One Pack of Smokes from Broke.

Early December.

Charlie grabbed the armful of prints she had yet to go through.

She sat on her bed, putting the folders in her lap. She emptied all of them so all of the photos were spread out in front of her.

She smiled, seeing memories of the past 2 months and a half.

A portion was of her mother's once again happy self. Pictures of them together, both grinning widely. A lot of her mother painting again up in her art studio. Seeing her mother pick up her paint brush again gave Charlie the happiest feelings she'd felt in months.

Another chunk of the photos were ones of the boys' shows. She'd been finding herself going to more and more, almost never missing a hometown show.

Another part was of the boys themselves, out and about at random moments. In a majority of them a pair of now very familiar blue eyes stared back at her.

Charlie loved taking pictures of Garrett. Often he posed for her, flashing his signature metal hand or just goofy faces. Sometimes she would ask him to just smile, and he would. The satisfaction of knowing how much she liked his smile showed in all of them.

Above all, her favorites were of the ones where he didn't know he was being photographed.

Charlie smiled, picking up one of them.

Garrett sat on the floor of his bedroom, in front of his record player. He had the vinyl he'd just bought with her earlier that day resting in his lap. He had headphones plugged into the record player so only he could hear, a punishment Charlie had earned for teasing him about his tie all day, even though she loved everything about his outfit that day.

Charlie found herself spending most of her free time with Garrett. They'd go over to his house most of the time. Sometimes she'd just sit in the living room, teasing him with his mother while his father cooked dinner, those were the nights Charlie would agree to stay for dinner, his parents were always asking her to. Sometimes they'd go play random video games or watch movies with his older brother, Trey. Sometimes she'd bring over school work in attempt to help him with it, ending up doing the work by herself while he sat beside her, strumming his guitar and humming or singing softly to her.

Charlie looked over to the wall next to the bed she was sitting on. It was filled with the pictures she'd taken. They were of various things. Her mom and dad before the accident. Her sister before she took off to God knows where. The Smoking Hole. Winter. Eric. Austin. Tons of John over the years. Nature. There was also a single picture for every show she'd taken pictures for. The wall meant a lot to her, it was her life through pictures, though not one single photo was left up of Him, she'd taken those down long ago.

If she put a picture on the wall, it must mean a lot to her. The people in it must mean a great deal to her, too.

She looked down at the picture of Garrett in her hands. He was the only one who she hadn't put up there. Pictures of Pat, Kennedy, Jared, Tim, Matt, and even one of Trey she'd found that didn't also contain his younger brother hung about.

Charlie knew exactly why she'd avoided putting Garrett up there. It would mean admitting that he meant something big to her. And she knew why him meaning something big to her was different from everyone else.

"Shit," she muttered as she unknowingly clenched the photo in her hands. She looked down at what she'd done. "Shit," she muttered again, tossing the now crinkled photo aside.

Charlie could feel herself starting to like Garrett, a lot. She couldn't avoid it. How did she let herself get in so deep?

The way he started at her like she was beautiful. They way whenever they first saw each other, his face would light up and he'd run to her and wrap his arms tightly around her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her. They was John never tried to get between them. The way he'd call her just to tell her he'd heard a song he thought she'd like, and how she always did. The way his dorkiness never failed to make her laugh. The way he always tried to dance at the parties they went to. The way he told her how much he liked her when he got drunk. The way he always watched her instead of the band playing on stage while they stood side stage. They way he laughed, smelled, bit his lip, held her hand under the table, the way his hand felt against hers. Everything about him.

The fact that she hadn't felt this way about anyone except Him.

The fact that she was repulsed at the mere idea of moving on.

The fact that she knew she had to, and that it was time.

Charlie sighed and looked down at the photos on her bed again. A particular small bunch caught her eye, they were ones that she was in.

Brow furrowed, she picked up the stack, jaw dropping when she examined them further.

There in the pictures were her and Garrett, sitting on the blanket covered tree in the Smoking Hole.

The first one was of her leaned on her, elbow resting on his knee. She held the cigarette between he fingers, but neither were paying it any attention, they both stared into each other's eyes. They both had happy smiles planted on their faces.

The second was of Garrett taking his first breath of smoke. His eyes were closed and cheeks hallowed. Charlie was closer to him than the last. You could see the arm Garrett'd propped himself on behind her. The thing Charlie noticed most was her own smile. She was biting her lip as she smiled. He'd already rubbed off on her that early.

The last picture was taken after Garrett'd had his coughing fit. They both sat up straight now, no longer leaning over each other, though it might seem as if they were attached from shoulder to hip they were so close. Charlie smiled over at him, lips now closed. Garrett was the one biting his lip now while he smiled. His cheeks were tinted a light shade of red.

Charlie stared at all three of the pictures.

Fuck it, she thought as she grabbed the special tape she used to hang her photos.

She tapped all three pictures together on her wall, knowing fully well what she was admitting.

Fuck it.