Seventeen and Invincible

I slid into my seat on the plane, an apprehensive smile playing on my lips. I had this image that everything would be the same when I got home. I had this entire script; this scene written and perfectly dialogued in my head. It would go one of two ways: perfectly or terribly.

My seat wasn't next to the window. Not being able to see out the window would make me incredibly claustrophobic. I didn't handle the feeling of being enclosed well--unless of course it was in Garrett's embrace.

Settling into my seat, I pushed my head back against the headrest. I wasn't exactly a huge fan of planes. I didn't enjoy eighteen hour flights--especially when it involved crossing the Atlantic Ocean. I tried to distract myself with the perfect scene playing out in my head. I would walk off the plane and Garrett would be standing there waiting for me to run into his arms. He would hold me and tell me how much he had missed me. We had promised to keep in touch, but sometimes I swore the emails didn’t sound like anything he’d write. Sometimes it didn’t sound like me responding. Sometimes I had just let myself be dragged away from my laptop by Jackson.

I closed my eyes, hoping that we hadn’t really changed. I prayed that anything that went wrong could be fixed and this relationship or friendship, or whatever it was could be salvaged.

“First trip to the states?” I was yanked out of my thoughts by the voice of an elderly man to my left. I shook my head ‘no,’ slowly opening my eyes. His accent was clearly German, but his English was good enough.

“No, I’m going home,” I smiled. I shifted in my seat, glancing over at the man. “I was living here with my parents, but I’m going home.”

“There’s someone special waiting I take it?” I smiled a little and let a small laugh escape the line my lips had been pressed into.

“Something like that…he’s my best friend.” My smile fell when I realized that the scenario I had dreamt up could never play out. Garrett didn’t even know that I was coming back. He thought I’d be back in December, but it was the middle of August.

“Sounds like a lot more,” the man suggested. I shrugged and nodded.

“I get that a lot.” I picked at my nails and pushed my hair behind my ear. No one knew I was coming back yet, and that scared me more than anything. I mean, I had mentioned that it was possible, but only to Mia. There was no chance that Garrett would be waiting for me. There was no chance that he’d have a bouquet of flowers in his hands, and no chance that he’d scoop me up in his arms and cradle me like he had so many times before.

Things had changed after I left. I knew that much. I knew Garrett didn’t live with his parents anymore. I was aware of the fact that he’d moved into a two bedroom apartment—the second bedroom reserved for yours truly. I knew that everything was going amazing for the band and I knew that Mia and John were officially off.

I was afraid to go back. I knew exactly what I had in Munich and exactly what I used to have in Tempe. I didn’t know what I still had. We both left and that was irrevocable. We couldn’t change things that had happened in the last eight months. And when you’re seventeen, eight months is a long time. People change. Places change. You change.

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I slept for the first eight hours of the flight. For the entire time I managed to sleep, I was haunted by every possible outcome. I was plagued with the possible scenarios that could play out when I got back. I should have told someone—that much I was painstakingly aware of. I wasn’t even sure if the guys would be back from tour yet.

When the plane landed, I couldn’t wait to get out and back into Phoenix. But there was one humongous problem. I had nowhere to go. No one knew I was here. I had no family here, and I didn’t have a cell phone. What was I thinking?