When the Lights Go Dim
I've Made up My Mind
Garrett spent his whole life leaving.
His parents had jobs that required them to move constantly, so he'd never been in one place for too long. Texas, New Mexico, California, Michigan, Ohio, Virginia, Florida, Arizona--he'd lived in all of those states by the time he was fourteen, most more than once. Leaving--people, things, places--it became a regular part of his life, a habit that wouldn't leave him.
When his parents finally settled in Arizona, it was hard to adjust. Staying in one place was different, a kind of different that Garrett didn't like at all. Three months after arriving, he was itching to go, to shift his life to some other state for a while before it was time to move on. The opportunity never came up again though, and he had to learn to adjust. Begrudgingly, he'd made friends. It had taken a while, as he was always waiting for the day to come when his parents uprooted him again, but they broke his walls down.
Eventually, some of them started a band. It was nothing big at first, but then people started getting wind of it. Suddenly, there were hundreds of local kids packed into places coming to see them play, singing the words to every song with ease. Someone brought up the idea of touring, and Garrett jumped right on it. It was a chance to move around again, to see things besides Arizona and to start up his routine of leaving once again.
So they went on tour. Garrett picked up girls every few dates, promising to keep in touch but then forgetting them once they were back on the road. They were usually boring, and they often escaped his mind until they were just distant memories. It was something he was used to--leaving and moving on--but suddenly, he didn't want that anymore. He wanted someone that would make him stay, someone that would root him in one place and make him never want to leave again.
Then came Providence.
There was a girl, one that had half her head shaved and wore bright red Keds. Nothing that special, and certainly not something that would catch Garrett's eye. But she did that night, and her face was still in his mind the day after she left. He figured he wouldn't call, wouldn't bother with her as they were leaving soon. But then he was reaching for his phone the next day, dialing her number and asking if she'd come to the beach. They had an extra day in the city until they drove back home, and he didn't feel like hanging out with his bandmates anymore.
They'd spent the day chasing each other in the sand, singing back and forth, and collapsing to the ground in laughter. It was new, something different from his usual routine--and surprisingly, he liked it. They parted that night with slightly sad looks, him promising to call and her smiling like she knew better--she probably did, Garrett had reasoned. There was no reason for him to believe that he would remember her--he'd forget her just like all the others, even with her strange hair and bright shoes. And he did--it took him the whole ride back to Arizona, but he had pushed the girl with the red Keds to the back of his mind by the time they returned.
Then he was staring at his phone a week later, his fingers itching as the others in the van chattered about going to the beach. His ears struggled to catch the conversation, but he managed to piece together that they wanted some sun, and they hadn't been to the beach in a while because of touring. Then there were some comments about how New England had been so dreary and filled with pale people.
I miss it, he wanted to say, but instead, he just stared longingly at his phone. When he glanced up again, the others were climbing out of the van. They were at the sea.
He was one of the last ones to emerge from the vehicle, but he took his time in following the others. Garrett walked slowly along the sand, drinking in the salty air. His lungs ached for the smell of the Atlantic, for the smell of Providence...for the smell of her. The girl with the half shaved head that he couldn't forget, no matter how hard he tried.
And for the first time, Garrett realized he wanted to stay somewhere. A smile twitched at his lips, and without hesitation, he dialed the most recently added number.
"Hey," he breathed into the phone, a smile on his face. "I'm driving up tomorrow."
His parents had jobs that required them to move constantly, so he'd never been in one place for too long. Texas, New Mexico, California, Michigan, Ohio, Virginia, Florida, Arizona--he'd lived in all of those states by the time he was fourteen, most more than once. Leaving--people, things, places--it became a regular part of his life, a habit that wouldn't leave him.
When his parents finally settled in Arizona, it was hard to adjust. Staying in one place was different, a kind of different that Garrett didn't like at all. Three months after arriving, he was itching to go, to shift his life to some other state for a while before it was time to move on. The opportunity never came up again though, and he had to learn to adjust. Begrudgingly, he'd made friends. It had taken a while, as he was always waiting for the day to come when his parents uprooted him again, but they broke his walls down.
Eventually, some of them started a band. It was nothing big at first, but then people started getting wind of it. Suddenly, there were hundreds of local kids packed into places coming to see them play, singing the words to every song with ease. Someone brought up the idea of touring, and Garrett jumped right on it. It was a chance to move around again, to see things besides Arizona and to start up his routine of leaving once again.
So they went on tour. Garrett picked up girls every few dates, promising to keep in touch but then forgetting them once they were back on the road. They were usually boring, and they often escaped his mind until they were just distant memories. It was something he was used to--leaving and moving on--but suddenly, he didn't want that anymore. He wanted someone that would make him stay, someone that would root him in one place and make him never want to leave again.
Then came Providence.
There was a girl, one that had half her head shaved and wore bright red Keds. Nothing that special, and certainly not something that would catch Garrett's eye. But she did that night, and her face was still in his mind the day after she left. He figured he wouldn't call, wouldn't bother with her as they were leaving soon. But then he was reaching for his phone the next day, dialing her number and asking if she'd come to the beach. They had an extra day in the city until they drove back home, and he didn't feel like hanging out with his bandmates anymore.
They'd spent the day chasing each other in the sand, singing back and forth, and collapsing to the ground in laughter. It was new, something different from his usual routine--and surprisingly, he liked it. They parted that night with slightly sad looks, him promising to call and her smiling like she knew better--she probably did, Garrett had reasoned. There was no reason for him to believe that he would remember her--he'd forget her just like all the others, even with her strange hair and bright shoes. And he did--it took him the whole ride back to Arizona, but he had pushed the girl with the red Keds to the back of his mind by the time they returned.
Then he was staring at his phone a week later, his fingers itching as the others in the van chattered about going to the beach. His ears struggled to catch the conversation, but he managed to piece together that they wanted some sun, and they hadn't been to the beach in a while because of touring. Then there were some comments about how New England had been so dreary and filled with pale people.
I miss it, he wanted to say, but instead, he just stared longingly at his phone. When he glanced up again, the others were climbing out of the van. They were at the sea.
He was one of the last ones to emerge from the vehicle, but he took his time in following the others. Garrett walked slowly along the sand, drinking in the salty air. His lungs ached for the smell of the Atlantic, for the smell of Providence...for the smell of her. The girl with the half shaved head that he couldn't forget, no matter how hard he tried.
And for the first time, Garrett realized he wanted to stay somewhere. A smile twitched at his lips, and without hesitation, he dialed the most recently added number.
"Hey," he breathed into the phone, a smile on his face. "I'm driving up tomorrow."