Seventeen and Invincible

“Truth or dare?” John asked me mischievously. We had spent the entire day at the lake, and it was now well past dark. How we’d ended up in the middle of a game of truth or dare, I still had no idea. In actuality I think it may have been John and Mia scheming to try and prove that Garrett and I were potentially more than friends. Thus far they had failed, and they would continue to fail, because we were, as I’ve said, just friends.

“Dare,” I replied with trepidation. He glanced at Mia quickly and smirked. I was officially afraid.

“I dare you,” he paused for effect, making me roll my eyes impatiently. We all knew it was bound to be something stupid—we may as well just get it over with, right? “I dare you to make out with Garrett. Back at the car. Alone. For ten minutes. And you have to mean it.” My eyes were wide and my mind was racing. And what did he mean by mean it?

“What?” I laughed. “Are you kidding?” He shook his head, Mia smirked and I rolled my eyes. “No. It’s weird. He’s my best friend.”

“Exactly,” he pointed out. “He’s your best friend, so it should be totally comfortable. Unless,” he laughed, “unless of course there are feelings involved. Then things could get a little messy.”

“Fine,” I huffed, standing up. “Come on, Garrett.” He stood and we walked toward the car, heads down, save for the glances each of us threw over our shoulders at our so-called friends. “How long did he say?” I asked as the two of us climbed uncomfortably into the back seat of the yellow car.

“Ten minutes,” he sighed. The awkwardness was obscene. The tension was absurd.

His lips were on mine slowly, softly at first. They were gentle and calm and soothing and everything I’d ever expected—only it was awkward, so we deepened it to drown the awkwardness before it took over.

I was breathless. I was infatuated. I was a hormonal sixteen and a half year old girl. I was so uncomfortable, but more comfortable than I’d ever been in my life.

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Ten minutes passed. Twenty minutes passed. A whole fucking hour had passed before Mia and John showed up laughing and pounding on the windows of the car.

Garrett rolled off of me and onto the floor of the car. Our hair was, to put it nicely, utterly atrocious. Our clothes were rumpled and wrinkled. Our cheeks were flushed from what we’d spent a better portion of the last hour doing and from total embarrassment. We were out of breath.

The awkwardness decided to sneak in again sometime between him rolling away and the car door opening. It decided to sneak in and nest itself in our, or at least my, insecurities.

“So,” John laughed, “you two been having fun?” I rolled my eyes and climbed out of the car, smoothing my hair and straightening my shorts and t-shirt.

“Shut up,” Garrett said quickly, walking back toward the dock.

“What crawled up his ass and died?” John smiled. I smacked him in the head and followed in the direction Garrett had taken off in. “What?” he yelled, his hands in the air. “Jesus!”

“Garrett!” I called after him. “Come on, he was just joking. It’s John. He’s about as mature as a six year old. He doesn’t know any better!”

“Why are you always defending everyone?” he yelled. “You defend Mia, John, Molly, Greg. You defend everyone but me. Never have I heard you defend me.” He turned to face me, clearly not in a good mood. I took a step backwards. “Why?”

“You’ve never needed to be defended. You…”

“Bullshit!” he cut me off. “What about all of the shit Molly says about me? I can’t understand it, but I know she says it.” I inhaled deeply, trying to steady myself.

“I’m sorry,” I began, “if when Molly is saying that I’m your whore, I’m too busy defending myself. And honestly, by defending myself, I am defending you. And you know what, Garrett? Everyone loves you. You don’t need to be defended. Everything you’ve ever done has just been accepted.” I sighed. He was angry and I didn’t even know what to say. I had never seen him angry—at least not at me.

“Not everyone loves me. You sure as hell don’t. You don’t care. You’re my best friend and you’ve never defended me to your idiot mother or alcoholic father. They think I’m some kind of man whore or something. I have to sneak in through your fucking window.”

“You aren’t making any sense Garrett! Why would you know if I’ve ever defended you? It wouldn’t make much sense to defend you to you.”

“Why are you yelling?” Mia interrupted. “Stop yelling, and stop fighting.” She was shaking. “Just, please, no. Ana, Gar, guys just stop fighting, I’m sorry, okay? It’s our fault you’re fighting. We should’ve just left well enough alone, but stop.” Her eyes were glassy and she was whispering. “Now can we please leave? It’s dark and cold and I think it’s starting to rain.” Garrett nodded and pulled his keys out of his pocket.

“Let’s just get the stuff from the dock.” He motioned to where the lanterns and the quilt were and we all walked over to gather the stuff we’d left behind.

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We dropped John and Mia off at the diner where John had left his car. That left Garrett and I alone in his car. That left the tension as thick as hardened crazy glue. We didn’t speak. We didn’t hum along with the music. We didn’t laugh. We didn’t hold hands. We didn’t even acknowledge one another.

The radio hummed softly. The volume wasn’t high, it was actually low. It just played along as a calm background.

“Thanks,” I whispered as he pulled up in front of my house. He nodded, not even bothering to put the car into park. “Are you gonna come in?” He stared straight ahead and out the windshield.

“No,” he answered simply. I nodded.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Good night.” He just nodded and drove off as soon as I closed the door. He sped down my block and he was gone before I’d even had a chance to open my front door. Were we actually fighting?

--------------------♥--------------------

“Hey, Gar, it’s me,” I whispered to his voicemail. “I guess you still aren’t talking to me, so, okay. I’ll try again later, maybe.” I sighed and hung up. It was four in the morning and I couldn’t sleep. I had been awake for twenty-two hours and my mind was mush. I couldn’t sleep.

I pushed my quilt off and picked up my denim shorts from the floor. I slipped into them and pulled my hair up and into a pony tail. I quickly tied the laces of my converse, grabbed a sweatshirt and climbed out my window.

I had walked about three blocks in the direction of Garrett’s house when a car slowed down, made a u-turn and pulled up along side me. “Get in,” he whispered. I smiled and obliged. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Nope.” Garrett glanced at me and then back at the road.

“Me neither.” I smiled and relaxed in my seat.