What Makes It Wrong for Us to Fall in Love?

"So what's the plan for today, guys?" Kennedy rubbed his palms together as he awaited an answer. "And what happened to Garrett's foot?"

"Long story." Jawn tiredly answered.

"Try me."

"We played Frisbee and he hurt himself."

Kennedy looked up from his watch. "Two seconds. That was a very long story, John O'."

Jawn rolled his eyes.

"Are you okay though?" Kennedy asked as he sat down next to him.

"Okay? Why wouldn't I be?" Jawn nervously laughed. "Seriously, Kenny!"

"Then why are you so jumpy?" Kennedy insisted. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine, Kenny." Jawn looked away form Kennedy. "I'm fucking fine."

"Jawn, talk to me," Kennedy groaned.

"I--" Jawn darted up, away from Kennedy. "I can't."

"What is wrong with you?" Kennedy worriedly asked as his eyes followed Jawn.

"I'm.. I just.. I can't.. I'm sorry." Jawn left the area, and his band mates and me and my bandmates confused.

"What's wrong with him?" Stephen shrugged as he took Jawn's seat next to Kennedy.

"Do you think I know?" Kennedy sighed.

"Do Garrett or Pat or Jared know?" Stephen looked at me.

Jared does. "No, I don't think so."

Jared had no idea I heard Jawn and him talking about it. "He hasn't talked to me all morning.

Liar.

After a couple more minutes of silence, Garrett yelled. "Pat, I can't fucking take it. Talk to me, please?! I'm sorry you almost saw me crying, please, just talk to me. Please? I'm sorry,"

Pat quietly ignored his best friend begging for his attention.

"Patrick John Kirch, please fucking talk to me. Or else you're gonna see me cry, right fucking here, right fucking now, and you're gonna have to watch me whether you like it or not. Pat,"

"Don't cry." Pat coldy commanded. "Don't you dare cry in front of me."

"I promised you I was never gonna leave you, I never promised you I'm never gonna cry in front of you,"

"It was a sprained ankle for crying out loud."

"And it fucking hurt. Do you want me to sprain your fucking ankle and dare you not to cry in front of me?"

"That's sick, you'd never hurt me." Pat mumbled.

"Pat, please?"

"Gare, please?" Pat mocked.

"Pat,"

"Who wants some juice?" Pat clapped and got up.

"Come on, Pat."

John, Josh, and Brian insensitively accepted Pat's offer for juice.

"Alright," Pat started walking away.

"Don't make me come get you, Pat."

"I would really love to see you try come get me." Pat said as he went off farther.

"Fine," Garrett forced himself up and hopped his way to Pat, his bandaged ankle never touching the ground.

Pat didn't know Garrett took it seriously and followed him, so he was hell surprised when Garrett jumped on him and made the both of them come crashing down.

"Garrett!" Pat whined.

"I'm sorry."

"Get off me." Pat scoffed.

"How long can you keep it up, Pat, how long?"

"Keep what up?"

"This." Garrett frowned. "How long can you keep acting like you're mad at me? Everyone else knows you're not. Well, if they're all dumbasses, I guess they don't, but I do. Stop it, Pat, stop. I know you're not mad at me, you just fucking care about me."

"Garrett,"

"I dare you to tell me you're legitimately mad at me and that you don't care about me at all. I dare you, Pat."

Pat remained silent and waited for Garrett to get off him.

"Oh my God Pat, don't cry!"

"I can't help it." Pat quietly said.

"Shit, no, Pat. You're not supposed to cry."

No response from Pat.

"Pat, I know it's only been a couple of hours, but I miss you already. Pat, please? I can't fucking take it."

"Get off me." He scoffed for the second time, but more softly.

"I can't get up on my own." Garrett innocently cried.

"You didn't have to attack me on the floor." Pat stirred around and rolled out from under him.

"Did it work?" Garrett tried to push himself up.

Pat helped him. "Yup."

"I'm really sorry."

"Are you two gonna kiss or get us our juice?" Brian interrupted.

Pat and Garrett glared at Brian. "What?"

"Nothing," Brian got up and jumped over them. "I'm gonna get juice."

"Yay, you guys made up." I cheered.

"I didn't know they fought in the first place," Kennedy laughed.

Pat and Garrett brought themselves up and took their seats back from a while ago.

"Okay, so now that shit with Parrett's all cleared up," Kennedy clasped his hands together. "What's up with Jawn?"

"No idea." Jared got up and went off.

"I'm serious." Kennedy worriedly turned to me. "What's wrong with him?"

"Maybe it's about Garrett hurting himself and him having to take the blame?" I forced a stupid idea into his head.

Kennedy contemplated for a couple of seconds on how realistic the reason I had just casually and cleverly come up with was.

Jared agreed with my idea. "Yeah, maybe he just loves Garrett too much."

"I love him more." Pat growled.