What Makes It Wrong for Us to Fall in Love?

I tapped my foot anxiously as I waited for the door to open.

"What the fuck is taking so long," I muttered, ringing the doorbell again.

The door made a crack.

I was right. John did answer the door.

He gave me a short glare, which soon faded into eyes that pleaded me to give him a hug. He undid the chain on the door then wrapped his arms around me tightly.

"John, I am so sorry." I mumbled into his chest.

"No, no. Don't be sorry. Shit. Seriously, don't be sorry." He pulled back and closed the door, then led me to their kitchen. "Coffee?"

I gulped. "Wh.. What?"

"Do you want some coffee?"

"Uhm. What?" I sat down on one of the chairs.

"Do you or do you not want coffee?" He held a mug in one hand and the coffee pot from the coffee maker in the other.

"I do!" I snapped confusedly.

I just got here, apologized, and then he's offering me coffee..?

"Okay." He poured the black coffee into the cup and slid it across the table towards me. He flashed me a clumsy smile. "I'm sorry, do you want milk with that?"

I shook my head. "No. Uhm.. It's fine."

"It's still warm though." He pulled a chair out and sat right beside me. "I don't have any iced coffee, sorry."

I took the cup into my hands and took a sip. "What about iced coffee?"

"I don't know. Stephen always brought you iced coffee; says helps you stop crying." He shrugged.

I almost dropped my cup but managed to keep it held. "Do I look like I'm crying?"

"Not really." He let out another laugh. His laugh was quiet. If I could even call it a laugh. "But," He continued. "Maybe it'll help as to not make you cry."

"What do you mean?" I scratched the back of my head.

"We have to talk. And that won't happen if you cry."

I pushed the cup towards him and got up.

"See, if now, you're leaving, how will we ever solve this problem?" He grabbed my wrist. "Please, Jess."

I sighed, realizing that I almost forgot why I even went over there in the first place, why I even left Kennedy.

"Sit down." He commanded.

"Okay.." I sat back down. "But I can't promise you that that coffee will do anything if I wanna cry." I said, glancing at the cup of coffee.

"Okay." He made me look at him. "You know how much Stephen loves you, right?"

"No." I answered, sounding stubborn, but I wanted to sound honest because I completely had no idea.

He heaved a sigh. "God, he loves the hell out of you and you don't even know."

I bent over and buried my head in my arms. "Keep talking."

"He's miserable, Jess. You should know that. You're his best friend."

"I'm a terrible best friend, I get it."

"Okay. Maybe you are. But he loves you. He loves every fucking thing about you. How you can't stand it when me and Josh are messing around, how you sing our songs more off key than Brian, how you're always moody when you're on your period--"

"Ugh, John--" I grunted.

"Jess, you know what his problem was? That everyday problem when you're in love with your best friend and you're afraid of telling her because you're afraid of ruining your friendship. That's his problem, Jess. And if you think he was jealous and that's why he's so fucking mad at Kennedy, it's not that. It's because after high school, shit man, you fucking wanted to end your life."

I grunted again. I hated being reminded how foolish I was.

"And don't you ever forget that it was Stephen who stopped you."

I looked up, surprised that I wasn't crying yet.

It was true. Kennedy and me breaking up totally destroyed me. I was a mess. That night before Stephen slapped me to reality and said Kennedy wasn't worth it, I tried to kill myself. That usual blade thing to the wrist. Apparently, I wasn't answering any of Stephen's calls and he got to the conclusion that I could've been hurting myself or some shit like that. Of course, I locked myself in the bathroom and almost cut all the way when Stephen burst the fucking door open and slapped the blade away from my hand held me in his arms.

Six weeks was the longest Kennedy and I were together without fighting. The past six weeks.

"Jess, Stephen needs you."

"He didn't seem to need me the past six weeks."

"He was trying to sort his feelings out. Shit, Jess. And he just took advantage of the fact that you hurt me to try to take some time off from you."

"I'm sorry I hurt you--"

"I don't care about that anymore, Jess. I love my brother, I know you love your best friend, so please. Just try to get your shit together. He's dying." John cut me off, his voice was shaking. "He misses you."