Easier To Lie

"We should probably get up before Kennedy finds us here," mumbled Garrett.

"Mmm...I don't want to."

Mallory and Garrett had been lying on her bed, in the guest room she had grown accustomed to calling her own. Their legs were tangled in the sheets and they had been listening to the birds sing through her open window.

He had his hand on her stomach, gently drawing random shapes with his pointing finger. She reached beside her for her phone, checking the time.

She was surprised to receive a text from her brother.

From: Big Brock
I won't be back until late. I know Garrett's over there, so you'll be fine, right? Love you.

She set her phone back down and turned to Garrett. "Kennedy won't be back until late, so, I think you get to stay for a while." Her smile turned into a wicked grin as she pressed her lips to his.

Soon enough, she was straddling his hips and her teeth were grazing at a spot on his neck.

"Mallory," he groaned, "No."

"Why?" she pouted.

"I haven't eaten yet," he whined.

She threw her head back and laughed. "Gare, you're so fat. I can't believe you'd turn down sex for food."

"Well..."

"I thought so."



"Whaddaya want? We got oatmeal, cereal, pancake mix, toast..."

"Can I make you pancakes?" he offered excitedly.

Her eyebrows raised and her hand went to her hip.

"My mom taught me how to make them!" he explained.

Her skeptic expression stayed plastered onto her face as she surrendered the stove to her boyfriend.

"Just don't burn down the kitchen, Nickelsen."

"Aye aye, captain!" he said with a salute. Then he took the box of Bisquick out of the pantry and got it ready.

As he was adding all the necessary ingredients, there was a knock on the door.

Mallory took one last look at Garrett, who had a very focused expression on his face, and headed for the door, figuring it was Kennedy and that he had forgotten his keys, or something.

Instead, she came face to face with the last person she wanted to see.

He looked up from the ground and stared wide-eyed at her.

"What are you doing here?" she spat.

"I-I came to apologize."

"For what?"

"For everything."

"Well, apology not accepted, goodbye."

Mallory tried to slam the door in his face, and almost succeeded if John hadn't stuck his foot through the doorway.

Mallory clenched her fists in frustration and John flinched in pain.

"Ow."

She just rolled her eyes and opened the door once more.

"Seriously, just leave. I don't want to hear an apology. I don't need one. I'm willing to forget about everything if you are."

After a few beats of silence, no one spoke.

"What are you apologizing for anyway?"

He looked at her helplessly. "Punching your brother, insulting you, etc."

Before she could respond, she felt a hand on the small of her back.

"What's going on here?"

Garrett had come to her rescue.

Like always.

"Hey Garrett," John said cooly.

"John," he replied cautiously.

"I was just here to apologize to Mallory for being so rude yesterday."

"Oh, cool. Um, I was actually making pancakes," he said with a tight smile.

It was obvious that Garrett didn't want John to be there. Quite frankly, Mallory didn't either. Not at all.

John perked up. "Really? Is there room for one more?"

Garrett scratched the back of his neck and his eyes darted over to his girlfriend, leaving it up to her to answer.

Her eyes widened at Garrett, as if saying, "Why me?!" He shrugged and she turned back to John.

"Fine. I'm sure Garebear can make more pancakes."

John cringed at the nickname. He really wished that Mallory would be calling him nicknames like those. He couldn't quite figure out why he thought that, though. He usually got annoyed at even the mention of names such as, "John the Bon Bon," or, "Johnny."

But coming from Mallory, they just sounded so different. Maybe it was how beautiful she was. Maybe it was how fragile she was.

From the moment he met her, he could tell something was wrong. The girl was jumpy as hell. And he wanted to fix her.

But Garrett got to her first. He got to do the fixing and the taking care of.

He and the guys had never fought over a girl before. And he didn't like doing that with Gare now. He didn't like the thought of despising one of his best friends. But Mallory, she seemed worth it.

"John, are you coming?" Mallory said through gritted teeth. He seemed really out of it today, she thought. He had just been standing by the closed door, staring at his shoes. Only God knew what that boy had been thinking about.

She sat back down at the kitchen island and giggled at Garrett's scrunched up nose as he tried to flip the pancake over.

"Having trouble there, baby?"

"No..." he mumbled.

John took a seat across from her, his big head blocking her view.

"I'm sorry, were you looking at Cutie Pie Nickelsen over there?"

"You cocky cock," she murmured, and crossed her arms over her chest, displeased at the sight of him.

He laughed at her attempt at a decent comeback.

"Come on, Mallory, I think you can do better than that."

"O'Callaghan you know I can do better than that."

"Then let's hear it."

"You're an overconfident dick who just wants some. You think you can have your way with me, but you can't. You're just a fucki-"

"Pancakes are almost ready!" Garrett interjected. He didn't want Mallory to get too worked up so early in the morning. He didn't know what it could do to her or the baby. He wanted to hear what she had to say to John, because it was no doubt that they were probably thinking the same vicious things about him. But he didn't want to take the risk.

Mallory just sat back and huffed.

"Babe, why don't you go up and get a CD to play?" Garrett suggested.

She pouted in protest.

He couldn't take it; she was just too cute. And he smiled when he realized that he had her all to himself.

"Please?"

"Fine. Is Gold okay?"

He nodded. The moment she was gone, he turned to John and his smile disappeared.

"Leave her the fuck alone, John. She's my girlfriend, and she's pregnant."

"It's not like she's pregnant with your baby," John scoffed.

"So? It doesn't matter. Don't push her over the edge. She's fragile."

"Well that's obvious, but I like her too, Garrett."

"Nice way of showing it. You called her a slut!"

"I apologized for that."

"She cried."

John frowned. He had made her cry? Well of course, dumbass, he thought.

"Fuck. Well, anyway, you didn't even give me a chance to try to get her to be mine!"

"I don't think she really wants you. I mean, if she wanted you, she would have dumped me already. You could get any girl, John. Why do you want mine?"

"Because she's beautiful."

"There are a ton of beautiful girls out there."

"But Mallory's-"

"Mine. Mallory's mine, John Ohh. I fought for her. I took care of her. I took her out on dates. You, on the other hand, just tried to get into her pants. I think I win this one, John."

Mallory walked down the stairs with a bit of effort. Her stomach was starting to weigh down her feet and she was developing a sort of waddle.

She was a foot or so away from the kitchen, CD case in hand, when she heard the boys fighting.

"She probably would've picked me if I hit on her first," John said.

"Who cares?" Garrett said, "Look John, if all you're here to do is tell me that I'm not good enough for Mallory, stop lying to yourself and leave."

"You're a dick, Nickelsen."

There was a scraping sound as John pushed his stool back and stepped down, stomping away, not even aware of the girl he had just been fighting about standing by the kitchen doorway.

He pulled the door open and walked out, slamming it behind him.