Seventeen and Invincible

Of course, the minute Garrett climbed through my window everything was fine again, because I didn’t know how to not forgive him. I melted and caved and forgave him for everything the second his hands wound around my waist. It was like he knew just how to hold me; to trick me into thinking it was all okay.

“What’d I do wrong?” he’d ask pathetically, and I’d have no way to answer him, because he hadn’t done anything wrong, because we weren’t together.

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Time had managed to fly by, leaving us at the beginning of November, two days after the last Halloween of high school. Trust me, Halloween had been filled with many drunken, stupid acts and antics.

It was November second and somewhere along the line, I’d managed to contract the flu. I had made it through Halloween unhappily—tired, sick and just plain bored.

It was November and apparently it was impossible for Molly to believe I had the flu. She figured that just because she’d been a whore in high school, I must be too—or something like that. Molly insisted that I couldn’t be sick, that I had to be “knocked up with that idiot band boy’s kid.” The idea received several eye rolls and was ignored and silenced when she forced me to take a pregnancy test—one that would inevitably read negative. Apparently ‘virgin’ wasn’t a word she’d learned the translation of.

The high point of my being sick and Molly making ridiculous speculations was the realization that my dear best friend had apparently not paid too much attention in health class.

“Hey,” he walked into my room, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “You’re missing school, ‘cause you’re actually sick—now that’s impressive,” he joked.

“And you used the door instead of the window. That, my friend, is impressive.” He smiled and chuckled, reaching over to push some of my hair out of my face and feel my forehead to see if I still had a fever.

“Yeah, so, in using the door, I spoke to Molly,” he trailed off. I rolled my eyes, waiting for him to continue. “She seems to be pretty set on the idea that you’re pregnant,” he said quietly and shakily. I smiled and let a small laugh slip past my lips. “You aren’t, right?”

“Gar, hon, we haven’t done anything. We made out, fully clothed, and that’s as far as it went. It would pretty much be a miracle if I were pregnant. No, I’m not.” I laughed as relief flashed across his features. In a way, it would be a relief to be pregnant, because then Molly would let me stay, but trapping anyone like that wouldn’t be right.

He sighed and brushed my hair out of my face again. “What about anyone else?”

“Garrett,” I laughed, “I promise you, I haven’t done anything. I’m not pregnant.”

“You know,” he started, stopping to gather his thoughts. “You know that if you were, I’d be there for you, right? Whether it was mine or not.” I smiled.

“I know,” I nodded. “But, if it ever comes to anything like that, it’ll be a long time from now.” He smiled and moved from where he was sitting to lay next to me. I rolled my eyes at him, and despite feeling feverish, and despite it feeling like it was a thousand degrees, I let him wrap his arms around me.

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Somehow it became December. Somehow the few months between Garrett coming home from tour and him graduating had melded together to move faster. Somehow time was running out and I still hadn’t told him that I would be halfway across the world when he came home from tour.

Somehow Thanksgiving had come and gone, having celebrated with Garrett’s family. Somehow everything had rushed past, leaving me sitting in my room on Christmas Eve, trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do.

I ran my fingers through my now-oily hair. I bit my nails and picked at scabs. I threw things and I cried. I had less than a month left here; I had less than two weeks with Garrett before he left—I had nine days.

“Hey,” he called, knocking on my bedroom door. “Ani?” I stepped out of my bathroom and waved.

“Over here, Gar. Just give me five minutes. I’m running a little behind.” He nodded, and sat down on my bed, stretching out and making himself comfortable. “Can you get me my hair straightener? There’s one part of my hair that I want to go over.”

Christmas Eve was when all of us celebrated the holiday together. We dressed nicely, went out to eat, trimmed a tree in Pat’s basement, and exchanged gifts. “Here,” he mumbled, plugging the flat iron into the bathroom outlet. I smiled a ‘thanks’ and finished my make-up. “It’s gonna be so weird to be gone,” he laughed. He stepped behind me, resting his head on top of mine.

“It’ll be really weird.” I looked up into the mirror, admiring how perfect we looked together. Me in my dress, my hair neat and my bangs clipped off to the side, and him, with his hair in perfect disarray, his sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, and his tie perfectly centered. “What’ll I do without you?” I laughed, though it wasn’t actually funny. I really didn’t know what I’d do without him. What would I do when I got to Germany? It wouldn’t ever be home. It wouldn’t have my best friend; my Garrett.

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This is how it worked: we all did a secret Santa; Garrett and I exchanged gifts on our own the next morning. This year, that wasn’t happening. Molly wouldn’t give me the money and I’d had to cut back on my hours at work. This year all I was getting was a handful of good-byes, and the new Jodi Picoult book that I’d wanted—from Mia, of course.

This Christmas was going to be the last time I’d be happy, so it seemed. Next Christmas would be horrible. It would be absolutely terrible.

“Something wrong?” Garrett asked, nudging me, a smile plastered on his face. I shook my head and faked a smile, John and Mia’s eyes burning holes through my head. They knew I should tell him; I knew I should tell him, but I couldn’t. “You’re lying,” he whispered.

“Am not,” I retorted. He rolled his eyes in disbelief and sighed.

“What time do you have to be home? It’s already midnight.” I shrugged, there wasn’t really a curfew or anything.

“I don’t know. Probably soon.”

“Alright, you wanna go now? This is getting pretty snooze-festy. Everyone is starting to fall asleep,” he laughed. I nodded and followed him out of the basement and through the Kirch’s kitchen.

“Can I get coffee?” I asked as I stepped outside. He shrugged his shoulders and opened the passenger side door for me to get in the car. “Thanks,” I whispered.

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Christmas morning in my house was boring. It was one of the few occasions, however, for which Greg made sure he was home. It was around eleven when there was a knock on the door. I rolled my eyes, opening the heavy, creaky wooden door.

“Merry Christmas Anika. Good Morning, happy holidays Mr. and Mrs. Albert,” Garrett called walking into my parents’ house. I rolled my eyes and stepped aside to let him in.

”Hey Gar, what’s in the box?” I asked with a small laugh.
He blushed a little and smirked. “Your Christmas present,” he smiled triumphantly.

“But I didn’t get you anything. We agreed on not exchanging gifts. Garrett, I can’t accept a gift if I can’t afford to give you one in return.” He sighed and shoved the box into my hands. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Just take it,” he begged. I ignored him, turning to walk up the staircase. He followed closely behind like a lost puppy. ”Just take the damn gift Ani,” he sighed.

“I have nothing for you. It isn’t right. I refuse to open it on principle.” I remained sure of my decision and he sighed loudly again. I wouldn’t take it. It wasn’t right.

“Then just think that Santa Claus brought it here. It isn’t from me; it’s from some fat guy with a long white beard.” I laughed and shook my head. “Why can’t you just accept the damn gift?” he asked frustrated. “Look, I wanted to get you something. I’m leaving on tour right after New Years and I’m gonna miss you. Just take it.” When I continued to refuse he unwrapped the box on his own and made me close my eyes.

“Why? Why can’t you just accept that I don’t want to accept the gift?” I yelled. When I opened my eyes he looked upset. I had yelled at him for something entirely out of his control. I was upset that he was leaving. I was upset that I was leaving. I shouldn’t take it out on him. It wasn’t his fault. I’d just had such a hard time trying to bring up the topic. I should’ve brought it up a year ago.

“You’ll just never fucking get it, will you?” he replied, clearly a little perturbed.

“What am I supposed to get? You’re my best friend. What more is there to get? You’re a little bit pushy and you try to over compensate for not being here all the time. You don’t have to Garrett. You’re the only person I trust completely and I love you just the same whether you’re here or across the country.” It was a lie. I needed him here. I was the one who didn’t get it. I didn’t get him.

“You’re so fucking stupid sometimes Anika! You just don’t get it!”

“If I don’t fucking get it then just tell me! Alright? Stop fighting; you know I hate fighting.” I inhaled and tried to steady my breathing because I didn’t want to cry.

“It doesn’t fucking matter anymore. What the fuck is your problem lately?”

“You’re my problem Garrett. Every time we try to talk, this happens. We fight and scream and yell until we just can’t anymore. I’ve been trying to tell you the same damn thing for the last six months and you haven’t paid attention for more than five seconds at a time. You’re always trying to make up for leaving me when you go on tour, because you know how hard it is to live with my parents. You don’t listen to me!” I screamed. I wanted him to know that I was being ripped apart from the inside out. My heart didn’t even exist anymore—it had been turned to mush long before.

“Well then what the fuck is it that you’ve been trying to say? Because I’ve just been trying to be a good friend,” he yelled. I sighed inwardly, digging my nails into my palms. He was a good friend. I shouldn’t be mad at him.

“I’ve been trying to tell you that I’m leaving. Molly wants to go back to Germany. We’re leaving in January. When you leave this time it’s really goodbye,” I said softer, forcing the words out, because it was too late and I had no choice now.

“Ani, I’m sorry,” he mumbled trying to hug me. Something snapped and I pushed him away.

“Fuck you Garrett. Just go the fuck away from me!” He took a step back with his hands up in the air. I didn’t know what I wanted now. This isn’t how Garrett and I were supposed to be.
“I hope you like your fucking gift.” He walked down the stairs and out the door. I watched from my window as he unlocked the door to his yellow car, looked up at my window, and then climbed in and drove away.

I let the tears and sobs out now. I opened the now unwrapped box, and pulled out a bracelet that had one of those best-friends charms that you break into two. I smiled grimly, slipping it on. The bracelet itself looked like it had been made by him. It was braided and the charm was perfectly centered. I wouldn’t take that bracelet off—ever.
In the box there was a note that I just couldn’t bring myself to read, and there was his favorite guitar pick.

I felt low. I felt lower than low. I’d yelled at him, I’d pushed him away. I’d destroyed everything.
Now, Munich actually sounded amazing.