Hesitating and Suffocating

John set foot in the warm sunlight of his friend’s house. It had been four months since the accident, a month and a half since Cally moved to Chicago, and only two weeks until she came home. John didn’t know any of this, but it didn’t matter. Cally’s memory was still frazzled, but pieces of things were held together, certain pieces blacked out and replaced with the wrong faces, the wrong words, the wrong places. Everything was wrong.

But looking at pictures, she recognized everyone in the Christmas picture except one couple. The only couple who really mattered. She had a vague memory of Pat, of Garrett; and even vaguer memory of Kennedy, almost none of Jared. No one but Garrett knew any of this, and that was because of Gemma.

John scrunched his nose at the smell coming from the kitchen, surely Pat’s creation. The girl under his arm giggled. “John, don’t make that face,” She scolded quietly.

The girl was new, but nothing else was with John. He still stank of booze and the cigarettes he had quit long ago. He still wore the torn jeans and shirts too big, and giant bags weighed down his once luminescent eyes. The girl was a new addition, one he hadn’t even made consciously. He had become some harsher, not caring about Cally or the past he had with her. And that meant he had to get over her.

Which brought forth Jamie, the stupid little blonde who was Cally’s exact opposite, especially now. She was serious, never joking, and couldn’t take a joke. If John was being honest with himself, he hated her.

Garrett raised his brows as he looked at the little girl. “Hi there. I’m Garrett. And you are?” He said, completely ignoring John, but knew he was there because everything stank of bourbon. Jamie giggled stupidly, like she was drunker than John. John almost winced.

“I’m Jamie, John’s girlfriend,” She murmured, burying her face in John’s side as Garrett brightened, despite himself. It was good that John was getting over Cally to a degree, but Garrett knew. John was miserable, but hated that feeling, and was determined to get out of it, inspiring Jamie.

Which meant it was safe for the party to return Cally to Arizona was back on. Cally would be living with Garrett while Gemma returned to England, despite not wanting to. Garrett had been working tirelessly to make scrapbooks of pictures he had taken, her favorite things stored in cabinets. It was going to be Garrett and Pat because, simply, they were the ones she remembered most.

The night was awkward, with Jamie shamelessly flirting with John to the point of it being uncomfortable, and one name on everyone’s lips, but everyone was too afraid to mention it. Cally, Cally, Cally McGregor.