Seventeen and Invincible

“Shh,” he whispered into my ear. “Shh, sweetie, shh.” He cradled my head to his chest trying to calm me down again. “What’s wrong, Ani?” he pleaded. I shook my head, choking on tears and gasping for air. “Calm down, please. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t,” I choked out. “It won’t matter anyway.” I released the fistfuls of his shirt that I’d been holding. “Just, please, don’t let me go, Garrett.” He nodded and kissed the top of my head—no awkward slip ups this time.

“Whatever,” he sighed, “whatever it is that’s bothering you, Ani, it can’t be that bad.” He stopped to kiss the top of my head again. “Whatever it is will get better, I promise, Ani. I promise, whatever it is will be okay.” I shook my head. Nothing would be okay when I was forced to live in a new country far away from the only person who kept me stable. “It’ll be alright, Ani. It’ll be okay.”

“It won’t be okay, Gar. It’ll just get worse and worse until I can’t take it anymore. Garrett, she’s going to make me crazy. They’re going to drive me insane. Garrett, I can’t take it anymore; I can’t deal with it. They’re killing me,” I sobbed into his chest. “This is all killing me.” He sat up, pulling me into his lap and rocking me back and forth.

“You’ve gotta tune them out, Ani. You can’t let them do this. You can’t let them get to you. If you just ignore it all, it’ll get better. I promise.” I shook my head because he just didn’t understand and I just couldn’t say it when I was with him. It would disturb the balance. If I told him I was leaving things would change, and I wanted to remember them exactly how they were.

“I can’t Garrett! I can’t,” I whispered. “It’s too hard. I need to get out.” I ran my fingers through my messy hair and then buried my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. “I need to get out,” I whispered against his skin.

I fought it. I fought the urge to kiss him. I fought the urge to start making out with him. I fought off every hormone in my teenage body.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong,” he said simply. “Tell me what exactly is going on. The bits and pieces aren’t making much sense.” I shrugged and shook my head at the same time.

“You know what it is, Garrett. It’s my parents, like it’s always been.” I sighed and wiped my eyes. “They’re making me crazy. They’re pushing me to my limit. I can’t do it anymore. They make it so hard to breathe.” I inhaled sharply and tried to keep myself from bursting into tears again.

“What are they doing? What’s different this time?” he whispered, soothing me like he always did. I shook my head, because I just couldn’t put it into words. I couldn’t find the words to describe what it felt like to have them dragging me away from my best friend; dragging me from my home.

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“Come on,” he laughed, pushing me gently ahead of him. “Cheer up, you’ll have fun.” It was Friday night and somehow I got tricked into going to a party with Garrett. I’d prefer to stay at home and do homework. I wasn’t big on the whole party thing. I hated the crowds and alcohol and I didn’t mix well.

“Gar,” I sighed loudly. He gave me that look that said I had no choice in the matter—I was going whether I liked it or not. “Garrett, I hate parties.” He rolled his eyes and opened the door of whoever’s house it was.

“Look,” he said gently, “if you want to we can leave. Let’s just find the guys and Mia and you can decide, okay?” I nodded reluctantly because I knew we were bound to have a repeat of the night he ditched me to make out with Nicolette. “Come on, Kenny said they’re in the kitchen. Let’s find the kitchen.” I trailed behind quietly. I had two choices: be miserable and sober, or be miserable and wasted. My conscience was telling me to stay sober, but everything else told me to get wasted, and that’s what I’d do.

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I wasn’t surprised when a half hour in, Garrett was nowhere to be found. It didn’t surprise me when I found him in the corner making out with some girl who had brown hair and an obnoxious amount of blonde highlights. It also didn’t shock me in the slightest when the tears pooled in the corners of my eyes and I had to fight them back.

“Anika.” John’s voice was soft and understanding. He stood behind me with Mia next to him, her hand in his. Mia nodded, an indication that John knew everything I’d told her the other day, and for once, I was thankful she was a bit of a big mouth.

“I wanna go home,” my voice cracked. He nodded, fishing his keys from his pants pocket and motioning for me to follow him and Mia outside. I felt them both reach out to take me by the hands when I looked back at Garrett and the girl with the highlights. Did he always stop them at making out? Or was that just me?

“Ann,” Mia whispered, “Honey, come on.” I nodded and followed through the swarms of people and out the front door. I’d only had one drink at the party, but my head was more clouded than it had ever been. “Honey, it’s okay, come on.”

“I…” my voice broke off and I slid carelessly into the backseat of John’s car, leaning my head against the window.

“You love him, there isn’t anything to be ashamed of, Anika,” Mia replied softly. I shook my head—she was wrong. Loving him was so horrible.

“It’s not okay, Mia. I’m not supposed to love my best friend. And I don’t love him. I’m—I’m just mixed up.” She looked back at me sorrowfully. “He couldn’t care less, could he?”

“That, I can answer for. And the answer is no,” John said quickly, looking at me quickly through the rearview mirror. “That kid would probably walk on fire for you. I’m not lying.” I shook my head. Garrett didn’t care as much as I’d thought he had, and I was a fool for thinking that maybe he did—or could.

“He doesn’t care, John. Don’t you get it? I’m not good enough. I’m not smart enough. I’m not pretty enough. I’m not skinny enough. My hair isn’t processed enough for him to love me. I don’t have whatever appeal those girls have. I’m nothing.” I chipped the polish off of my nails.

“That’s a load of crap and you know it Anika,” Mia replied sternly. “You know that you’re too good for Nickelsen. You know that you’re a fucking genius and that you could probably win Miss. America, because you’re that thin, and that gorgeous. We all know that he wouldn’t want your hair any other color, because he adores the fact that it’s almost the same as his. He adores everything about you, Anika, and the sooner you both realize that, the better.” I continued to chip the polish off until my legs were covered in white flakes of polish and there was nothing left on my nails.

“How can I realize it if it isn’t true?” My voice was threatening to crack. “He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t adore anything about me. I’m just not good enough and all he does is push me away and screw everything up!” I choked and succeeded in fighting back the sob. I had no right to cry in front of Mia. She had just gone through the most fucked up thing in her life and I was upset because Garrett pushed me away and wouldn’t have sex with me. She had just lost a child and I was acting like a whiny, bratty three year old over nothing in comparison.

“You can cry,” she whispered, clearly watching the fight I was having with myself. She chuckled, “It’d be nice to hear sobbing from someone who isn’t me.” I smiled a little and felt the tears slide down my cheek even if against my own will.

My phone started buzzing in my pocket and I couldn’t answer it so I handed it off to Mia. “Hello?” she asked, accepting the call. “She’s with me,” she paused for his response. “In John’s car, on the way to her house…Because she was crying, Garrett…I don’t fucking know. Why don’t you grow a pair and just ask her yourself?” She rolled her eyes annoyed and looked away. “That’s up to you. That’s between the two of you. You could ask her…Or, fine. Do whatever you want Nickelsen.” She sighed exasperatedly and hung up the phone.

“What’d he want?” I whispered, my body shaking slightly with repressed sobs.

“To know if you were okay.”

“He cares,” John stated quickly. “Even if that boy has a fucked up little way of showing it, and even if he does every stupid thing he can think of, he cares. He does, Ana, more than you’d think—more than you can see.” I rolled my eyes. That was what Evan had said.

And if it came from the lips of both John O’Callaghan and Evan Meyer, something was truly fucked up.