You Drain The Life From Me.

"This song is called Daisy, I, uh, wrote it a while ago," Garrett mumbled into the microphone.

*AN: I know Alex wrote Daisy before he left, but, if you get the meaning of the song, it kind of fits in the storyline, so...

I sat at the merch table, barely paying attention to the show at all. I mouthed the words to the songs I knew. This one, I didn't know so well.

My phone buzzed with another text from Stephen, and my lips stretched into a smile.

He was texting me about the family reunion he was at.

Stephen: They only have Taco Bell. What kind of Mexican family reunion only has Taco Bell? What a rip off.

Before I could text back, a girl, the same girl that had called me a slut the week before, came up to the merch table.

"Can I have that one shirt in an extra small?"

I tried not to comment about how she probably wouldn't fit in an extra small, but I didn't want to upset her.

"Which one?" I asked with a forced smile.

"That black one."

"Which black one? There's two."

"That one."

I had no idea which one she was talking about and figured she was doing it just to piss me off, so I grabbed one of the black ones and set it on the table.

"No, I wanted that one."

I grabbed the other one and switched it with the other black shirt.

"Actually, you know what? I kinda want the white one instead."

I turned to look for the shirt and rolled my eyes. When I turned back around, she seemed to be studying me.

"Hey, you're that slut."

I looked at her incredulously. "Um. Sure. That shirt will be $20."

She reached into her bra and pulled out a damp twenty dollar bill. It took all I had to keep from gagging. I had heard stories from other merchies about sweaty bills but I had never received one.

I held it between the tips of my pointing finger and thumb and put it in the money box.

"Thanks."

She scoffed. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Without emotion or an expression on my face, I replied, "I don't have a boyfriend."

"That Mexican guy?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, so you were just a fuck and chuck for him?"

"No."

"Then where is he?"

"He's doing something with his family."

She looked at me like I was stupid. "He's probably fucking another chick right now."

"No, he's at a family reunion."

"Poor little merch girl. Doesn't wanna believe that yet another guy is cheating on her."

I slammed my palm against the table and shook my head. "Okay, little bitch. You know what? That is none of your business. You don't have a right to be talking or even thinking about my business. I don't know how the fuck you found out about that, and, quite frankly? I don't care. I really don't. But shut the fuck up. Cool story bro, you know my boyfriend cheated on me. How is that relevant to you and your life? Oh wait, it isn't. Now take your damn shirt, which by the way is too small for you, and get the fuck outta here."

"God, you're such a bitch!" she squealed. For a second, I thought she was gonna start crying. But instead, she took her shirt and walked towards the exit.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Twenty minutes later, I was at 8123, sitting in between Eric Halvorsen and Jared.

"Yeah, and he like, slammed into the curb and flipped over onto some person's front lawn. He ended up okay, though," Jared explained to Halvo and me. Halvo was completely fascinated by the story. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less.

"So he was on his bike?" Halvo asked.

Jared nodded in response.

"Did he break anything?"

"He tore up his arm pretty badly and dislocated his shoulder. He hit his head pretty hard so they think he's like super shaken up. They don't know yet though."

"Damn, I can't believe this happened on your street."

I just sipped my beer and looked on. I noticed Garrett was alone. No Rachael tonight? Hmm. I looked around, trying to find out who was doing what. It was pretty chilled out that night at 8123.

Lindsey, John's girlfriend, was here and was kind of busy with him, so I couldn't really chill with my older brother.

Pat was grounded and had to go straight home after the show, and Tim had to drive him home.

Obviously, Garrett was out of the question.

That only left Kenny, who was playing cornhole with Moose and LB on his team, and Garrett and Trey on the other.

I walked towards Kenny and he smiled. "There you are! Just the person we needed to complete the other team!"

My eyes went wide. The other team? Trey, I was fine with. Garrett? Not so much.

"Can I just be a cheerleader or something?" I pleaded.

"The game needs to be equal, bro."

I grumbled, but obliged. Who knows, maybe this could be fun.

I walked to the other side and stood next to Trey, who handed me a beanbag. "Kenny's loss, everyone knows you're amazing at cornhole."

I grinned. "Let's win this shit."

Trey flung his beanbag and made it straight into the hole on the other side. He flipped the other team off and we patiently waited for Kennedy to take his turn. I felt a tap on my shoulder and, thinking it was Trey, turned around to face him.

"Um, hi Leigh."

I rolled my eyes. "Hey, Garrett."

"How have you been lately?"

"Pretty peachy."

"That's good. Listen, can we go somewhere to like, talk?"

I shook my head.

"But it's about what happened."

"What happened is plain and simple--"

"Gare, it's your turn."

Trey was my momentary saviour.

"Hey, is Garrett giving you a hard time?" I shook my head and took a deep breath.

Garrett finished his (unsuccessful) turn quite quickly and came back so we could finish our conversation.

Scratching the back of his neck with that confused expression of his that I loved, he waited for me to continue what I was saying. Just to piss him off, I waited for him to actually say so.

"Um...what were you saying?" he asked, slightly annoyed. I smirked.

"I was saying, what happened is plain and simple. You were going out with me, then you entered a relationship with another girl, while still dating me. Isn't that what happened?"

"No. I mean, yes, but--"

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Leigh, there's more to it and if you would just let me explain what happened, then maybe--"

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe you could forgive me."

"Fat chance of that happening, Gare. I'm pretty cut up about what happened and there's no changing that."

"Can I try?"

If I let Garrett explain himself, then: possibility one would be that he would give me some bullshit explanation that I wouldn't believe and I'd go home and call Stephen about it.

Possibility two would be that he would give me an explanation that would cause me to fall head over heels for him once more and he would forget all about Rachael and I'd forget about Stephen and Garrett and I would get back together.

Possibility three would be that he would give me an explanation I would believe, and one that I'd accept, but we'd go our separate ways and become friends.

I knew that possibility two was so impossible and unreal that I immediately mentally crossed it off the list. That only left one and three, and I decided to go for number three.

I nodded and he smiled. "Thank you."

We walked over to the van, saying goodbye (and good luck) to Trey and the other team. I grabbed a whole six pack of beers on my way there, planning to drink all of them.

Garrett opened the back doors and we climbed inside, closing them and I immediately popped the top of one of the six cans of beers the minute my butt hit the van floor.

"Are you sure that you should be--"

"Yeah, go on with your story."

He shot a worried expression towards my beer, but continued anyway. "So, you know that I love you, right? I really, really love you. And honestly, you're nothing compared to Rachael. She's okay, I guess. But she's more boobs than brains."

As I chuckled, he grabbed a beer for himself and went on. "All she wants to do is make out all day and stay home. She never wants to do anything fun like comic book hunting or going to record stores or anything. Not like you. She just...she's not what I thought she was."

"And what did you think she was?"

"I thought she was good enough to be you. But no one can ever be as perfect as you are."

I ignored the compliment and motioned for him to keep going, grabbing another beer.

"But the reason I did it was because I mean, I thought I really liked her. Like you said, I liked her before we even went out. And I mean, I just...I went out with her because I was drunk and fucking stupid."

"Almost every single time I was with her, I was drunk because I couldn't handle not being with you, but I also wanted to be with her. Every time I kissed her, I wished it was you. She wanted to have sex so many times but each time I said no because I was wanted to have my first time with you. I know it sounds really stupid, my explanation. And it's not really even an explanation. But I do still love you and I hope you still love me."

"You're right, that was a crappy explanation."

He shrugged. "I really didn't have any reason to cheat other than I thought she was pretty."

"Have you broken up with her yet?"

"No," he said as he cringed.

I sighed. "So this whole thing was worthless. You haven't even broken up with her yet."

"Well, have you broken up with Stephen?"

"We aren't even going out."

"Bullshit!"

"We aren't. He never asked me to be his girlfriend or anything."

"So you're in that stage between friends with benefits and something more?"

"I never knew you could sound so gay, but yes."

"Which means..." He stopped talking and had this look on his face that showed he was thinking pretty damn hard about something.

Before I could ask, he mumbled, "Oh, fuck it."

I was about to say something but stopped when his lips touched mine. To be completely honest, I had missed these lips terribly. I had missed Garrett terribly.

So I kissed back. Eventually, his tongue was tangled in mine and he fell backwards onto the van floor. I shifted around so that I was straddling him and he pulled on the bottom of my tank top, signaling for me to take it off. I did, and just as he reached for the button of my jeans, I stopped him.

"Not here."

He sighed and I pulled my shirt back on and did my best to fix my hair. We sat back up and he kissed me one more time. "My house. No one's home."

I smiled and drank the last can of beer. He opened one of the the doors and stumbled out, and I followed suit, praying no one would notice. And no one did. They were all playing cornhole or beer pong. They were all so drunk that no one bothered to look at who was coming out of the van.

Garrett and I jogged over to Trey's car and he got in the driver's seat, since he was considerably less drunk than I was.