Count Me the Hours

The next two days went slowly, the hours blurring together. I spent the forty-eight hour period either scrounging for food in Dree and Stephen's bare kitchen or laying on the couch in Josh's room as we watched movies.

Our relationship was strictly platonic. Physical contact was far from scarce though. It seemed that we were always touching. Usually, I had my feet propped in his lap or his head was in mine.

It was nice to be with someone I wasn't romantically involved with that I was comfortable around. There was no need to impress him. We both made off color jokes and were able to laugh at each other.

"Tell me something," I said, absentmindedly playing with the shell of his ear, keeping my attention on Jennifer's Body which was playing on the giant screen of his tv.

"Shoot," he prompted, glancing over at me.

"How do you not have a girlfriend?" I asked, laughing quietly.

"I don't really trust women," he said with a nonchalant shrug.

"Are you serious?" I pressed in disbelief.

"I don't trust anything that bleeds for a week and doesn't die," Josh admitted with a smirk.

"You're a bad person," I told him honestly.

"Then why are you here with me?" he asked, looking over at me, knowing I wouldn't give him a decent answer. I pursed my lips and he sighed. "The world's full of bad people, Lu. But I think you're one of the good ones." He swung his arm over my shoulder.

"So you don't even trust your own mother?" I questioned, continuing on with the previous subject.

"Not a whole lot since I found out that the dog I had when I was eight, Banjo, didn't actually 'run away' like my mom had told me."

"Why would you name a dog Banjo?" I asked, straying from the subject.

"It was just his nickname. My dad called him that because he really wasn't good for anything." Josh shrugged and I laughed at the look on his face.

"Care to tell me the real reason you don't trust women?" I could tell he wasn't giving me the whole story.

"Just been heart-broken a few too many times, I guess. When you're gone for nine months of the year, it's hard for some people to wait around," he admitted, avoiding making eye contact with me.

I smiled sadly, not really knowing what to say. I sighed after a moment and dropped my head to his shoulder.

"It's their loss, Josh," I told him quietly.

"That's what everybody always says," he said, sighing himself. He ruffled my hair and I scowled up at him.

"You need to shave," I said, changing the subject. I rubbed a hand over his two day build up of stubble.

"You think? I was considering going for mountain man look," he joked, pulling away from me.

"I haven't seen many 'mountain men' with blonde hair."

"You obviously aren't looking hard enough then," he scoffed, sounding rather smug. I laughed once before sighing, letting my shoulders slouch immensely.

My phone chimed across the room and with a look of disgust, I stood up, stretching out my back. I reached my phone, pulling it off the charger. Surprisingly, there was a text from Mila waiting for me.

From: Mila
Can we meet up for coffee or lunch somewhere?

Pressing my lips together, I texted her back, asking where and when she'd like to meet. She suggested we meet at a local cafe in an hour. I agreed to meet her there before lifting my suitcase onto Josh's bed.

Wordlessly, I grabbed a change of clothes and headed into the bathroom to shower and change. I showered quickly, letting my hair air-dry once I stepped out of the shower. I dressed, brushed my teeth, and put on minimal make-up before returning to Josh's room for shoes.

"Going somewhere?" he asked. I looked over and he was sprawled out on the couch, his eyes closed.

"I'm getting coffee with my sister. Maybe things will finally start to get better," I said, sighing.

"For your sake, I really do hope so, Lu."

"What do you mean?"

"You've had a bad couple of weeks and you really need something good," he informed me.

I laughed quietly. "Thanks for telling me about my own life," I teased, winking at him. He just shrugged.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled into a parking spot in front of a local cafe. I could see Mila sitting inside, fiddling with her phone. Mila rose to her feet when I entered the shop. I smiled at her awkwardly as I approached her.

"I was waiting for you together here before I ordered, so we can go up together," she said, talking quickly.

"Okay," I responded awkwardly. We walked to the counter and stood in silence. The only time we even spoke was when we ordered our drinks. Mila pair for mine, sliding the cashier her debit card before I could protest. We sat down again and I sighed.

"Lu, I know that since you got here, I've been doing most of the talking, but there is still something else I need to say, and I really need you to listen to this," she started, looking me right in the eye.

"I'm all ears," I told her, preparing myself for whatever she was going to say.

"Mom is sick," she said, getting straight to the point.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"It started as breast cancer and it spread to her lungs. She's been sick for a while and the doctors don't know how much time she has left, but it's not much." Mila pressed her lips together, staring down at the floor.

"I don't believe you," I said, throwing my things into my bag, getting ready to leave.

"She's going to tell you after the wedding. She's worried that this is going to be the last time she sees you and she didn't want you to worry about her," Mila explained.

"If she's going to tell me in a few days, why are you telling me now?" I asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

"I want you to be prepared and also, I want you to at least act happy at the wedding. The only reason John and I are getting married right now is so Mom could throw the giant wedding she always wanted to throw for at least one of us."

"Why didn't you put off the wedding for a while then?"

"John leaves for tour in a week and a half and he'll be gone for two and a half months, be home for a week, then goes right into another tour. We were afraid Mom wouldn't be around the next time he had a break from touring." When Mila finished speaking, I could see tears glistening in her eyes. My stomach was tied in knots that tightened everytime I took a breath. "I just want her to see us truely happy, for once at least."

I nodded, biting down on my tongue as tears stung at my eyes.

"God, can we change the subject please?" Mila asked, laughing awkwardly as she dabbed at her eyes.

"Gladly," I said quietly, taking a sip of my drink.

"What is up with you and Garrett? That's all John and the guys have been talking about," Mila said, raising an eyebrow in interest.

"We had a falling out and I don't know if there's a way to fix it," I told her with a heavy sigh.

"What happened to begin with?" she questioned, leaning back in her chair.

"We were about to...yeah, and he told me he loved me and it really freaked me out. So I left. And the next day, I went over there to get my luggage and Josh went with me-"

"Josh who?" she asked, cutting me off. She had leaned forward, her elbows resting on the surface of the table.

"Montgomey," I clarified and Mila furrowed her brow in thought. "Blonde guitarist in the band with Stephen."

"Oh! The really hot one!" she said, remembering who he was.

"Yeah, him. Anyway, Josh lives with Dree and Stephen, so he drove me over to Garrett's to get my stuff and Garrett punched Josh and it was just horrible. Dree and Stephen threw a party that night and Josh and I kind of maybe got it on. And at the dinner thing last night, Garrett was there with that other girl, and I called Josh to come and pick me up, but he insisted that we stay. I went to the bathroom and Garrett was waiting for me when I came out and he asked me if I slept with Josh, and I told him the truth and I just don't know what to do," I said, ending my rant with a heavy sigh. "It's just a big mess."

"It sounds like it. Damn, you need to get your shit together," Mila informed me with a teasing scoff.

"Don't I know it," I said with a bitter nod.

An hour later, I was loading my suitcases into my trunk yet again. Since Mila and I had resolved our differences, I had decided to return to my mother's house, where I belonged. When I got into my room, my suitcases piled in the corner, I plopped down on the edge of the bed, chewing on my bottom lip. I'd been chewing on the same spot so much over the last few days that it was slightly raw.

I looked around the room that I'd abandoned nearly a week before. Everything was still in it's right place. The bottom drawer of the dresser was slightly open, I noticed. Pressing my lips together, I left the bed to close it. As I approached, I realized what the drawer contained.

When I reached it, instead of closing it, I opened it more. Biting down on my tongue, I dropped to my knees, pulling out one of the shirts Garrett had left behind. It was crumpled and wrinkled, signifying that he'd probably worn it already. The cotton of the shirt was soft as I held it between my fingers. My bottom lip quivered as I fought back tears.

Just holding the shirt, I could remember the smell of his cologne and detergent. A tear slide a quarter of the way down my cheek before dropping onto the fabric of the shirt. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, shaking my head. Sniffling, I put the shirt back in the drawer and stood up, closing it with my foot. It slammed back against the rest of the dresser and I threw myself onto my bed.

Sighing, I reached for my phone which was on the end table beside my bed. My breath caught in my throat as I discovered that I had a missed call from Garrett and a voice-mail as well. I dialed my voice-mail with shaking fingers and put in my password and the message started.

"Uhm, hi Tallulah. Please, don't call me back after this, there's just something I want to say," he paused to clear his throat and my heart skipped a few beats, fearing the worst. "Okay, I don't really know what happened between us, and I know that I hurt you. There was something I wanted to say and this will probably get lost in translation between my head and my mouth, just a warning.

"There's this old story I guess about Greek mythology where it talks about how originally, humans had four arms, four legs, and two heads with two faces. Something happened, I don't know what exactly, but for some reason Zues split them into two separate people. Because of that, everybody was condemned to spend their lives searching for their other halves. The whole point of that was to tell you that I know I've found my other half.

"When we got split, you definitely got the better traits, I know that much. You got the smile and the laugh. You got all the little things that end up driving me crazy. You obviously got more patience than me and you forgive so easily, which isn't a bad thing. I mean, your little sister is marrying the guy you dated for three years and you're just going with the flow. If Trey ever married you or something, I know for a fact that I would kill him. You relax so much easier than I do. You're perfectly content just staying put in one position for a long time and I have to be moving constantly.

"I guess what I just want to say is that I love you and you are completely and utterly perfect. Even if you don't think you're perfect, I know that you are, at least to me. I don't care if you slept with Josh, I don't care if you slept with a hundred guys between now and when you left, I just want you to come back, and I want you to stay. Okay, I take that back. I would only care if you slept with Pat. That would just be flat-out unfair if he got some out of you before I did." He paused to laugh and I could help but smile.

By now, I was full out crying. I had put my phone one speaker, setting it on the bed beside me. My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding.

"I sit here at night and just stare at your pillow and just miss you to no end. I know I was an asshole. I shouldn't have called you all of those names and I shouldn't have punched Josh when you guys were here the other day. I really shouldn't have brought Aria with me to dinner the other night, I just didn't think.

"The whole point of this phone call was just to let you know how much I love you and how much I miss you and how sorry I am. I feel like a total asshole for what happened and I just want you back. I would do anything just to go back to that night when you left and try to change something about it or when you came to get your bags. I don't want this to sound creepy or whatever, but I need you. Since you left, I just feel gone and empty.

"I love you, Tallulah, more than anything. I want you to know that, and I really hope we can figure this out. So, bye?" The line went dead and a recorded voice gave me options of what to do next.

I listened to the voice-mail again and again, to the point that I could remember every word he said and the sound of his voice played in my head with no end. After the sixth or seventh time I listened to it, I saved the voice-mail, and hit end.

Sighing quickly, I wiped my eyes, leaving black lines along my hand from my make-up. Sniffling and still shaking, I did the only thing I could.

To: Garrett
I love you.

I hit send and hoped for the best.