Sweet Misery

Being here was complete and utter shit.

I sat on a nearby staircase with my head resting against the wall all while observing all the idiots from my grade drink themselves into oblivion and a whole bunch of other kids who I had no idea were. My dreary and tired eyes scanned the room wearily. All my friends-even Pat- had somewhere to disappear to. And of course, me, the 'social outcast' was left alone.

Not that I really had a problem with that to begin with. Parties weren't my scene. Drinking was okay, but to be honest the taste of beer sort of repulsed me. Plus, if I dared to admit that I rather drink alcoholic, fruity lemonade over a cold Heineken I might be shot by not only my friends, but every other guy on the entire planet. Aside from the gays. I'm sure they'd show a little compassion.

I watched Kennedy chug a beer and Jared cheer him on. I saw Pat's eyes widened when a relatively short girl came up and started to talk to him. And then, as usual, I recognized John chatting up some chick and twirling her hair with his finger. Fucking lucky bastard.

Everything came so easy for John. Sure, he was my best friend and he was older, but even last year and when he was still in school with us, girls just fell all over him. Part of me wished John was a dick to girls and would get a bad rep, but in all honesty, he was decent. Although his relationships never lasted long because he usually picked out dumb blonde rich girls, he treated each of them like mother fucking Aphrodite. He just had this natural confidence about himself and could walk up to any girl, at any time and have them fall in love with him at the first syllable out of his mouth.

Oh, another shitty thing about parties- there's always this fucking shitty-as-hell dance music playing. Who was in charge of the god damn playlist, undeveloped, ignorant bastards?

Thinking about this made me realize why I couldn't get a girl for the life of me though. I mean, here I was, at a party with many girls around, and I was just being a pessimistic little bitch. No wonder why nobody would want to even make an effort to talk to me.

The entrance to the house-or should I say the entrance to hell? Too cliche? Okay.-was directly in front of me. I had a lovely viewing of all who decided to make an appearance. And with each new victim, I only felt another string holding my heart up snap.

But then, as if God finally heard me, she walked in.

She was trailing behind Tessa Hudson (who was sure to make tonight a living hell for John) and Carrie Nelson. She was biting the side of her lip nervously and glancing around the room for any sign of someone who she was familiar with. She pulled on the sleeves of her sweater and wrapped them around her fists.

The second I saw her, I lifted my head up anxiously and my eyes widened. I was no longer tired. How could I be tired when Harley Washington stood less than ten feet away from me. I straightened my back and watched her earnestly for her next move.

I wanted her so badly to sit down right in front of me on the stairs. Then maybe I could possibly accidentally kick her in the back or something, which inevitably, would force her to turn around and see me. And then hey, maybe she'll compliment my dirty, old chucks and we'll start a conversation about Chuck Taylor himself and the quality of his products. Hell, maybe we would even start to make out.

Not only is the whole making out a far stretch, but the whole situation was far from anything that would actually happen. In fact, even if she did sit down in front of me-which I already knew she wouldn't-I know I would sit as still as a damn mouse and watch her like a creep and admire the back of her head all night long.

Swallowing hard, I watched Tessa turn to Harley. Of course, being the creepy asshole that I am, I decided to eves-drop.

"John's here." Tessa muttered what she figured was quiet, but if we're being honest here, anything that came out of Tessa Hudson's mouth was beyond and far from quiet.

I tried my best to hide my smirk upon noticing Harley roll her eyes at Tessa's remark. Of course, the oblivious bitch didn't notice.

Carrie placed a hand on Tessa's shoulder compassionately. "And so is Mason Dillon. Go mack on that."

First off, what the fuck does ''mack'' mean? And second, I thought Mason Dillon was in rehab for steroid abuse?

"Oh, good call."

Something glowed in Carrie's eyes, "Make him jealous."

Fucking hell, was this girl high off of someone else's problems? Jesus Christ.

Harley folded her arms over her chest and backed up against the wall that I was just previously leaning against. She placed her back against it and huffed. Instinctively, I pulled out my phone and glanced at it to make it look like I was busy.

Of course, being the smooth son of a bitch I am, I dropped it.

I stared at my phone in horror next to Harley's feet. Fuck. Confrontation. I wasn't ready for this. All I wanted to do tonight was watch'' Night of the Living Dead'' and eat popcorn with Trey. But mother fucking shit I wasn't prepared for this physically or mentally.

It's sort of funny how at night you prepare for your biggest confrontations. I had been doing it all my life. I go over my arguments, my confessions, my declarations. And of course, talking to Harley Washington was upon the biggest. I visualized in my head saying hello to her and eventually, asking her out and confessing my love for her. It had been this way especially since our first interaction, but I feel like starting over was needed anyway.

But of course, once you are faced with the actual time to do what you've been practicing, you can't. You physically can't and you mentally can't. It's literally impossible. You're too scared and too much of a wimp even if you know this is probably the only shot you're going to get.

I opened my mouth, ready to say something, but not sure what. "Hey-"

I was cut off by Tessa turning to Harley. Carrie seemed to wander off somewhere, but that was the least of my worries. I stared at my phone between their feet.

"Don't do this, Harley." She warned.

Harley's shoulders fell and she pursed her lips. "What?"

"Find a guy. Do something for once. We take you to these parties and all you do is sit in the corner acting depressed."

She shrugged lightly, "Maybe that's because I don't want to be here....."

It seemed like she was scared of Tessa, which was stupid. Harley was the only normal human being in here. She didn't want to associate with delinquents. I approved.

"You have four months."

"I don't care about Prom." She offered a weak smile.

Prom?

"It's your Senior Prom." Tessa's eyebrows lifted.

"It's not that big of a deal."

Tessa sighed heavily, shaking her head disappointingly, "It is."

And then I threw up words.

"Can I have my phone?"

Tessa and Harley's eyes shot up towards me. Harley pushed her lips together as if she was stifling a small smile Tessa, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, groaned and sighed all at once. "Excuse me?"

I cleared my phone. "I, uh, dropped my phone," I pointed towards their feet, "it's right there."

Tessa bent down, grabbed the phone vigorously and then held it out to me. I took it slowly-almost to piss her off even more- and nodded my head. "Thanks."

She didn't reply. Instead, with one last phrase to Harley before wandering away she spat, "Do something."

Harley didn't watch Tessa stalk off. Instead, she let out a heavy breath and slid down against the wall, running a hand through her dark brown hair. She wrapped her arms around her knees and looked out into the crowd. I watched as she mumbled something that I thought was "fuck."

Show time Garrett. You should "do something" too for Christ Sake.

I sunk one step down closer to her, and then another, and then another. My pulse raced and my heart banged against my chest. Feeling like I was about to have a heart attack, I said, "Best seat in the house, right?"

She looked up at me, a surprised look on her face. She smiled lightly and nodded her head, "It's sort of like the row behind the splash zone. You know, so you're not close enough to get thrown up on, but you're close enough to see someone else get thrown up on and laugh at their humility."

I raised my eyebrows and nodded my head, "Impressive," I laughed. "you're exactly right."

She snuggled into her spot some more, but refused to look me in the eyes. Instead, her green orbs scanned the room carefully and intently. "It's taken me about two years to master the art of finding the perfect spot to sit. It better be impressive."

Her urgency and tone to her voice surprise me. I had always picture Harley Washington as somewhat quiet and peaceful. Either way, she was still perfect in my eyes.

"Two years?"

She shrugged lightly. "I hate these things. I rather be home."

I leaned against the wall, oblivious to my longing gaze on her. I probably looked like an idiot, but I didn't care. "Me too," I muttered, "quite frankly, I rather be in communist Russia than here."

"It would probably be the same."

"Something like that."

She smiled lightly and finally, at last looked up at me. Almost on que, I smiled and her smile only got bigger. She chuckled and then said, "I think I'm going to go home, then." She stood up, brushing off her jeans.

She nodded her head, assure of herself. "Fuck everyone, you know? Why should I be here if I don't want to be?"

I shrugged and held up my hands. "Communism will do that to you."

She crinkled her brow, but held in a smile, making possibly the most adorable face I've ever seen in my life. "I'm sure it would."

"Well, have fun. You know, with the democracy thing and all."

"It's worth a try, isn't it?"

I laughed, "I wouldn't know. I've subjected myself to this torture for about an hour now. I've grown accustomed to it."

"Well," She mused, "It seems as if you are not enjoying it as much as the other communists."

I sighed, "Isn't that the whole beauty of communism?"

She bit her lip, which only made my heart swoon even more. "I only wish you the best of luck."

"You too, Madame."

She raised an eyebrow. "Russia. Not France."

"Whoops."

She chuckled lightly and waved goodbye before exiting through the door. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.

Holy fucking shit.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Good mornin' matey, would ya like a glass of milk?"

Pat hovered over me, his eyes wide and his hair dangling in my face. Blinking away the blurriness the night's sleep had given me, I had come to realize what was going on. I groaned and pushed Pat off of me, only causing him to fall on John, who slept on the floor next to me.

"Aw, shit Pat, get off me." John groaned as well, letting out a cough.

I sat up straight, using my arms for support and glanced around my room quickly. I ran a hand through my hair and stood up. "If you guys want breakfast, get the hell up."

I walked into the hallway, leaving my friend behinds me. Downstairs, Trey sat at the kitchen table, eating cereal and looking at the newspaper sprawled out in front of him. "Where's Mom and Dad?" I asked, making my way to the fridge and opening it.

"Mom's shopping and Dad's golfing." He mumbled with a mouthful of Fruity Pebbles.

As I got myself a bowl and milk, John and Pat made their way down the stairs and sat at the table with Trey and I. All of us ate our cereal and barely made conversation due to the fact that we were all still half asleep.

Trey, of course, was not.

"How was that party last night?"

"Dead." John muttered.

"Whoa, man. If the infamous Johno himself believes that a party sucked, then it must have in fact, sucked balls." Trey chuckled to himself.

John rolled his eyes, "Whatever. It was bad. Boring. Nothing to do. They ran out of booze within the first hour."

"Then why did you guys come home so late?"

"Halvo tricked us into going to Denny's with him."

"God, that kid is weird." Trey muttered.

I shrugged "Not as weird as the kid who yelled at every person who walked into the restaurant."

Trey's eyes flashed over to the turd that sat next to me, "Pat?"

Pat put his hands up in defense, "Why does everyone assume it was me?" He said, defensively.

"Because it was you." John nagged.

"Psh. Whatever."

We brushed him off, continuing the eat in silence. That is, up until Trey had to make yet another comment, "So what about you, Gary? How was the party from your perspective?"

John nearly snorted, "Yeah, from the staircase."

"Hey shut up," I laughed lightly. "And I don't know. I thought it was pretty decent."

"What?! Whoa! Hold up; did my brother just say that he thought a party was pretty decent?" Trey inquired.

"It appears so!" John wiggled his eyebrows. "That clearly means one thing and one thing only! There was a girl!"

Trey held up a finger, "But not just any girl. No this girl in the one and only-" Trey banged his hands against the table as a drum roll.

John then yelled loudly, "Harley Washington!"

"Shut up!" I groaned, standing up, taking the mild carton with me and placing it back into the refrigerator. I leaned against the fridge and let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay, so either it's one of two things. Either, Harley simply made an appearance and Garrett stared at her like a creep all night. Or, and this is the highly unlikely one, the two of them actually had a conversation." Trey looked at me with his eyebrows raised.

"Wait!" John interrupted, "You forgot- or they accidentally brushed each other's shoulders while passing one another."

"Ah, yes. Terrible mistake of mine. I'm am so dearly sorry."

"So what's it going to be, Gare?" Pat mused.

I rolled my eyes, "First off, you guys are asses. And second, we had a conversation."

"WHAT?!" Pat screamed, standing up and jumping in place. "It's a miracle! One step closer to marriage!"

Shaking my head, I said, "It wasn't even big. We just talked about communism and how sitting on the outskirts of a party is the best place."

John groaned and dropped his head on the table, "You're killing me, Gare."

"Shut up with your not 'even big' bullshit. You were probably having a heart attack. " Trey laughed.

I sighed and walked towards the kitchen's exit. "I'm taking a shower and when I get out all of you better be gone."

"He's going to the shower to think about Harley." John snickered.

I groaned loudly and tried my best to suppress the smile forming on my lips. "Shut the fuck up, John or I'll call every single ex-girlfriend of yours and tell them you want to get back together again."

"You wouldn't fucking dare!" He called as I walked up the stairs.

"I've done it before and I will gladly do it again!"