Come Back To Me

I stared out the window of my car as I looked at the addresses on the houses I was passing. Garrett and I had managed to keep in touch a little bit over the years. I’d sent him Christmas and Birthday cards whenever they rolled around, so I knew where he lived. Well, I vaguely knew where he lived. It had been five years since I had traveled the streets of Tempe and things had changed a bit. There were new buildings that I didn’t recognize and some of the streets were harder to find now that I didn’t walk down them every day. I turned a corner and stopped, staring up at the house in front of me. This was it, I had found his house. But was he home? Did I have the courage to walk up to that door and ring the doorbell? Would I have the strength to greet the girlfriend that I knew he probably had? What if he had forgotten his promise to me? Was this whole idea of moving back home pointless? I glanced at the clock on the dashboard, watching the numbers change from 10:59 to 11:00. Hopefully he was up and actually here.

Standing on Garrett’s front porch, I knocked on the door as loud as I could and then waited. I felt ridiculous standing on his porch in one of the band’s hoodies and a pair of gray skinny jeans. The heat was starting to seep in despite it only being 11. I was beginning to lose hope in Garrett being home when the door opened. He stood there in a wrinkled zombie t-shirt and boxers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he tried to figure out who I was. I had died my hair a few times over the years before finally settling on the red color that it was now. Stepping forward, I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him. “My god, I’ve missed you so much Garrett!”

He wrapped his arms around me and patted my back awkwardly. I’d caught him off-guard and he still didn’t know who I was. Pulling away, I looked into those blue eyes and smiled. Garrett stared at me for a few before he seemed to recognize me. I watched him glance over my figure and then back up to my face. His hand reached out to pick up a lock of my hair and I couldn’t stop the giggles from erupting. Poor Garrett looked so confused and well, surprised. Before I knew what was happening, he had pulled me to him and was squeezing me like a balloon he wanted to pop.

“It’s really you. Holy shit, I’m not dreaming. It really is you, Merry.”

We stood there in his doorway and it felt like we were standing between two worlds. The first world being the one I had moved to when I left Tempe, the second world being Tempe itself. I smiled and held Garrett as best as I could with my arms pinned to my sides. He was still muttering to himself about how it really was me and about how he couldn’t believe it. When Gare finally let go, he stepped aside and insisted I come inside. The house was nice looking on the outside but the inside was the kicker. It was all organized neatly and had that homey feeling to it that not too many houses seemed to have anymore. He led me to the living room and told me to have a seat while he went to go take a quick shower. And just like that, everything felt normal. This was exactly how we used to be before I moved and it was something I had missed so much while I was in Chicago.

I sat down on the black leather couch and relaxed, stretching out my sore legs. From the moment I left Chicago I had driven. It took three days for me to get here because I only stopped once and that was so I could get some sleep at a motel. Call me crazy, but coffee became my best friend on the drive here. In fact, I was craving some coffee right now. Maybe Garrett and I could go to a Starbucks and get something to drink. That is of course, unless he didn’t want to go out in public where he could be mobbed by fans. My eyes scanned Garrett’s living room and stopped on a picture of the two of us. It was one John had taken the day at the skating rink. I felt the pressure building behind my eyes and blinked before looking down at my shoes. Anything that would keep me from thinking about that day and how things had changed.

Garrett walked back into the room with a white v-neck and a button up shirt on. His hair was wet from the shower and I could faintly smell his body wash from where I was sitting. I watched him walk towards me in a pair of skinny jeans that were gray like mine. He sat down beside me on the couch and smiled that brilliant white smile of his. My heart skipped a beat at that smile and I laughed quietly to myself.

“What’s so funny, Miss Survenal?”

“I’m just surprised you still keep pictures of us out. I thought that you might have moved on and found a new best friend.”

“Why would you think that? I made you promise to come back when you’re ready. I also promised that I’d be here for you when you got back.”

“Yeah, I know. I just figured because… things and people change. I’ve changed Gare, haven’t you?”

“Aside from the fame, not really. I’m still the same Garrett Nickelsen you left behind when you moved to Chicago five years ago.”

I laughed and leaned over to hug him again. It was weird being in this town and being around Garrett after so long but I knew it would grow on me. “Hey, do you think we can go to a Starbucks or something and get some coffee?”

“Yeah, sure. Just let me get some shoes on and then we can go.”

Nodding, I followed Garrett to the front door where he slipped on some shoes and then led me out the front door. He locked it behind us and then looked at my jeep, which I had successfully managed to pack all of my stuff into. I watched him walk over to it and peer into the back, where all the boxes were stacked neatly so that they fit.

“You found somewhere to live yet?”

“Uhm—no, not yet. I was planning on doing that later.”

“Alright, well do you care if I join you?”

“Not at all. I was hoping you would.”

He grinned and then we walked a few blocks to the Starbucks. By the time we got there I was drenched in sweat and I was more than willing to have an iced coffee. Garrett and I talked a bit more about how things had been for both of us over the years and about how the band had been doing. I knew some of their successes because I had kept an eye on them over the years. They all deserved the success since they worked so hard on their music. That was all it was about in the beginning but now that they had fans, it was about them too. The Maine wanted their fans to be happy, so they continued doing what made themselves happy. I admired them for that.