Don't Give Up (On Me)

Thursday, three days before I’d be losing my boy to the wilderness. To be honest I was dreading him going. I was so close to calling Jared and talking him into calling the whole thing off, talking John out of it. I know I could sway Kennedy, easily. John had been okay so far, recovering after the panic attack Tuesday night. He felt incredibly bad about ‘ruining’ our dinner and locked himself in the music room all of Wednesday, only coming out when I got home from work so we could eat dinner together. Since this morning he’d thrown up four times, which meant the medication was still making him sick. Turns out I spoke to soon on that front, probably jinxing his positive progress with the manipulative pills. We didn’t even get to talk about his therapy session he had on Tuesday because of the lack of communication (due to the puking) and him becoming reclusive once more.

I’d called Dr. Adams this morning before my shower in hopes of applying for medication for John’s anxiety and panic attacks, but was denied as apparently it would make the side effects of the Xanax worse and only cause him more pain. So, he suggested that I keep doing what I was doing and keep calming him down- apparently it would help over time and he’d be able to calm himself down, which was beneficial towards his lifestyle changes.

So we’d started off on a somewhat-positive today, continuing as I took my shower…with him.

“John, we’re wasting water,” I groaned, trying to pull him away from me, even though my body was telling me not to.

“Not if we’re showering together,” he murmured, his lips on my neck.

“We’ve been in here for over ten minutes,” I stated, crossing my arms over my bare chest, the only way of blocking him that I had. “We need to get out.”

“Why? We’ve got nothing to do today-“

“Do you know how expensive our water bill is going to be?” I pushed.

He pulled away and sighed. “Y’know, for a twenty one year old you’re not exactly sex-crazed. Be thankful your sex-drive is working.” He scoffed, before stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel.

“That’s not even funny,” I retorted, shutting the water off and stepping out next to him.

“I found it quite humorous.” John said flatly, “which y’know, is surprising considering I’m depressed.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a towel, drying quickly before leaving the bathroom. I could handle the crude boy-jokes, but these ones? Ones that only mocked him and his disorder? No, I couldn’t handle them, they upset me. “Don’t, John.”

“Baby-“

“I said don’t,” I snapped, as I walked into our closet and got dressed, closing the door behind me for a minute’s grace. Sometimes I needed time from him, and if that meant hiding in our walk-in for a few minutes, so be it.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, knocking softly on the door as I got dressed. It was a Thursday today, which meant no work, which meant we were spending the day together, like usual. But right now I would rather be at the warehouse, locked away in my office working through the pile of intern resumes for interviews on Monday. “I pushed it too far and I’m sorry.”

“It’s a part of the condition,” I sighed, leaning against the door, closing my eyes slowly.

“What?” I heard him murmur. It’s almost as if we were in the same room, no wood separating us.

“This self-loathing, this kind of attitude towards yourself, it’s part of the condition that you have and I have to accept that, but it’s hard and you don’t understand,” I sighed, banging my head against the door. “I have to accept it, but it’s hard, John. I can’t stand to hear you speak about yourself like that.”

“C’m’outta the closet, babe.” He murmured.

I opened the door slowly, the small smirk on his lips that I was expecting to see. “That wasn’t even a funny joke.” I pouted.

“I know, but it got you out,” he mused, pulling me into his arms. “I’m sorry for being insensitive.” He said gently, his lips against my head.

“It’s not your fault.” I shrugged, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“It is, I’m the one with the stupid condition that keeps upsetting you all the time.” He mumbled, “give me the blame when it’s my fault, let me take it off your shoulders.”

That was definitely a productive lifestyle change and I was proud of him for making it, even though I wouldn’t tell him because I knew it’d only disrupt his progress.

“It feels much better.” I admitted quietly, my lips against his bare chest.

“Good. I want you to feel much better.” He murmured. “I’m gonna get dressed. What do you wanna do today?”

“I just have to stop by Tate’s to pick up extra work I didn’t have time for yesterday, it’s mainly just accounting and stuff, but we can grab lunch before I spend the afternoon doing it.” I suggested.

“You can spend the afternoon doing your work, but I’ll be sitting across from you distracting you.” He stated, kissing me quickly between words.

“Yes I know that,” I mused, kissing him back before pulling away for good. “Now get dressed, I’m hungry and you need to satisfy my stomach.”

“Oh me, huh?” he chuckled, heading into our wardrobe to get dressed. “Of course, woman.”

I rolled my eyes playfully before heading into the bathroom to do my hair and make-up while he dressed. Once I was done, I stood back and flattened my white lace dress out, heading back into our bedroom to find my converse sneakers.

“You look gorgeous,” John said nonchalantly. “As usual.”

I looked over at him to see him doing up his belt on his jeans and dropping his t-shirt over the top. Nothing special, but he still looked incredible, as per usual. “You look cute.”

“Oh yeah I know, I was just being polite.” He smirked, sitting down beside me on the bed to pull his shoes on. “Where do you wanna go for lunch?”

“Anywhere, you?” I asked, tying my shoe laces before standing, pulling him up when he too finished.

“Is that even a question?” He asked in disbelief.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Jimmy Johns?”

“Definitely.”

***

“Alright I’ll be right back,” I said, releasing my seatbelt as John left the car running.

“Yep,” John nodded, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel impatiently. He was either impatient or paranoid about something, I really couldn’t tell. “No prob babe.”

“You wanna come in? Say hi to Garrett?” I asked lightly.

John shook his head. “Garrett’s staying with his brother for a few days so he won’t be home anyway.”

Well Tate never said it got that bad. I decided against voicing my concern and got out of the truck, quickly heading to the front door of her possibly empty house. Garrett wasn’t even home? How long had he been gone for? Why hadn’t she told me about this? All of these questions filled my mind as I walked up to their front door, only being erased as my concern moved onto the fact that the front door wasn’t even closed, but slightly ajar. I frowned, before pushing it open.

“Tate? Tate why is the- oh my god!” I spun around immediately as I saw what I never wanted or ever thought I’d have to see.

“Oh my god, Leighton,”

I covered my eyes, not at all expecting to see my best friend half-dressed, underneath her best friend (and boyfriend’s best friend) who was also half-dressed and had his hand on her chest, like hers was…down…down his jeans in a highly inappropriate way for a girl who had a boyfriend.

“Leighton it’s not what it looks like,” Tate tried to convince me, pushing Pat away from her and standing up from the couch. “I swear to-“

“How could you?!” Were the first words out of my mouth, once I could actually get them to leave my mouth. It was a physical challenge to say anything to either of them. Pat. I looked at Pat and sent him the most coldest glare. “That’s your best friends’ girlfriend. I hope every time you touch her you see his face.” I spat childishly. “Every time you kiss your best friends’ girlfriend you see your best friend’s face staring back at you before he walks away for the last time ever-“

“Leighton!” Tate snapped, pulling a shirt over her head that definitely did not belong to her.

Pat stood there pathetically, not able to say a word. I think he was still in shock over me walking in on them about to do it for what I’m sure isn’t the first time.

“Really? You have nothing to say?” I scoffed, my eyes falling on the red marks on his neck and chest.

“Leighton, enough,” Tate warned. “I’ll get your damn file but just stop.” She hissed, before leaving the room to grab my file.

I crossed my arms across my chest as Pat stood there, waiting for Tate to get back and break this tension. No? I could do that perfectly well. “How could you?” I hissed.

He ran a hand through his long hair. “Leave it, Leighton, you don’t get it-“

“I don’t get it? You’re sleeping with your best friends’ girlfriend, what else is there to get?” I snapped.

“She…she needs me, okay?” He muttered, crossing his arms and looking away.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

Tate entered the room with my file and I took it without a word. I sent her one last disapproving look before leaving the house, closing the door behind me, considering they were too busy to do that
earlier.

I tried to compose myself before getting back to the truck, where I found John playing around with his phone.

“Change of plans, I won’t be able to annoy you this afternoon, the guys want to meet up for a last minute meeting about the trip before we leave on Monday. They want to leave it over the weekend so we can spend time with you girls before we have to leave you.” He explained, looking over at me. “Is that okay? We can still grab lunch.”

I nodded. “That’s fine, absolutely fine.”

“Thanks sweetheart,” He smiled softly, leaning over to kiss my cheek before pulling out of the driveway. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

I snapped out of it immediately, not wanting to bring too much attention to my current state of mind. I knew telling him something like this would only cause harm to his wellbeing, considering he’d be with the those two boys in very close proximity over the next week and he didn’t need personal distractions.

That’s it. I was calling Jac this afternoon to dissect the entire problem.

How could he? How could she?

***

“So are you going to remember to take your medication?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him as I took a sip of my soda.

“Of course,” he nodded, once swallowing a bite of his sand which. “You’ve practically drilled it into me.”

“Which is a good thing,” I nodded.

“Yeah whatever mom.” He scoffed playfully, taking another bite while I sat back and watched him, playing with his hand that rested on the table. We did that a lot for it not to be weird, me holding
or playing around with his hand as he ate with the other. There was something about intimacy that we needed.

I couldn’t get the image of Pat and Tate out of my mind and it was driving me insane. This was my time with John, my last few days before he’d be gone for a week, and I was spending it fretting over my best friend’s relationship, which seems to be falling apart at the seams.

“If you’re worrying about me, I’m going to be fine,” John mumbled, caressing the back of my hand with his thumb.

I looked up, my eyes connecting with his. I gave him a small smile before bringing his hand to my lips. “You know I’ll worry about you no matter what.” I said gently.

“You shouldn’t, it just makes me worry more and more about you, sweetheart.” He murmured, while

I pressed small kisses to his knuckles. “Y’know I was thinking about getting a new tattoo.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, “I’m gonna get ‘medication’ on the inside of my hand, so I never forget.”

I let out a laugh. “That was lame.”

“Wow sorry I’m not a comedian,” he chuckled, sitting back and taking both my hands in his. “One day
I’m gonna get an ‘L’ on me somewhere…or ‘Leighton’.”

I waited for the following laugh or joke to tell me he was kidding, but when that never came, a small smile spread across my lips. “Oh really?” I asked softly, more intrigued than before.

He nodded. “Possibly on my chest, or if I just get the letter ‘L’, it’ll be on my ring finger.”

“Hint, hint,”

He laughed (it was a beautiful laugh), “No keeping things from you, huh?”

“Never,” I gasped dramatically, before sitting back. “You’re doing well, babe. You’re okay?”

He hesitated for the slightest of seconds before nodding confidently. “I’m okay.”

That’s all I needed.

***

“You’re kidding me?!”

I shook my head viciously, sitting back in my seat at the kitchen table, across from Jac as we nursed glasses of red wine. “Not even- they were half naked on the couch for crying out loud!” I hissed.

She shook her head in disbelief, her long dark hair falling around her shoulders. “I can’t believe this, how could she do that to Garrett? What did he ever do to deserve that?”

“I have no clue,” I sighed, “he’s staying with his brother- that’s how bad things have gotten between them.”

“Shit,” she murmured, playing with the many rings adorning her skinny fingers. “That really sucks- for the both of ‘em, y’know? But I mean, Tate’s a good girl, so obviously something bad must have happened in order for them to fall apart this much.”

My mind flew back to when she told me about the pregnancy scare, and how he reacted to the point where she didn’t feel like she could even talk to him. I mean I could understand the lack of communication thing and how sometimes it was hard to do, but not to the point of cheating on the one you (supposedly) love.

“Things have been rough with them for a long time,” I spoke up, looking down at my hands. “She said she was losing that spark with him- she thought she was pregnant and he went off at her, telling her she was being stupid about it. He basically walked her right into Pat’s arms, because she spent the night with him and they talked through it all and she was okay.”

“So this has been going on for a while?” Jac asked.

I nodded.

“Shit. I…I feel sorry for her.” Jac admitted. “Now it just puts things into a new perspective.”

“But cheating is wrong- she’s cheating on Garrett with Pat of all people.” I stated, as if she hadn’t heard the first time.

“To be fair its Pat’s fault too.” Jac shrugged, “he’s screwing his best friend’s girl behind his back.”

“Oh it is definitely his fault too,” I nodded, “I just didn’t think that this would be something I’d ever see,” I admitted. “it’s surprising when it’s someone you’ve known for so long- I mean she straight up lied to me about her and Pat.”

“Come on babe, if you slept with Eric would you tell me?” She asked, testing me.

“Probably not,” I nodded.

“Well there you go,” she said, sitting back. “It’s not our business, but now that you’ve seen it, she’s made it your business. Only question is, where do you go from here?”

“What, you mean I have to tell Garrett?” I frowned, I couldn’t even tell John I spoke with his mother on the phone. It’s almost the same thing- AKA there was no way in hell I could do that.

“I think you have to talk Tate into telling Garrett.” Jac said more clearly. “It’s her issue but now that you know, it’s partly yours.”

“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath, pushing the file Tate had given me across the table. “I’m so mad at her for pulling me in-I mean as if I didn’t have enough to deal with already.”

“She should have closed the front door.” Jac muttered, shaking her head. “I mean if I was cheating on Eric with his best friend I would’ve closed the door.”

I let out a laugh. “John would’ve locked the door, you don’t have to worry.”

She kicked me under the table, shaking her head with a laugh. “Anyway, wait until she approaches you about it and go from there. Garrett may have been an ass to her but she’s still our friend and deserves to know the truth.”

I nodded, knowing she was right. She was good at sorting out problems. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” she scoffed, taking a sip of her wine. “So, how’s John going?”

“Alright,” I shrugged, my mood coming down as he drifted into my thoughts. How things had
changed, huh? “It’s just up and down, all the time.”

“He recovering from Tuesday?” She asked, “I read his post.”

I nodded hopefully. “We’ve gotten through that and our relationship is going okay, but there’s just hiccups along the way, really. He’s doing okay.”

“That’s good,” she nodded, “sorry, I know you get asked a lot.”

“It’s fine,” I shrugged, “I mean he’s my boyfriend, his problems are my problems.”

She nodded slowly, as if taking on my comment in order to critique it. “Yes that’s true, but it doesn’t
really seem that your problems are his problems.”

I knew what she was getting at, and I couldn’t help but defend him. “It’s not his fault. I don’t want him to become focused on me, he needs to focus on himself-“

“He’s twenty five years old and in a committed relationship, if he can’t handle that-“

“What, he should break up with me?” I snapped, my protective side coming out against my will. “I’m sorry we’re not all like you and Eric- we actually have problems from time to time.”

Definitely the wrong thing to say. We sat in an awkward tension for about thirty seconds before I apologized.

“I didn’t mean that,” I sighed, dropping my head back and running my hands through my hair in frustration.

“No you’re right,” she nodded, lifting her glass to her lips. “Me and Eric are good right now, something that’s taken a lot of working towards. Sometimes I get so caught up in him, I forget that other people work differently.” She mumbled, more so to herself.

Jac was always an honest person. She could accept the fact that she was wrong, just like she could fight for the fact that she was right. When it came to fighting with Eric, she never let him sway her into apologizing, she only did so if she thought she was wrong or knew it was the right thing to do.
She was still her own person even this committed relationship with Eric. I guess it was the maturity of turning twenty three this year.

I looked over at her. “You guys aren’t having problems are you?”

She shook her head quickly. “He’s…he’s perfect, which is kind of what scares me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Y’know what scares me? John putting his hands around my neck, or grabbing my wrist too tightly from anxiety, or breaking down in public. I would happily trade that with the fear of my boyfriend being ‘perfect’.”

She sent me a look, acknowledging my humor. “I’m freaking out over nothing. I’ve never been in a relationship this long for it to get so serious, it’s most likely nothing at all.” She scoffed, waving it off.

I eyed her suspiciously. “And maybe you need more wine.”

“More wine, that’s definitely it.”

***

That night we stayed in, as usual, watching some movie on the cable while we waited for the pizza guy to come with our pizza. Months and months ago we made Thursday the day we’d have take out for dinner. As of recently all of our old traditions fell to crap, along with us leaving the house, so I was somewhat impressed with the changes he was beginning to make, because I knew how angry he got with himself when he thought he was letting me down.

I sat beside him, my feet on the coffee table beside his, his arm around my shoulders instinctively.

“So how was today with the guys?” I asked curiously, wondering more so about Garrett.

“It was okay,” John nodded, “I think everyone’s just looking forward to getting away for a few days.”

“You guys just got back- surely they want to take a breather, right?” I asked, somewhat offended.

A small smile grew on my lips as he became unaware of my feelings towards the issue- that or he chose to ignore them. “I think we’re in a moment right now,” he chuckled, “everyone’s just so focused on this new album, they’re putting all of their energy towards it, and it’s a really good feeling. I think it’s just important to fuel that passion, y’know?”

I nodded as if I understood, and I did, I respected his musicianship and his loyalty towards the band and his friends, because I knew how good tour made him feel, but he was oblivious towards the way it was affecting his health, which wasn’t okay. “I know, and that’s good John, it’s really good for you guys to feel that way about the album and your band, but I don’t want it to harm you.”

“How can music harm me?” He asked lightly, giving me a funny look.

I raised an eyebrow. “It diagnosed you with depression.”

He shot me a look. “Leighton,” he warned.

I sat up, leaning against the back of the couch to focus on him. “I’m not being cold about it, I’m just worried, and you can’t blame me for that.”

He didn’t look at me, just kept looking forward. “You know how I feel about you worrying about me.”

“You know how I feel about you burning yourself out.”

“Would you stop?!” He groaned, dropping his head back in frustration. “I’m not going to do that to myself because I know it would piss you off.”

“It won’t piss me off,” I mumbled, running my hand through his hair to get him to look at me. “It’ll worry me even more, because I don’t think you’re taking care of yourself. You’re twenty five, John.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked defensively, turning his head to the side, looking me in the eyes.

God damn, those eyes. I could look at them for decades.

“I mean I know your music is the most important thing in your life, but it’s what wore you out the first time and there is a possibility of it happening again-“

“No the ‘you’re twenty five’ part,” he frowned, waving off what I’d just said. “Do you think…why did you say that?”

I thought for a second. Why did I say that? I don’t know, it was kind of just impulse. I shrugged. “I just think the way you’re treating yourself isn’t responsible, you’re a grown man, you’re not a kid anymore. You’ve got to act like a twenty five year old. You’ve got to put your health before your music.”

“They say artists are impossible to live with, y’know.” He mused.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re not even listening to me.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “It’s you.”

I frowned. “What?”

“You’re the most important thing in my life.” He said gently, reaching out to touch my cheek. “You’re the most important thing in my life, not the music.”

“You said it was the only thing that made you happy.” I mumbled, looking down at my hands.

“That’s because you know how to drive me up the wall,” he teased, coming in to kiss me. “But I need that.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, “you do, dumbass.”

He laughed against my mouth and a wave of relief washed over me. Yeah, he’d successfully changed the subject, but this was a good moment between us and I didn’t want it to disappear just yet. I wanted to savor this for as long as possible before he left.

“Pizza!”

***

I was dragging my feet out the door the following morning. John didn’t fall asleep until two AM so I was driving myself to the warehouse. Typical boyfriends, huh? He was up talking to me because he couldn’t sleep, not really taking into consideration that I was exhausted and needed to sleep because I had to work the next day. His rambled words were cute, but at midnight, they weren’t as appealing as they would have been a few hours earlier.

“Maybe we should get a pet…what do you think of a puppy? We could call it Axl, like after Axl Rose?”

“Hey babe, who’d you go to prom with? Did you do the whole ‘after prom’ thing? I chickened out and didn’t lose it ‘till graduation, I mean I’ve told you this before, but did you?”

“If you had to date one of the guys, who would it be? I reckon you’d date Austin if he wasn’t with Hils. All the girls reckon he’s good in bed because he’s a good kisser.”

“I think we should paint the house, like, the outside. What do you reckon?”

I suffocated him with a pillow at one thirty when he started discussing Spinal Tap’s many drummers.
I left him the following morning trying not to wake him because I didn’t need to come home to a cranky boyfriend the weekend before he left town. Typical girlfriends, huh? It took a lot to get out of bed without waking him up and kissing those tempting lips. He used to wake me up like that, knowing I wouldn’t be able to resist, even though if I tried to wake him up like that, he wouldn’t feel it because he slept that deeply.

I know, right?

When I got to the warehouse, everyone was waiting outside on the benches, reminded me that I really needed to get their keys cut. Today, even. I sent them all a look as I made my way up to the front door.

“Bout time,” Jack commented jokingly.

“I’ll get those keys today, I promise.” I groaned. “And it’s not my fault I’m late, I didn’t get to sleep until two am last night.”

“Alright we don’t need a play by play.” Lennon smirked, coming up behind me.

I turned around and smacked him on the arm. “That’s not what I meant, dickwad.”

“Okay, rude.” He scoffed, crossing his arms.

I poked my tongue at him before opening the door and heading inside, everyone following me in.

There was already a tension between me and Tate, but I wasn’t yet ready to address it. I didn’t even want to speak to her. “Alright I’ve gotta talk to you guys. There’s going to be a few changes.”

“Tim fired you?” Lennon mumbled.

“You wish,” I scoffed, dropping my bag onto his desk as they all took a seat. “No, he gave me the new line, so it’s mine. But because I’ll be taking on that job as well as this job, I’ll need an intern to help, so I’m going to be starting interviews next week to find someone the company can hire to help out.”

“We get a freshman?” Layla asked, over-excited.

“Yeah, so I don’t want you to scare him off,” I mused.

“He? Why not a she? We need a little office candy.” Elijah complained.

Lennon raised an eyebrow. “Sexual harassment and she doesn’t even work here yet.”

“It won’t be a she, I can assure you that much,” I said firmly, “I will not be subjecting a poor girl to you guys’ and your needs.”

“I think it’s just Elijah you should be worried about.” Layla mused.

“Jack’s taken,” Elijah coughed, unsubtly.

Jack looked up. “What? No I’m not.”

“It’s so obvious you guys are together,” Lennon nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile Tate back in silence.

“We are not!” Layla snapped.

“Alright guys!” I interrupted. “I don’t care about your private lives! There is no relationship crap talk in this building! What you do is your own business, don’t bring it to work.” I sighed, trying my hardest not to send an evil glare Tate’s way. She cowered under my look regardless.

Coward.

We all started our work, and I know I put the warehouse in a most likely bad working vibe, but I couldn’t help it. I was so mad at Tate and I couldn’t help myself. I know it was professionally inappropriate to be acting like this, especially because I was their boss, so I was going to have to tone it down or wait until we finished work to be a bitch.

Obviously I was joking about the latter suggestion, gosh.

I dropped my bag onto my desk in frustration and sat down, switching on my computer and getting started on my work. I really didn’t have the energy to be here today. Sometimes my office could be restricting of work and designing and it just stumped my creative process.

So what did I do when things like that happened? I counted on the people in my life to inspire me. I stood and lifted my bag back onto my shoulder, leaving my office.

“I’m gonna go cut your keys and then I’ve got some errands to run, so if you need me, call me.” I called as I headed for the door.

I got un unenthusiastic reply but left regardless, knowing they’d be alright later. I shot a few people a text and waited for a reply. As I headed out to my car waiting to hear back, my phone started ringing.
My heart started racing when I read the name that flashed on the screen.

Mama O

I bit my lip and wondered if I should answer it. About to press end, I remembered the scratches on his arms, and figured I should ask if she knew anything about it.

“Hello?” I answered wearily. I used to love to speak to this woman, but now…now it just felt like betrayal.

“Oh hello sweetheart, it’s just me,” She greeted softly. Such a motherly voice.

“Oh hi Jenny, what can I do for you?” I offered politely.

“Oh honey I just wanted to let you know I’ve talked John’s father into joining the family insurance once again. I know therapy sessions aren’t cheap and the both of you don’t have insurance and you shouldn’t have to pay for it if we have the ability to.” She explained, proving just how hard it was for her not to be a mother to John.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I mumbled, “if he found out, he’d know I told you about the therapy- he’d know I was talking to you, period.”

I think she was taken back at the fact that her own son told his girlfriend not to speak with his
mother. I would be too, so I felt her pain.

“Well he doesn’t have to know, hun.” She sighed.

“Hey Jenny, can I ask you something?” I asked, finding the courage to bring up the scratches.

“Of course darling, what is it?” She replied softly. Such a good mom.

“John…he’s been scratching himself in his sleep, or he’s been doing it subconsciously and-“

“On his arms?” She interrupted quickly.
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

She let out a sigh. “Oh darling, he used to do it when he was a little boy. It’s a bad habit that he’d do before he’d have a tantrum or start crying. He went through a stage when he was about seven to eight, where he would become very reclusive and quiet, and he wasn’t very happy at all.”

That explained so many things. Maybe it was something from his childhood- maybe that’s where the depression came from and it’d just gone into hiding for the past ten plus years and finally it’d come out again. It was something family/childhood related, which could be why he cracked at that family gathering a few months back.

“Is it coming back?” She asked sadly. I don’t know if she was sad because he’d been doing it again or he hadn’t told her about it, because he hadn’t been speaking with her.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. There was so much I wanted to ask her and John, but I knew it would probably just upset them. “Jenny what happened at the family gathering all those months back? I think that could have something to do with his depression coming back.”

She seemed to be taken back when I suggested the depression ‘came back’. “He wasn’t depressed as a child, Leighton, he just went through a stage.” She said firmly.

“A stage incredibly similar to the one he’s going through now.” I pointed out. “I just think it could relate to the stage he’s at now, and it could help him, talking about it.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have a clue why he hit Shane. Shane told him he was taking up piano lessons, just like John had when he was younger, and for some reason, it didn’t sit well with him. Mind you, he was very intoxicated at the time.”

Jenny was never fond of drunk John. Although that was more than what I was working with, it wasn’t a huge help. Maybe there was some underlying meaning as to why he hit his brother. It couldn’t possibly be over piano lessons. Maybe I’ll give a call to his therapist and get her to ask him about his childhood. Yeah, that seemed like a very good idea.

I thanked Jenny for her help and we spoke for a few more minutes before ending the call. Okay, so it was just a bad habit and wasn’t him self-harming himself. I looked down at my phone, feeling a little better with that conversation and even better when I saw Hilary had replied saying she had the day off and was sick of Austin and needed some girl time. Even if we’d spend the whole time talking about Austin, I really didn’t mind, just as long as I got my mind off of this whole John thing and the whole Tate and Pat thing.

We arranged to meet up in twenty minutes so before I made my way to the chosen café, I headed to the key cutting man and placed a request for five keys to be cut, handing over my warehouse key. With that done and ready to be picked up in an hour and a half, I headed to the café and found Hilary already inside, waiting at a table somewhere in the middle.

God she always looked so pretty, figures Austin couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Or lips, for that matter. She wore this long black maxi-dress with a leather jacket, looking girly yet cool and typically Austin’s type. She had incredibly long gorgeous blonde hair that she thrown up into a messy bun and the only make up she really wore was dark red lipstick.
I don’t get how anyone could look that fantastic in less than twenty minutes. It was kind of ridiculous, to be honest.

She didn’t wear a lot of jewelry, but always wore a necklace around her neck that on a simple gold chain, held an ‘A’, with a diamond on it. Austin always wore a dog tag with ‘Hilary’ inscribed on it.

I approached her and she stood, towering over me. She was as tall as Austin, both hitting six foot, while I stayed short at maybe five six. “For god’s sake woman, your hotness is ridiculous.” I scoffed, pulling her in for a hug.

“Oh like you can talk, Miss ‘I have a great rack’.”

Oh yeah, she also spoke like her boyfriend.

I blushed and rolled my eyes at her as we sat down. “Shut up-“

“No seriously,” she laughed, “your boobs are like, three times the size of mine.”

“That’s just because you’re basically flat chested.” I teased, kicking her under the table.
“My boy thinks it’s attractive,” she pouted.

You know those people that couldn’t pull an ugly face if they tried? Yeah.

“Of course he does,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully. “How is the sleazebag anyway?”

“He’s great,” she chuckled, looking over the menu in front of her. “We’re going pretty good.”

“That’s good,” I nodded, “you guys went through a bit of a rough patch last month, huh?”

She nodded, wincing. “That was a bad time, but we’re doing much better. Let’s not talk about that.” She said, shaking her head.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, looking over the menu also. I wasn’t that hungry (even though I hadn’t had time to grab breakfast) so I didn’t rush on a decision.

“Don’t sweat it,” she said, waving it off. “I’ll tell you what though, he was a real sweetheart the other day,” she gushed. “He took me out for lunch on Monday, right? And we were in some shoe store later and this little boy, probably about six, tripped over, and he had a fake leg-“

“Prosthetic leg,” I corrected, cowering when she glared at me for interrupting.

“Prosthetic leg,” she mused before continuing, “and Austin kneeled to help him up and was like; ‘it’s tough being a superhero huh?’ and the kid was really confuse so he was like; ‘you’ve got a bionic leg, so you must be a superhero, right?’ and it was so adorable because he called it his super leg and said that he was special because he had it and the smile on that little boy’s face was beautiful.” She cooed, placing a hand over her heart.

For fucks’ sake can they get any more perfect for each other? She was a kindergarten teacher so she had a soft spot for younger kids, meaning she melted when she saw Austin around little kids.

“That’s the cutest thing,” I pouted, picturing Austin talking to this little boy. He was typically a nice guy and pretty much perfect for Hilary. “You’re lucky y’know, he’s literally your other half.”

“I know, right?” She sighed. “I can’t wait until we get married and have kids of our own.”
“Well he’s twenty six this December, his clock is ticking.” I teased.

Hilary blushed. “Him? I’m twenty four next Jan, I want to be a young, hot mom.” She laughed.

“Oh as if you’ll never not be hot.” I scoffed, “Did you look at yourself this morning?”

“Must I bring up your ridiculous rack?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Sub-consciously, I pulled my denim jacket tighter around my chest. Yeah okay, I’d been given some nice genetics, but no one had ever made a deal about it before.

“You’re such a pervert.” I stated.

“As if, I overheard the boys talking about ‘em.” She chuckled, sitting back in her seat.

My eyes widened. “What?!”

She ignored my outburst as a waiter came over and asked for our orders. I told him a smoothie and Hilary asked for a coffee and a blueberry muffin, sending the fifteen year old boy on his way. It wasn’t until he’d walked away that she acknowledged my panic. “Oh yeah, Austin had the guys over a few months ago and I overheard them talking about all the girls. Eric said Jac was good at blow jobs, which I totally didn’t need to know, but John said you had a great rack. The guys all agreed of course.”

I blushed even harder knowing that the guys had discussed things like that. How had I not ever noticed them looking if they all clearly felt the same way? “Did they say anything about you?” I asked curiously.

She let out a laugh and nodded. “Austin was the only one to disagree, ‘oh no way man, small tits are sexier’.” She scoffed.

I couldn’t help but not laugh. “He’s such a typical guy.”

“Don’t worry hun, they’ve all obviously checked the other girls out too,” she chuckled, shaking her head to assure me.

I rolled my eyes but laughed with her. I can’t say I was completely surprised, I mean boys will be boys and what not. We had a good talk that morning, and the hours seemed to fly past us as we caught up, something we don’t get to do as much as I would like to. I had to eventually go back to work and to pick up the freshly cut keys, and although my mood was much better considering the state I was in before, I still felt pretty shitty when I didn’t even have a name to offer for the line.

I didn’t really interact with the others that much once getting back to the office, staying locked up in my office for the rest of the day to get more designs out. I successfully produced at least three more, but that was all I was able to do. I hated this lack of inspiration I was currently stuck in and was more than relieved when it hit six, allowing me to go home.

I needed this weekend with John, more than anything.