Sweet Misery

When I was a sophomore I had one of the greatest dreams of my young life, and I'm sure it will always be a dream that I remember.

It was fairly simple, yet at the same time weird and vivid. I was at some hotel with the guys, and we walked into a restaurant area, but the place was completely empty aside from someone sitting off in the corner. They sat alone with a laptop on the table in front of them. They stared at it blankly, and suddenly I was alone. Glancing around me, I noticed my friends all disappeared.

I walked over to the stranger only to discover that it was Harley. She looked up at me and gave me a sweet, friendly smile. "Watch this," She said, then reached out to her laptop and began playing a video. I can't remember the video playing for the life of me, but I pretty sure I wasn't even paying attention to it in the actual dream anyway. I stood next to her and she placed her head against my side, nuzzling in next to me and closing her eyes.

I draped an arm across her shoulders and allowed her closer to me. The next thing I knew, we were sitting and holding each other.

That was it. That was all there as to it. I woke up, heartbroken and aching. I was only fifteen, yet I had come to the conclusion that I was wasting my time. I had devoted so much time to this girl that didn't even know me that there was no way I could put any focus into another girl. There was Mckenzie Bronzer, a sweet girl with strawberry blonde hair and freckles draped across her nose, who showed an interest in me for whatever reason. John set me up on a date with her. We went to the movies and we talked and laughed and had a good time. I even kissed her goodnight, yet I never called her back because I was too distraught over the fact that my first kiss wasn't with Harley.

Then Olivia Gordon showed up, bright blue eyes and light brown, curly hair. My lab partner Junior year. She was smart and bubbly and hopeful. And we made out at one of the few parties I attended that year. But then, as I kissed her, I noticed out of the corner of my eye Harley in tight black jeans, a white tank top clinging to her torso, a kick-ass leather jacket, and her signature combat boots walking into the kitchen.

I couldn't escape her. She was in my head, and I wanted to hate her for it, but it was my fault she was there in the first place. Yet here she was, sitting next to me, an empty middle seat the only thing keeping us apart, and I was too much of a pussy to even tell her that her right boot's shoelace was untied.

John continued asking her questions and I noticed him shooting daggers at me through the rear view mirror. I inhaled a sharp breath, hoping some form of words would just shoot out and I could get this girl to fall in love with me. But of course, my very own tongue got in the way.

"Hey, why don't you come to our show next Friday?" John asked from the front seat.

He had purposely dropped everyone off first. The car was empty now aside from the three of us.

"Oh, well, uh," She let out a dry laugh and I could feel my heart twist. I wanted to make her laugh so badly. I wanted to make her smile. "I haven't really been to too many shows. Where is it?"

"Yeah, Gare, where is it?"

John knew where the show was. He was just giving me an excuse to talk. I looked over at Harley, who was staring right out me. I finally received a head-on view of the girl. I noticed things I hadn't before like the a small, barely visible scar underneath her left eyebrow. Or the beauty mark along her jawline. Her top lip was fairly smaller than her bottom, but that only made her look so much more wonderful. And her eyes, her intently haunting, vibrant green eyes.

My words yet again caught in my throat, "Uh," I coughed lightly, then looked away from her. It was the only thing I could do to speak, "Marty's."

"Yes! That's right-Marty's!" John spoke out.

"Isn't that a bar?" She asked.

"It is."

She laughed lightly, and looked out the window, shaking her head. "I can't get into a bar. I don't have an ID."

"Oh please, just ask Tessa."

Harley pressed her lips together and without another word, nodded her head then glanced back out the window. John continued rambling on until Harley spoke up, "The next right is my street."

John turned down the street and slowed the car's pace down. "It's this house on the left. Blue mailbox."

"Ah," John nodded his head and pulled up to the curb.

I knew this house. Trey and I used to ride our bikes down this block everyday during the summer when we were younger. I would have never guessed it belonged to her.

Harley unbuckled her seat belt and took hold of the car handle. "Well, thanks. I had a nice time."

"It was great to have you! Right, Gare?"

I stammered, then looked over at Harley. She smiled at me and held in a soft laugh. It was weird. She was so different right now than she was last night. This is how I pictured her for the longest time: fairly shy, cute, innocent, polite. But last night-well she kind of acted like a fierce bitch, and I mean that in a good way.

"Yeah. Great. Really fun!" I nodded my head consistently, smiling.

She bit her lower lip with her perfectly straight, aligned white teeth. I felt my stomach twist. God, she was so good looking.

"Well, thanks again." I had a feeling she was really talking to John, but our eyes were on each other and she was laughing softly at me.

Her body was out of the car, her feet on the pavement and she was about to close the door, when I blurted out, "Bye!"

She smiled again, "Bye, Garrett."

I watched in admiration as she walked up to her front door and opened it. Once she was safely in the house and out of distance, I fell to the car's floor, groaning. "Oh my God! I'm going to die, John. I'm going to die!"

He scoffed, "You had the whole day to speak to her and you didn't say anything even remotely clever. How are you suppose to nail that?"

I sat up straight, my stomach now floating out of my body. "I'm not planning on nailing that."

I climbed up into the passenger seat next to John. He started to car and we made our way down the street. "Then what's the deal?"

"I love her."

He rolled his eyes, "Jesus Christ, Garrett, you do not love her. Grow up and just realize that you're a horny kid who really needs to get laid and is attracted to a particular girl."

"I don't want to have sex with her though." I muttered.

"Yes you do."

My shoulders fell, "Okay, yeah, maybe I do." I sighed heavily and shook my head, "But it's not like a one night stand thing. I-"

John cut me off, "Look Garrett, if you aren't going to get on that, I will."

My palms grew sweaty and my heart spun in circle upon circle. "John-" I began, but couldn't finish. The knot in my throat grew thick, and I wasn't sure whether to be angry or just sad. The thing was, I couldn't be angry with John. In a way, he was right. Harley is going to get a guy eventually. And watch it not be me because I'm just a dope.

I licked my lips, "Yeah. Whatever."

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

School is a drag.

The first bell of the day has rung and it already feels like I've been here for about five hours. I sit down in English and place my head on the desk. Lucky for us, we have a substitute teacher today and our regular teacher didn't leave any lesson plans. Pat is sitting next to me, doing his History homework that he forgot to do this weekend.

I reach into my backpack and pull out my iPod, then I proceed to plug the headphones into my ears. Just as I'm about to hit "play" I hear a familiar name from behind me.

"I think I found a guy for Harley."

With one pull, I rip the headphones out my ears, too preoccupied with hearing the response to this particular statement to even feel the pain. It was Tessa who said it. Her and Carrie sat directly behind me (lucky me).

"Who?" Carrie.

"Marshall Huntington. Remember he was in our Science class last year?" Tessa said, smugly.

"Oh yeah! God, he is so hot." Carrie laughed.

"Tell me about it. Harley would be an idiot not to go for him. Plus, he just got out of a relationship with Marilyn Skyer, who has already had about-I don't know-three one night stands since the breakup."

"They are always on and off though. Chances are they'll be back together before prom."

"No, listen," Tessa started to whisper, "Whenever the two of them break up they go around sleeping with anyone they can. And then they date those people to make the other one jealous. I overheard Marilyn in the girl's locker room Friday saying that there is no way she is taking Marshall back until after Prom, that way he can see her dancing with another guy. And then, I heard from Stacy, who heard from Jenn, who heard from Frank Alser that Marshall wants a someone other than Marilyn to go to Prom with so he can make her jealous."

How reliable were these sources? Shit.

"That way, there's not only a chance that Marshall will be Harley's date, but he also might screw her. Actually, the screwing part is a lot more probable than the actual date." Tessa giggled.

"Oh my God!" Carrie chuckled softly as well, "Well, I think it's about time our girl pops that cherry of hers."

I was going to be sick.

"And Marshall is God damn hot too. She'll be thanking us! Plus, once people find out they slept together, every guy will want to go to Prom with her."

I couldn't hear this anymore. I was seriously going to throw up.

I looked over at Pat, still scribbling away on his homework. With one motion, I grabbed his pencil and chucked it to the front of the room. Surprisingly, it did exactly what I wanted it to. The pencil flung right into the substitute's back, who was writing something on the chalk board.

"Ow!" The old woman called out, placing her hands on her back. She whipped around, "Who did that!?"

Naturally, everyone in the classroom stopped talking, including Tessa and Carrie. "That's it! Silent period for the rest of class. One word and I'll write you a pass for detention." She sat down at her desk and watched all of us intently.

I let out a content sigh and peered over at Pat. He was giving me a look. I shook my head, "I'll explain later," I whispered.

"You!" The oldie croaked from the front of the room, pointing at me. "Get up here right now!"

Of course.

I walked to the front of the room, my classmate's eyes on my back, most likely laughing at me. My shoulders slumped forward and I mentally cursed myself. My Mom was going to be so pissed when she found out about detention.

"What's your name?" The Sub asked.

"Garrett."

"Garrett what?"

"Nickelsen."

I watched as she scribbled my name onto the blue detention pass for after school. I pointed to where she wrote my name. "It's an 'e' before the 'n,' not an 'o'."

She rolled her eyes, then scribbled out the 'o' and wrote an 'e'. "Room 609. After school."

I mumbled, "Got it," before walking back to my seat and sitting back down. To my right, Pat snickered, but I ignored him. If I had to face two hours after school just so I didn't have to hear about the girl I like having sex with some meat head and not me, then I was more than happy to do it.