“That’s fucked up.” Garrett shook his head. “What did Mia have to say for herself?”

“I don’t know. I texted her, but she didn’t respond. Like, there’s a part of me that wants her to feel better, because she’s my sister and I love her. But then again, what she did was really, really mean. She hurt someone, and she deserved what she got. I don’t know what to think about it.”

Garrett nodded in understanding. “Yeah. Oh, the drama.” He sighed theatrically for affect, rolling his eyes comically.

I scoffed at him playfully. “Oh, yeah. I haven’t even been here for two weeks and shit has already gone down. Isn’t that how it happens, though?”

“Generally, yeah, for you. I mean, look at the last time you came to Arizona? It took you less than a week to find a party and start your shenanigans.”

“Shenanigans? They were hardly shenanigans. I was just a little…rebellious. And intoxicated. Blame that alcohol.”

He stared at me for a moment, blinking every three to five seconds. Twenty seconds passed. I was ready to open my mouth and change the subject when he burst out into song.

“Let’s get fucked up!” He sang. “Give me some of that A-L-C-O-H-O-L!”

Silence.

I don’t know if anyone else heard him, because they kept on talking, but I remained quiet.

I stared at Garrett. He stared back at me.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” I threatened.

We both simultaneously burst out in laughter. I giggled, my hand covering my mouth, and his body shook with silent laughter. It took a few minutes before we were calmed down, and when I looked up, Kennedy was looking in our general direction again.

I told myself it was because we were giggling like five-year-olds and looked obnoxious. That was all.

When we both calmed down, Garrett looked over at me.

“Anyway, speaking of the Millionaires and Warped Tour-,”

“We weren’t speaking of them. You randomly burst out into that stupid fucking song.”

He ignored my interjection. “Merch girl. Needed. You. Wanted.”

I looked up at him. “What?”

“I want you to be our merch bitch. Because Trey’s going to be handing out our CDs and walking the line with our sign, and all Josh is gonna do is try and tell people about his band. We need someone reliable, who can actually count money.”

“I’m not going to be your merch girl.” I told him. My voice was firm.

“What? Why not?” Garrett looked at me, confused.

“I’ll get eaten alive!” I exclaimed. “All those little fan girls? Holy shit. They’ll kill me!”

Gary rolled his eyes. “They will not kill you. Maybe question and glare, but not kill.”

“Well, whatever. Maybe they won’t kill me, but they’ll try. And the other guys don’t want me to go anyway, don’t worry.”

Garrett cocked an eyebrow. “How much you wanna bet?”

“A lot.”

“Oh, really?” He looked up from me, before surveying the table and sitting up straighter. I could tell that he was going to make an announcement.

“No, Gary, don’t-,” I tried to stop him, but it didn’t work.

“So,” Garrett started. “Merch bitch.”

Everyone turned to look at him, before nodding and laughing.

“Whose turn is it this year?” He asked.

Everyone turned to each other, shrugging their shoulders.

Jared spoke. “Who are we going to ask?”

“I volunteer Molly,” Garrett said. My eyes widened.

“Wait, what? No, no, no.” I shook my head.

“Why not?” Garrett asked. He was speaking more to the guys than to me. “You’re smart, you know us, we can trust you, and you’ll have fun.”

“It’s hot, smelly, I won’t get to shower daily, I need to set up my dorm room, and um, yeah.” I retorted. I was hoping he would understand what the “yeah” really meant.

Garrett looked like he was going to argue further, but I tugged on his shirt.

“Can we discuss this later?” I asked, my voice tense. I didn’t want to be put on the spot like that.

I knew the guys didn’t care. I had looked at their expressions - except for Kennedy. I didn’t want to know what he thought of the situation. That could tear me up inside. His expression could kill me.

Garrett must have saw the fire in my eyes, because he shrugged and sat down, letting the conversation rest at bay. I knew he wouldn’t forget about it, though. That would never happen. He would bring up later.

We sat next to each other in silence. I ate my food and Garrett sipped his drink and looked at me expectantly. I never returned his gaze.

I was angry at him, for putting me on the spot like that. It made me uncomfortable.

I didn’t want to go on Warped Tour. I didn’t want to be stuck with him, and to have those memories shared. I wanted to enjoy the summer in Arizona, drinking sweet tea and riding my bike around town. I wanted to enjoy my time before college.

When dinner was finished, Garrett walked close behind me as we walked out. I ignored him, even when he tried to reach out and touch my arm.

I kept walking. He jogged to catch up to me.

“C’mon, Molly.” He sighed. “Don’t be upset. I just wanted to know what everyone else thought about it, and they all seem to agree, so I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“The big deal is that I don’t want to go.”

“Why not?” He didn’t seem to understand it. It was so obvious to me.

“I just…don’t, okay? I want to enjoy my summer here, get ready for school.”

“This could be an adventure!” He insists. I shake my head at him.

“Garrett, please… I just - I really don’t want to. Please just drop it. I want to enjoy the next few days of you being home.”

Garrett looked defeated, and I really hoped that he would just let it drop.

I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to be that close to Kennedy. I didn’t want to feel that tension. I didn’t want to feel that rejection when he found some gorgeous girl he wanted to date. I didn’t need that.

I just needed a summer to relax. To have fun and enjoy life.

“Okay.” He said, his voice low. “Okay, whatever. I’ll drop it.”

He moved to walk away, but I reached out for his hands. I clasped his in mine. I did not link our fingers, but I held his hand.

He did not look entirely happy with me, but he stopped and walked with me anyway.

Neither of us said anything.