Days Go By

Jamie looked like she wanted to kill him. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to hear the speech she was giving him on the drive to Max’s house, or the harsh tones and frustrated groans that followed his own commentary between her words. He’d grown so used to it that he simply viewed it as her own form of payback for the hours of sleep she’d miss the night before waiting for him to stumble home and taking care of him the following morning.

“You didn’t even call her, Garrett. You didn’t even have the decency to tell her not to show up at that disgusting bar you two meet up at because you couldn’t make it.” Jamie glared at him at the stoplight, lips in a heavy scowl and arms tight across her chest. “I cannot wait for her to lose interest in you.”

Garrett scoffed, smirking at her for a moment. “It’s Tegan, Jamie. She’ll never lose interest.”

She sighed, an obvious bit of disappointment attached to the breath. “You of all people should know these things aren’t permanent.”

Her words pushed away Garrett’s smirk, his heart immediately dropping to his stomach. He feared the worst, that she’d mention more or bring up old memories that just made him want to be sick. He let out a warning groan that he knew would stop anymore words from leaving her lips. Just the implication of it ruined his good mood, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel and attention forced on the road in front of him.

It wasn’t until the car stopped in front of Max’s house, that she finally muttered his name and stopped him from rushing out of the car. Garrett could feel her stare, waiting for him to turn to her with a smile and brush away the comment she’d made. This time though, he simply stared out the windshield, his jaw staying tight as her hand touched his for a moment in attempts to get his attention.

“I didn’t say it to be a bitch, Garrett,” Her words were soft, eyes scanning over his face cautiously. “I said it because it’s true.”

He turned to her then, his frown falling more south. “Well you’re certainly a great multitasker, Jamie, ‘cause somehow you managed to do both.”

There was a new silence that settled between them, this one even worse than the first. It wasn’t his intention to hurt her, in the same way he was sure it wasn’t her intention to hurt him either, but he was sure he was. He searched for the right apology or something to say to make the tension disappear, hoping that they could go inside together with the typical lighthearted smiles they were known for having around the other.

"Well, it's a good thing that's your favorite part about me,” Jamie sent him a smirk. "Who else can cure your hangovers like I do, Gary? That takes plenty of multitasking."

Garrett couldn’t bite back the smile her words immediately induced. She was the only one who could do that. Bringing up his past hurt and he rarely let whoever mentioned it off the hook so easily, but with Jamie he knew she’d never intentionally hurt him. Her light words seem to end the tugging in his gut and the irregular beats in his chest. A heavy smile spread across his lips again, as if the one before had never left and he flipped back around, his legs back in the car.

“Multitasking?” He scoffed, “Last time I checked, you just let that obnoxious alarm clock wake me up now.”

Jamie pushed her door open then, matching him so one leg hung out of his car while the other rested on the floor beneath them. “Don’t be silly, Gar. I only use that when I have to drag drunk-Garrett into the bathroom six times, begging him to take a shower.”

“I didn’t do that?” He questioned, his eyes widening at her words.

She nodded. “Last month. Seven times I dragged you to the bathroom before I finally just pushed you into the shower and put a chair in front of the door.”

"You could have just promised to go in with me," he smirked, sending her a wink.

"I did," she scoffed. "And you came out of the bathroom, dripping wet and slurring—in a towel no less—demanding to know why you were showering alone and why I wasn't naked yet."

"What can I say, Jamie? I like my girls w—“

"Please don't finish that sentence," Jamie stood from the car, closing the door behind her.

Max’s house looked the same as it always had, the rest of the guys’ cars lining the driveway and street in front of it. Garrett pulled himself from the car, locking the doors by the time Jamie made it around the vehicle. He caught her when she stepped up onto the sidewalk, his arm immediately over her shoulder as he leaned down to check the car door one final time. The two then stumbled up the overly-grown front lawn to the front door, her arm finally wrapping around his waist when they stepped up to the front porch.

“You really don’t have to knock, Jamie.” Garrett mumbled when she stopped them, her fist extended out to the door. “It’s just Moose’s.”

Jamie scoffed, hold him back as she knocked at the door, waiting for whoever was on the other side to invite them in. “It’s called manners, Gary. Get some.”

Garrett smiled again as he unwrapped his arm from around her shoulder, twisting the knob in the action. “It’s called friends, Jamie.” He smirked, pushing the door open. “Get some.”

The two stepped inside, pulling their jackets from their frames. Garrett had barely gotten his arm around her shoulder again before the pack of guys assigned to cook were tugging her to the kitchen, hoping to have her help fix their failing meal. Garrett giggled at the sight, waving goodbye as she looked at him for help to escape the group.

It didn’t take long before Garrett made it outside, joining the rest of his band mates and friends. He spent the short amount of time focusing on the glass bottle in his hand in attempts to ignore the incessant ringing of the phone in his pocket.

“Garrett.” His friend’s voice pulled his from his daze and he looked up quickly, the group around him watching as John spoke again. “Who’s calling you now?”

He sat up quickly, pulling the device from his pocket, eyeing the name that flashed across the front with a smirk. “No one important,” He mumbled out indifferently, turning the phone off completely and setting it beside him.

Tim shot Jared a smile, “Was it Dakota?”

The name brought together the flash of memories he had that morning, the smirk growing across his lips. “Was that her name?” It sounded familiar enough, the girl from the night before could have been a Dakota. But Garrett hadn’t cared about her name then and certainly didn’t now.

“So this chick has your number and you don’t even remember her name?” John laughed.

"It wasn't her," Garrett scoffed. "She doesn't have my number and I wouldn’t have bothered giving it to her if she asked.”

Kennedy shifted in his seat, resting his elbows against his knees as the giggle escaped his lips. “Isn’t it kind of weird that you're so particular about the chicks that have your number, but you don't give a fuck about which ones you're putting your dick in?”

"Fucking them is a one-time thing, man," he rolled his eyes. "Giving them my number lets them think they have say in the game."

His own laughter turned into a strangled cough when the back of Jamie's hand hit his chest, the glare on her face altering him that he was in trouble again. The guys around him laughed harder when he glanced up at her with a sheepish smile, gesturing to the empty seat between he and John with a wink.

“Dakota.” He muttered as she stepped around his extended legs, falling into the empty spot.

It wasn’t until Jamie situated herself between the two that she looked up at him, bring her cup to her lips and swallowing whatever liquid she was drinking. “What?” Her words were lost in the cup, but Garrett smiled nonetheless.

“Her name was Dakota.” He mumbled into her ear as he twisting towards her frame, his arm wrapping around her shoulder again. “Last night.”

There was a pause as she took another sip, slouching into his side and resting the cup on her knee for a moment. “If you think that means you get to sleep in my bed tonight, you’re mistaken.” She countered, rolling her eyes at his smile. “Who told you her name?”

Garrett shrugged with another smirk, focusing his attention on the cup between her knees. “Please tell that’s not just Coke, Jamie.”

“Of course it is.”

He sent her a glare, his arm tightening at her shoulders as he shook his head. It was nearly a lost cause, going to parties with Jamie at his arm. Not only for the simple fact that he knew she wouldn't put out, but because the girl simply didn't believe in living such an ostentatious life like he did. She went to grad school and worked with her professors at her internship—the two main reasons why she went to bed early and never had those nights to never remember like he did. The only exception to the former was those nights Garrett slept over at her house, when she'd stay up to take care of him. Accomplished as he considered that to be, it was still a struggle for Garrett to get his best friend drunk with him. The last time, he remembered, the two had even sat down at her apartment weeks before to plan the night she would get wasted with him--and that had been the winter before, once her finals had finished and she had the weekend before she would have to be the responsible one again.

“Jamie,” He groaned, pulling the cup from between her knee and away before she could stop him. “You’re supposed to be getting fucked up tonight.”

“And when did I say this?”

“Last night, in your sleep. You were all Garrett, please get me drunk tomorrow at Max’s.” He smirked, “that of course was after you confessed your undying love for me and told me you really did wanna sleep with me.”

“Even if I did say that, Garrett”—she stressed his name, giving him a glare—“you wouldn’t even remember. You couldn’t even remember the name of the girl you were sleeping with last night.”

“That’s ‘cause I only remember important shit.” He responded with a smirk, his attention moving from her to the crowd around them, all busy with their own conversations. “Now who wants to get my lovely friend, Jamie, a drink.”

Each of the guys laughed, looking between the two, amused. After a moment, Kennedy stood from his place, offering a grin as he held his hand out for Jamie's drink. "I'll get 'er one," he shrugged.

Garrett grinned, pushing at Jamie now so she stood as well, placing her cup in her hand. "Good!" he smirked. "Go on in, girl, and Kenny'll get you good and drunk."

She made a few excuses, none of which Garrett listened to as he continued to force her to Kennedy against her protests. After enough pushes by him and kind words by Kenny, she reluctantly followed as she began listing all the things Kennedy wasn’t allowed to serve her this evening. The group’s eyes followed the two until they stepped inside and then they watched Garrett, his attention now settled on his cell phone, it vibrating across his thigh.

“You can’t be serious?” Tim’s jaw dropped as he stared at the phone, Garrett letting it continue buzzing without even an acknowledgement in its direction. “Who the hell keeps call you?”

Garrett’s eyes then fell to the device, reading her name across the screen with a smirk. “No one important,” He reassured, ignoring the call completely to stop the buzzing.

“Maybe it’s his mom.” Jared chimed in and the group laughed.

His eyes fell to his phone again as it lit up, reminding him of the four voicemails she’d already left. They’d all sound the same; she was reminding him she’d called and about whatever promise he broke. These messages were about the night before and him not showing up to see her. He was sure she’d act indifferent, like she didn’t need him, but Garrett knew the truth; she was desperate for his attention. He met their gazes again with a smirk, pocketing the device again. “Trust me, Jared, this definitely wasn’t my mom.”

“Well who else would have called you ten times, man?”

It was then he felt her hand slide over his shoulder as Kennedy stepped by, falling back into the chair he occupied before. Garrett glanced up to see his friend sipping on whatever new drink she had with a smile. His hands reached up, pulling the red cup from her grip and bringing it to his lips. Frowning, he dumped the liquid on the grass under his seat.

“You forgot the booze,” He shot the guitarist a glare, rising from the chair, “Usually you're forgetting the chaser to your booze, not the other way 'round, Ken."

“She wouldn’t let me—“ Kennedy tried but Garrett interrupted him, twisting around to meet his best friend’s frown.

Garrett’s smirk grew as she parted her lips, readying herself to speak. “Obviously, you gotta let a man take care of this.” He interrupted.

“I’m plenty man—“ Kennedy tried again, only to have Garrett laugh.

“Yeah, right, because you sure proved to Jamie what a man you can be with that juice, huh?” He smirked, looking over his shoulder to catch the smiles of his friends as they nodded in agreement.

Pleased with himself, he tried to slip by Jamie, cup in hand. Before he could proceed into the house though, she caught him forearm, stopping him and forcing him to turn around to see her again. He tried to wiggle free in attempts to avoid what he was sure would be a long, painful list of them drinks he was allowed to make her. Except she gave him no chance to slip away again, her eyes glaring at him.

“I’m coming with you,” She declared, tightening her grip on his arm. “Your drinks are—“

“Are great.” He interrupted, throwing his arm back, her hand dropping. “Why don’t you stay out here with manly Ken, I’ll get you a real drink.”

He didn’t give her a chance to stop him again, his strides quick as he stepped from the circle of chairs towards the back porch and into the kitchen. The kitchen was full of food they’d be eating soon and booze they’d finish of even faster. Garrett stood by the counter, making her a drink he knew she’d hate. His intentions were good; it wasn’t about getting her drunk like he did to other girls. Jamie needed to let loose more and Garrett was sure he knew how. Twisting the cap back onto the bottle of rum, he picked up the cup and before proceeding back out the door, pulled another bottle of beer from the fridge first.

Jamie took the drink begrudgingly when he offered it to her. She took a sip as he sat down beside her, twisting the cap of his beer from the bottle. “Garrett,” She stressed, wincing at the burn. “You can’t be serious.”

“Best drink I’ve ever made.” He smirked, bringing the new beer to his lips. “Don’tcha love me for making it for you?”

Her scowl grew. “You must think my liver’s trying to kill itself with this.” He watched her as she tried it again, shaking her head as she swallowed again. “Did you forget what soda is?”

“He must have forgotten what soda was when he forgot how to silence his phone.” Tim interrupted, glaring at the pocket where is phone was in his pocket, hearing it buzz again. “Who’s calling you?”

It was then that Jamie started paying attention, giving Garrett a curious stare that he refused to acknowledge. “She’s still calling then?”

Garrett could only nod, looking away as the guys’ eyes widened collectively.

“Wait.” Tim demanded, stopping the silent conversation going on between the two. “Jamie knows who’s calling you?”

Kennedy scoffed, interrupting Tim then. “Duh, Tim. Didn’t you know, Gar tells Jamie everything.”

Neither acknowledge the smirk that climbed across Kennedy’s lips, instead distracting themselves with their drinks. Both knew their relationship was very conventional but neither protested to their closeness. Garrett was never pushed away from her, no matter what his state was or what she had to do the next day. It’s why she trusted him with a key to her place and allowed him to keep his clothing in her closet and toothbrush at her sink. They seemed happy enough being the other’s best friend, no matter how strange the guys found it.

“So who was it then?” Tim pushed, aggravated.

Jamie caught his stare. “Who was who?”

“On the phone,” He pressed, pointing a finger at Garrett. “Gar’s phone.”

“Oh.” She smiled, looking down at him. “Did they call more than once?”

Tim spoke up, giving Garrett a smirk that he didn’t return. “Like four times.”

She caught his eye then, sending him a smile too. “Tegan.” She spoke, looking back at Tim. “If it’s more than once, it’s always Tegan.”

“You’re still banging her?” John smiled, looking at his bandmate proudly. “She’s so hot—“

His words were interrupted when Jamie swatted his chest, stopping his words. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

John’s jaw dropped in disbelief, his hand covering the spot where she hit him. “You hit me for making one comment, while you’re practically living with Mr. Manslut over there”—he gestured at Garrett, bringing a smile to the bassist’s lips—“What a standard, Jamie.”

"Oh, so you boys do know what standards are?" she looked around the group now. "I was beginning to think none of you did."

“Now c’mon, Jamie,” Garrett muttered, “I have some standards. I did end up with you as my best friend and all…”

She scoffed, “And how many girls are you leading on right now?”

Garrett smirked at her, readjusting himself so his arm rested around the back of the chair. It was the question he knew even the guys wanted to know the answer to. With all the parties he’d go to and bars he’d visited, the guys had assumed the number was huge and Garrett seemed to have some power to attract them. Jamie knew though, about all of them and why they seemed so content with being with him.

“It’s not my fault they all think I’m interested,” He shrugged as the guys smiles grew too.

Jamie hit him then, the palm of her hand hit his chest. “You’re such an asshole.”

* * *

He could tell the drinks were having an effect on her. She was acting as she always did when she let him fill her cup, just as giggly and touchy as he got with her. When she stood to excuse herself to the bathroom, she almost fell into his lap and erupted in a fit of giggles that he was sure his drinks had caused. It only took two refills to send her into this state and another would slur her words and another after that and she’d be completely gone. Garrett smiled when she’d crack jokes that made the group laugh and she thanked him the second time he brought her a drink.

After they ate, the group broke up, dispersing throughout the yard and into the house. Jamie stuck close to Garrett, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold herself steady. It was habit for her to stay with him. Even in the parties where she refused his constant attempts to get her to drink, she’d stay close to him. It was simply habit; she liked the guys enough to be with them but Garrett was her ride and closest friend in the group. It felt natural staying with him.

“Remember that one last Christmas.” Pat laughed at Garrett’s frown, recalling too many times when Garrett would mess up his girls. “You’d hooked up with three girls and Tim told the blonde one you were with one of the others. I don’t think I’ve seen you get slapped harder.”

Garrett didn’t laugh, glaring at his friend. Jamie did though, a new set of giggles spilling from her lips as she thought of it. Her arm looped around his neck then as she held herself up, they alcohol dizzying her more. “That sounds lovely,” She mumbled, resting her head against Garrett’s shoulder. “Where was all when all this smacking was happening?”

“You were gone.” Pat answered after a moment, lifting his own drink to his lips. “You always leave parties early.”

Jamie gasped, “I do not.” Her attention went to Garrett, her free hand patting his chest. “Gary,”—she ignored his eye roll—“Tell-tell Pat I do not leave parties early.” She paused for a moment and when Garrett didn’t speak she continued. “Go on, tell Pat. Garrett? Tell him.”

“You always leave before midnight, Jamie.” Garrett groaned, swatting her hand away from his chest.

“What?” She looked at him, shocked by his words “That’s such a lie, Gary. I stay late. I bet it’s past midnight right now.”

They both looked at Pat, waiting for him to side with one or the other. The drummer looked down, pulling his phone from his pocket and reading the numbers on the main screen. He smirked, shoving the device in his pocket again before looking up at the two. “It’s 12:03.”

It was then that her arms dropped from his as she let out a cheer, one that set her into another round of giggles and stumbles away from him. Garrett grabbed her quickly, pulling towards his chest and preventing her from falling over her feet again. Jamie’s arms wrapped around him and she laughed into his chest. “Didja hear that, Gary? I was right.”

“By three minutes.” He scoffed.

She shrugged. “I still won.” Her arms tightened around his stomach as she hugged him more, his head resting atop hers. “Now you should take me home.”

“What?”

“I have class.” She mumbled, “And a meeting.”

Garrett let out a whine, pulling her from him gently to see the dopey smile across her face. “Jamie, you’re not even drunk.”

“C’mon, Gary. It’s home time.” She laced their fingers and stepped away, only to have him tug her back.

He stopped her. “No. It’s drink time.”

“Okay,” She smiled as he did, giggling at him. “Next party, you can get me drunk, okay? But we have to go right now.”

This time Garrett gasped, mocking her reaction from earlier. His eyes met Pat’s as he continued to push her hands away when she tried to tug him in the direction of the house. “Pat, you witnessed that, right?”

The drummer ignored Jamie’s glare, crossing his arms over his chest. “Looks like she’s stuck doing it this time.”

She forced a shrug, wrapping her arm around Garrett’s waist. “Fine.” She breathed, now pulling Garrett towards the door. “Home. Go.”

The two made it through the house, despite her half dragging him and tripping over her own feet and sending them to the floor. He rolled his eyes, scooping her up and back to her feet and guided her through the rest of the house. They waved to the few friends they passed, all giving them curious glances as to way they were leaving but neither stopped until they reached Garrett’s car.

Garrett held the key to his car up, watching her rest against the door. “One more thing, Jamie.”

Her eyes opened more and another grin climbed across her face. “Anything, darling.”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“Duh, silly.” Jamie grinned, her arms coiling around him neck as she pulled him into a hug. “I’m drunk.”

“You’re not drunk,” He mumbled with a smirk. “But if that’s all it’ll take for any guy to get in your bed then—“

She swatted his chest then, putting some distance between her slouching body and his. “That rule only applies to you, dummy.”