I love the girls who hate to love because they're just like me

As the digits on the clock flicked to 7:00pm, all of my clothing, toiletries, and knickknacks were packed into duffle bags and shoved into the corner by the door.

I rummaged through the now empty closet of my former bedroom, trying to find the pair of red converse sneakers I was so deeply in love with. They had so many fond concert memories. Converse are, by far, the perfect concert shoe. Lightweight, tight on the laces, and high-tops never fall off.

I groaned in frustration, knowing if I wasn't able to find them I would probably cry. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up from the ground in my irritated state, but I quickly calmed as my red cons stared me in the face.

"You're the best," I gasped as Brett let them fall to the floor next to me. I lurched forward and hugged his knees, pressing my face into his leg.

"All right, chill," he laughed, trying to wiggle out of my grasp. I loosened my grip before he tripped and pushed myself up off the floor, grabbing my cons and hugging them to my chest.

"Oh how I've missed you, my precious darlings," I muttered to them and Brett laughed at me.

"They haven't seen the light of day in months. They were under your bed."

"Ew," I cried, scrunching up my nose and dropping them to the floor. He laughed again and picked them up for me, tossing them over his shoulder like hockey skates.

"So, do we have everything?" he asked, sticking his hands into his pockets as he looked around the plain looking room. The apartment had come furnished, so none of the chairs were mine, except for the small fold-up one that I had lent Jon a few weeks ago. He could keep it. I didn't want it back.

"Yeah, I think we're good," I said, walking out of the bedroom. "Did you grab the stuff from the fridge?" Brett paused and looked at me for a minute.

"You mean the old cold cuts and the mouldy cheese?" I was glad I hadn't decided on the sandwich after all.

"Oh," I laughed lightly, "never mind then. We can leave that for Jon to take care of." Brett laughed but I could hear the slight sadness in his voice. He was feeling bad for me and I couldn't have that. "Hey," I said softly, grabbing onto his arm as we reached the front door. "Don't you start that." He looked at me with a sad smile and sighed after a minute.

"You don't deserve all this bull, Avery," he muttered, "You really don't, and I hate watching you take hit after hit."

"I'm a tough chick, Brett, you know that," I smiled, hitting him the arm lightly. "I can take it, don't worry about me."

"I just wish I could do something," he said softly, more to himself than to me, and I hit him in the chest with my open palm. He looked up at me a bit shocked and I glared.

"Shut the hell up," I said, shaking his head. "You're already doing too much." He rolled his eyes so I hit him again. "Brett!" I scolded, shaking my head, "You're letting me move into your house, for God's sake! You're letting me invade your personal space-"

"Like you don't do that already," he grinned and I laughed lightly, glad his mood was looking up.

"And most importantly, you're there for me. You're everything a best friend should be, and more, so don't you dare go beating yourself up over this, especially when it's not even your fault."

"I know," he sighed, "I just feel awful sometimes. I love you and I don't like seeing anything bad happen to you."

"I know," I smiled and he messed up my hair after a minute, lightening the mood.
"All right, let's grab your things and toss them in my car."

"Hey, hey," I said quickly, holding my hands up to stop him. "There will be no tossing of the bags."

"Fine," he laughed, "I'll place them in the trunk."

"You sure that old thing can handle it?" I joked and he glared at me.

"You're a real comic genius, you know that, Avery?" I laughed and bent down, slipping on my vans. Brett pulled on his shoes as well and I grabbed my messenger bag from the floor, slinging it over my shoulder.

I made sure I had my key and picked up the first of five duffle bags, wondering then if we could do this all in one trip. I really didn't want to come back up here. I grabbed a second bag, weighing my odds, and Brett, being the strong show off he is, grabbed the other three, all at once.

"Hey, do you want to carry these ones too?" I asked sarcastically and he made a face that made me laugh. "Let's go."

We had a bit of trouble closing the door behind us, so we didn't. We made our way downstairs and into the main hall, towards the front door. Brett made it out the doors but I wasn't so lucky. I heard my name being called, well, more like shouted, from behind us.

"Avery!" I paused, dropping my duffle bags on either side of me. I turned around and reached into my pocket as Jon rushed up to me, panting from his short run from the front desk. "I'm so glad I caught you-"

"Take it," I said, grabbing his hand and stuffing my key into his palm. I closed his fingers around it and grabbed my duffle bags again, turning around and making my way outside without another word. I didn't think I'd be able to talk to him for another second without ripping him a new one.

Brett stood at the trunk, arms outstretched, reaching for the bags I held. I handed them to him, one by one, and he stuffed them in with the others, slamming the trunk shut with some difficulty.

Brett made his way along the side of his car, opening the driver's side door and sliding in. I followed his actions, getting into the passenger's side, and Brett started up the car.

"Do you want to get something to eat first?" he asked. "You look kind of hungry."

"Yeah actually, I'm starving. I haven't eaten all day," I said, just coming to the realization. Brett gave me a stern look and I pretended not to notice, staring out the windshield. "Where to?" Brett put the car into drive and pulled out onto the nearly empty street.

"What are you in the mood for?" he asked, giving me a quick glance before bringing his eyes back to the road in front of us.

"Everything," I sighed, rubbing my stomach. Brett laughed and I gave him a small smile. "Hey, do you remember that place we used to go when we were kids?" I asked suddenly and Brett looked over at me with a huge grin.

"Steve Down's?" he asked, looking back at the road.

"The best burgers in town." We both laughed as I recited the slogan and Brett sighed.

"Those were some good times."

"Yeah, thinking back on it, it totally reminds me of one of those old diner shows," I laughed. "Sitting in the comfy red booth, sipping milkshakes and eating burgers. Definitely old school." Brett laughed as well and gave me a nod. We used to head there every day after school. Of course, Steve Down's was three towns over, but I was more than willing to sit in the car for an hour and a half.

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We arrived at the old diner and Brett took the spot right next to the front door. The parking lot was bare except for a large, red hummer. I rolled my eyes at the yuppie and got out of the car, slamming my door shut. He was probably just passing through, seeing what he could get on the road.

Brett and I walked up the two small steps and into the diner, the familiar bell ringing above our heads as we entered. The place was pretty vacant. There was a young guy, I assumed the hummer owner, sitting at the counter, sipping a soft drink and eating a burger as he read the paper.

I wondered if Steve Down was still alive. He had been in his late sixties when Brett and I had last seen him. He used to slide us free milkshakes from time to time. I wondered if he would remember us.

A small woman walked out from the back with a friendly smile on her face.

"Hi there," she greeted in a southern accent, wiping her hands off on her white and blue apron. "What can I get you folks?" Brett looked at me and I smiled at him. We would get our usual: a Down Burger, cheese and extra mayo, fries, and a chocolate milkshake.

"The usual," an old, hoarse voice called. Brett and I both looked back to the woman and there was Steve, standing right next to her, his hand on her shoulder.

My smile grew as the bearded man smiled warmly at us. I couldn't believe it. It was Steve! He was older, his hair was greyer and his belly larger, but it was Steve all right.

"How are you kids doing? I haven't seen you in years." His rosy cheeks reminded me of Santa and childhood memories of make believe. He set his hands into the pockets of his apron and smiled at us.

"It's been a long time," Brett said, and I nodded.

"We were craving one of your famous burgers so we drove up from Vegas, hoping we'd see you." A look of slight shock crossed the woman's face but Steve didn't seem too surprised.
"Is that where you kids are hiding these days?" I gave a nod and he smiled.

"Yeah, we weren't sure if you'd remember us," Brett said and Steve waved off his comment.
"Nonsense, I remember all my loyal customers. Now, I should get making those burgers, you look hungry, Avery." I couldn't believe he even remembered my name. "Marian," he said, turning to the woman at his side, "Would you be a dear and make these two kids their chocolate milkshakes? Oh, and Brett here likes an extra shot of chocolate." It was amazing how he could remember such things that, to us, seemed so trivial.

Brett laughed lightly as Marian gave Steve a nod. She smiled at us and Steve went into the back to make our burgers. It was then that I noticed we had drawn the attention of Mr. Big Shot Hummer. He was staring at us with interest and eyeing me in particular. I pretended not to notice as I wrapped my arm around Brett's waist. He casually draped his arm over my shoulder and we made our way over to our booth.

"Remember the time when that new kid, Kendra, came with us after school?" Brett nodded, encouraging my story. "She told that joke and we all laughed so hard that milkshake came out our noses." We both laughed and Brett nodded, folding his hands and resting them on the table. "She never had to worry about making friends, she was funny." I leaned back in the comfy booth, letting all the good memories flow back to me. Time passed without conversation, but I hadn't realized, until Steve brought us our food.

"There you are kids," he smiled, setting some napkins down for us as well. "Enjoy."

"Thanks," Brett and I said in unison. We ate slowly, trying to preserve what little time we had left here, but time seemed to go by all too quickly. Soon, the sound of empty slurping from our milkshake cups filled the quiet diner atmosphere.

"I haven't tasted anything this good since after graduation," Brett sighed, leaning back into the large red cushion.

"Me neither," I agreed, smiling in satisfaction. Steve came back, slowly waddling over to our table with his warm smile on.

"Have you kids had enough, or would you like another shake?"

"Oh, no thanks Steve," I said, raising my hand, "I'm super full." He smiled and gave us a nod.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Come back and visit soon," he said, grabbing the empty plates and glasses.

"Thanks," Brett said and we both stood up, following Steve over to the register.

"Oh, no you don't," he said, stopping us before we could reach the till. He set the dishes on the counter and shook his head at us. "This one's on the house. You two have been my greatest customers since you were this high." He motioned to his hip, but I distinctly remember being taller than that the first time I ate here.

"Steve we can't," I said as Brett laughed lightly.

"Oh yes you can little missy. Now you two run along, enjoy the rest of the night. We're closing up soon." I sighed lightly and gave Steve a hug, which I think surprised him. He smelt like a campfire, smoky but calming. His beard tickled my neck and I smiled over his shoulder.

"It was nice seeing you again, Steve," Brett said for me as I pulled away. He nodded in agreement and that was the end of our blast from the past. We thanked Marian and noticed the hummer guy was gone as we stepped outside. We walked back to the car and got inside, Brett starting up the engine.

"I don't know about you, but I feel like some Switchfoot." Brett grinned and I reached into the glove box, pulling out Switchfoot's The Beautiful Letdown CD. The last time we came to this joint we listened to them on the drive back home and I imagined things were as simple as they were back then.

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All the fun and excitement of the evening had made me forget where my problems truly lay.

We arrived back home at 11:13pm. I prayed those two guys were asleep, or dead, or something.

I climbed out of the car and forced my legs to work, making my way up the ever elongating driveway. There was no doubt in my tired mind that I was ready for bed. I stumbled up the steps and Brett caught me with his hand around my waist.

"Come on, Avery, we're almost inside," he whispered softly.

"Carry me?" I asked hopefully, but Brett simply laughed. I let out a yawn as he opened the door, releasing me from his grasp. We stepped inside and I used the wall for support as I kicked off my shoes behind me. They landed on a pair of black Draven slip-ons, but it didn't really matter to me.

I could hear the TV in the living room as I walked down the hall, Brett at my side.
"Go to bed, Avery, I'm going to stay up for a bit."

"Kay," I mumbled, passing the living room slowly. Brett went and sat down on the couch, between the two boys. They both looked up at me for a second, but Ronnie's eyes lingered, making me feel uncomfortable again. I felt like going in there and giving him a piece of my mind, but I was way too tired and I'd probably end up making an ass of myself.

I trudged up the stairs and into Brett's room, which was now half mine as well, I suppose. I stripped down to my bra and panties, remembering that we had left my bags in the trunk and I didn't have any PJs.

I didn't dwell too much on that thought as I shut off the lights and wandered over to Brett's bed. I pulled back the covers and practically fell onto the comfy mattress with a sigh. I curled up and pulled the covers over top of me, drifting away into a dreamless sleep.