Count Me the Hours

Early the next morning, I rolled over, Garrett's arm still around my waist. I sighed, pulling away from his grasp, grabbing my phone and walking quietly into the bathroom. I sat down on the edge of the tub, dialing Sarah's number, knowing she'd be up.

It rang several times and just as I thought it'd go to voicemail, she answered.

"Up early, or up late?" she asked without a formal greeting.

"Eh, a bit of both. How's the fort holding up without me?"

"Well, for one, there's no wait for the bathroom," she joked with a laugh.

"Hey," I protested. According to her, I spent too much time in the bathroom.

"Either way," she said in a sing-songy voice. "How'd the dress fitting go?"

"Horrible. Mila got all of my measurements wrong. But, on the bright side, the dress is stunning."

"That's a plus. How was yesterday with what's-his-face?"

"Garrett? Good. We went to a party last night and he's currently passed out in my bed.

"You dirty little slut," Sarah aid with a teasing gasp.

"Only for you." I laughed. "But I took his keys last night and it was just easier for him to stay here. You know my heart belongs to you."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," she said with a laugh of her own.

"I need to get a shower and what not; I'm pretty sure Mila mentioned something about running errands today."

"Have fun."

"I'll try," I said with a sigh. "Bye, darling."

"Bye," she responded as I hung up.

I ran my fingers through my sleep-matted hair and stared at myself in the mirror across the room. With another sigh, I grabbed a change of clothes from my suitcase and returning to the bathroom.

After a nice, hot shower, I braided my hair, not even bothering to dry it first. Brushing my teeth, I found my mind drifting to the boy asleep in my bed. Spitting out my mouthful of toothpaste, I cleared my mind.

I left the bathroom and found Garrett sprawled out in the middle of the bed. I scoffed, shaking my head, and opened the top door of my dresser, grabbing the bottle of Tylenol. I placed the bottle on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed and using all of the force I possessed to roll the sleeping boy towards me. There was a small smile on his lips and his hair was very haphazard and I couldn't help but smile myself.

"Hey, Garrett, time to wake up," I said, slapping his cheek lightly.

He groaned and tried to roll over, mumbling something about chocolate puppies. I laughed, trying again.

"Garrett," I said, louder this time. "Wake up and greet the day!"

This time, his eyes flickered open for a moment before he squeezed them shut, grabbing my pillow and covering his face.

"Seriously, boy, get up," I told him, nudging him with my elbow.

He said something, but all I caught was, "...early...hangover...puppies."

"Awesome story bro, but you need to wake up. And I even got you some Tylenol," I said, picking up the bottle and rattling it near his ear.

"Noo," he moaned quietly.

"Here I am, being nice and waking you up gently. I can go get some ice water to pour on you if you'd like me too." I stood up and as soon as he felt my weight leave the bed, he swung his arm out wildly, trying to grab my wrist to pull me back down to the bed.

I laughed as I sat down again. He pulled the pillow away from his face and smiled up at me.

"What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his slightly blood shot eyes.

"A little after seven."

"Why the fuck are you waking me up at this hour?" he asked with a quiet chuckle.

"That way you know it actually does exist," I joked, nodding.

He laughed quietly, stretching out. "These aren't my clothes," he said, frowning.

"Uhh, yeah," I said awkwardly. "You smelled like smoke and alcohol and I wasn't about to let you stink up my sheets."

"Sureee," he said, throwing me a wink.

For some reason, I could feel a blush rise up the back of my neck. I looked away, wishing I'd left my hair down so I'd at least have a curtain to cover the blush.

"Hungry?" I asked, looking back at him once the blush had dissipated.

"Actually, food doesn't sound good at all," he said with a bit of a grimace.

"You can at least have some coffee," I told him with a smile.

"That sounds really good right about now," he replied, returning my smile.

"You should probably take a shower; you're looking pretty rough," I informed him truthfully, brushing a few pieces of hair off his forehead.

"You're probably right," he said, frowning a bit. He sat up, his eyes going wide as he rubbed his temples. I let out a quiet laugh, handing him the bottle of Tylenol as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"You might want these," I teased.

"Thanks."

"Everything's where it used to be. I think there might even be some of your three and a half year old shampoo under the sink."

"Is that even healthy?"

"No idea, but it's that or smell like strawberry kiwi shampoo."

He thought it over before shrugging. "I'll still be more manly then Pat."

I laughed loudly, putting a hand over my mouth. "That was mean."

"But true," Garrett said with a shrug.

"I'm going to start the coffee," I said, standing up myself.

Before I could step away, Garrett wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me to him.

"Can I help you?" I asked, my voice small, a bit in shock from the contact.

"Thanks for looking out for me last night," he said before pecking me on the cheek, his stubble rubbing against my skin. As quick as we were standing there, he was gone, the bathroom door shut behind him.

Brushing off the light-headed feeling I was left with, I started down the stairs, and as always, the barking started up.

"Good lord, shut up," I said under my breath, heading into the kitchen.

"Oh, there you are! Good morning," Mila said, already awake, to my surprise.

"Hi?" I said, unsure of how to react.

"Did you leave your shower on?"

"Uhm, no. Garrett's taking a shower," I informed her, grabbing two coffee mugs from the rack.

"Oh. Oh!" she said. She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

"Nothing happened, Mila. He was drunk last night and I bright him back here," I explained with a sigh, pouring myself some coffee. I poured in plenty of cream to balance it out.

Mila scoffed, picking up Daisy and settling the puppy in her lap. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Depends. What is it?" I asked skeptically.

"I have some stuff today, but I need some errands to be run. Would you mind running them for me?"

"What errands?"

"I just need to go to a few more places to register for gifts, confirm the flower order, check in with the wedding planner to make sure the venue is all set, and head to the caterer to finalize the menu. Can you please do this for me?"

I thought about it for a minute, taking a drink of coffee before saying, "Fine," against my better judgment.

"Thank you! I'll have John pick you up at ten," she said, taking a drink of her coffee, muffling her voice.

"Wait, no. No, no, no. I refuse," I said, sitting my mug down on the table with a little extra force, causing some to slosh over the side of the mug.

"Lu, please. I need you to do this for me," she said, sounding genuine. "You don't even have to talk to him. Just go with him."

I looked at her, pursing my lips. I sighed heavily and a smile broke out on her face.

"Be ready at ten," she said, wiggling her fingers as she walked out of the kitchen.

I bit down hard on my tongue, standing up abruptly and storming to my room. I slammed the door at the top of the steps, my coffee mug still in my hand. I let out an angry yell, and Garrett came out of the bathroom at a very high speed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sounding alarmed.

"Yeah, Mila's just a conniving little bitch who I hope burns in hell!"

"Wait, what happened?" he questioned after letting out a breath of relief, knowing that I was okay.

"She conned me into running errands with John today," I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, resting my head in my hands.

"Ouch."

"Yeah, I know. She's so fucking manipulative," I groaned angrily. Garrett laughed, sitting down beside me. "I want to break something."

He looked around the room. "I don't think there's a whole lot in here that you can break."

"You're right," I said with a frown. There was a moment of silence and I looked over at Garrett.

In that moment, I noticed that he was wearing only a towel around his waist. His hair was still wet, dripping slightly. Water droplets clung to his shoulders, and chest, and--

I stopped myself, averting my eyes quickly. I bit my lip and stole a glance at him. He was looking down at me and I smiled.

"Why is she such a bitch?" I asked with a sigh, leaning my head against his shoulder. His shoulder was warm against the skin of my cheek and I felt a fluttering in my stomach.

"Well, she is your sister," he said with a teasing tone to his voice.

I nudged him with my elbow. "Thanks."

A few hours later, Garrett was gone and I was sitting awkwardly in the passenger seat of John's car. I kept my eyes staring out the window, not even daring to look over at John. Our encounter days before had just made things even more awkward, and that was before my speech at the engagement party.

Riding with John was always so different from riding with Garrett. Garrett always had his music blaring and the windows down, while John kept his music low and preferred the AC.

The back of my neck was warm and it was spreading to my face from the insane awkwardness. My phone vibrated against my palm and I flipped it over quickly. It slipped out of my sweaty, slightly trembling fingers and landed on my thigh. Cursing myself, I picked it up and opened the
text from Garrett.

how's it going?

I bit my lip and quickly typed a response.

it's so awkward. SOS.

He replied a few minutes later with a smiley face, promising to call me later. I bit my lip and let a quiet sigh slip out.

"Lu, I don't want things to be this way," John said, breaking the silence.

"Well, John, you're the one who made them this way," I replied, glancing over at him quickly. He nodded once and didn't say anything else.

We pulled into the flower shop and were out of there in ten minutes, heading to the caterer's. After confirming the side dishes, desserts, and the 57 fish, 48 chicken, and 62 fillet minion, we headed to the
wedding planners to make sure everything else was set. Once we'd finished that, John parked on the street downtown in the shopping district.

"I don't see why the hell she sent me to do this shit," John said with a bit of a chuckle as we made our way into the first shop.

"At least you're a willing participant in this wedding. I'm here against my will," I said, slightly surprised that he actually opened the door for me.

"How did that happen?"

"Mila's a manipulative bitch, if you hadn't noticed," I informed him as we approached the counter. "Hi, we're here to register for a wedding," I told the woman working.

"Name please?" she asked, offering me a smile.

"It's under either O'Callaghan or Bishop, not sure which," John interjected.

"Ahh, here you are. Just point and shoot, basic skills," she said, handing my the registry scanner after scanning the bar code next to Mila's name on the registry book.

"Thanks," I said as we turned away. Right off the bat, I scanned random objects.

"How did you get roped into being the Maid of Honor?" John asked, trailing behind me, not even caring that I was registering them for completely random things.

"Because Mila's such bitch, she has no other friends, so here I am," I explained, trying not to sound too bitter.

"You really dislike your sister, don't you?"

"I don't 'dislike' her, I just...I don't know. We used to get along great when Dad...we just grew apart. At the same time we were dating, she was busy doing her own thing...and every other thing on the planet, but thing happen for a reason I guess."

"What's the reason for me marrying Mila?" John asked. I didn't have to turn around to tell that he was smirking; I could just hear it in his voice.

"Maybe the fact that you're both horny, and you don't really believe in pre-marital sex. It's just a license to fuck," I said, ending it with a sigh.

"Lu."

"What?" I asked, a bit of an edge to my voice.

"What happened to us?" he asked. I turned around to face him.

For the first time in a long time, I was seeing him for what he used to be. The same awkward, lanky teenager who I had been with for three years. I could hear his laugh, see his most genuine smile, and feel his lips on mine.

I cleared my throat, turning away from him, shaking the memories from my mind.

"You had the band, I had school. It wouldn't have worked out if we'd tried," I said, pushing a loose string of hair behind my ear.

"Before that though. Before we graduated, you changed."

"No, John, I grew up," I informed him, walking away from him further, scanner in hand.