Everyone Pretends They're Happy

Garrett was already sitting in my car before I’d even put my shoes on and sorted my bag out. He sat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and whistled an unfamiliar tune.
‘‘Ready?’’ He asked as I sat in the passengers seat.
‘‘Start it up.’’ I smiled and we started driving down roads I was going to have to learn. ‘‘You know how I said I’d ask you if I had a question?’’ I piped up, breaking the silence between us.
‘‘Yeah…’’ Garrett replied, glancing at me then back at the road.
‘‘Can I ask it?’’ I wasn’t sure if he was going to answer my question, but I was horribly curious.
‘‘Go for it.’’ He smiled, still looking at the road.
‘‘You and Harriet, were you together?’’ His face twisted into an uncomfortable expression and he scrunched his nose.
‘‘For about two year.’’ He replied, his tone didn’t sound happy. ‘‘Things were great for the first year. We kept it from John and the guys for a few month, but Jared got it out of me and told him. He was happy for us both though, pleased that Harriet had found someone that made her happy. But that was before she found out about her mom. She started drinking all of the time. She turned crazy. I couldn’t help her, she wouldn’t let me.’’ He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. ‘‘I broke things off with her and it made her worse. That’s why every time we’re out she shouts and hits me. She says I was too scared to stay with someone as fucked up as her. Tells me everything’s my fault and she’s miserable because I left her.’’ I was sure I saw Garrett’s eyes fill up. ‘‘Its not true though, Evie. I tried to help her. She just wouldn’t let me.’’ He stopped talking and carried on driving, not turning to look at me.
I didn’t know what to say to be quite honest. What could I have said? ‘oh, I’m sorry to hear your ex was a crazy drunken psycho’ I’m sure that wouldn’t make him feel any better.
‘‘Am I allowed to ask you a question, now?’’ Garrett then asked, breaking my trail of thoughts.
‘‘It all depends on the question.’’ I told him, feeling a little guilty that he’d spilt all of that out to me and I wasn’t going to tell him anything.
‘‘Why do you hate New York?’’ He stared at me for about a minute then back at the road.
‘‘That’s not something I want to talk about, Garrett. Not yet.’’ He sighed and shook his head.
‘‘I don’t understand you, Evie. You want to get over what ever happened in New York, you want to move on and be happy, yet you’re keeping it all locked up and hurting yourself by not talking about it. Please, just talk to me.’’ He pleaded, but then came to a stop.
I looked out of the window to see we’d pulled up at college.
‘‘I’ve got to go now. Bye, Garrett. Thanks for driving me.’’ I rushed and grabbed my bag from my feet. But before I had a chance to open the door and run, Garrett had leant over me and pushed the lock down on my door.
‘‘Please, just talk to me.’’ This time, he sounded like he was begging. ‘‘I don’t want to be nosey, I just want you to be happy. Keeping something in that you don’t need to have on your chest wont make you happy, you need to move on.’’ Garrett’s arm was still across my middle keeping the lock down.
‘‘If you want me to be happy and move on, let me do it in my own way, Garrett.’’ I told him, locking eyes and pushing his arm away. I pushed open the door and jumped out of my car, slamming it shut behind me.
I didn’t turn back to look at Garrett, I didn’t want to see how much I might have hurt him with my comment. I just knew I needed to take his advice, but I was too stubborn.