Here to Collect Your Heart

Chapter 1

It’s early afternoon and I’m in the kitchen in my pajamas, cooking grilled cheese sandwiches and listening to music. I dance around the cool tile floor, the few stray wisps of my hair, pulled back in a very messy bun, brushing my face as the spring breeze from the open window touches it. Flipping a sandwich, I snap my fingers and swing my hips around to the Adam Lambert song, singing to myself. I should probably hurry up because I’m expecting company and who knows when he’s going to arrive? Knowing him, it could be any second from now.

I’m just finishing up the last sandwich when footsteps come up behind me and hands grab my wrists, wrapping both sets of our arms around my waist.

“Hello, Patrick,” I murmur, closing my eyes briefly as he places a warm kiss in the crook of my neck. “Did you sleep well?” He nods against my shoulder. I can feel his chest and belly pressing into my back slightly and I push lightly back, bumping him backwards a little. He grumbles and I laugh and reach forward to turn off the blaring music.

“What are you making?” he asks, his voice still gravelly and low from having just woken up. It sends shivers down my spine and I take the last sandwich off the stove, placing it on the plate I’ve stacked high with the other ones.

“Caviar,” I say airily, reaching forward to turn off the burner. “Would you like some?”

Patrick chuckles, releasing his grip on me. “Wow, someone’s feeling sassy today,” he comments, sitting down at the breakfast bar. “Why so many sandwiches? There’s only two of us here, you know.” I place the hot, dirty skillet in the sink and wash my hands.

“Oh, Pete’s dropping by later. I guess he’s bringing his younger cousin, she’s apparently staying with him for a couple weeks while her parents are out of town. They should be here pretty soon, I don’t know exactly when.”

“Oh,” he says. I glance a look at him and my heart flutters. His eyebrows are raised, mouth slightly open, hair greasy and messy and sticking up in all the wrong places. His sideburns need trimmed and his glasses need cleaned and his shirt is old and wrinkled, and his feet are bare, sticking out of his plaid pajama pants. He couldn’t be any more perfect.

Of course, he would deny it and argue with me for years if I ever told him that. He’s so insecure that it hurts me; insecure about his timid personality (“I wish I could talk to people as easily as Joe, everyone loves him.”) and his performances (“How does Pete get so energetic while he’s on stage?”) and most of all, his body. Oh God, he hates his body. I can see why, I mean. But I like his body; it’s soft and comfy to cuddle with and I find it endearing. He doesn’t think it’s cuddly or endearing at all.

“Um, maybe you should go get in the shower, baby,” I suggest. “Lord knows when they’ll be here. You know how Pete is.”

He scratches his head and swipes a hand through his greasy hair, grimacing. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be quick, I promise.” He comes in to give me a small kiss on the cheek and I fling soapy dish water after him, snapping his butt with the wet rag I’m cleaning dishes with. He squeaks and runs upstairs, hands covering his victimized body part. I can’t help but laugh.

I finish washing the dishes and cleaning up my mess and put the plate of sandwiches in the over so they can stay warm, and then I run upstairs to get changed into actual clothes, because I don’t really think sleep-shorts and my brother’s Sleeping With Sirens shirt suffices as presentable garb. I change quickly, rearrange my hair into a slightly neater messy bun, and swipe on one or two coats of mascara, just so my face isn’t plain. I’m just putting socks on when someone knocks at the door. Patrick isn’t out of the shower yet so I race downstairs as fast as I can and let them in.

“Pete!” I say, his face greeting me when I open the door. I go in to hug him and he lifts me off the ground excitedly.

“Mackenzie!” He sets me down and turns to the tall girl behind him. She’s got at least two inches on my 5’4 self, with long, pin-straight, firetruck red hair. She has heavy fringe bangs that shade her eyes, which are pretty blue and lined in black liner and thick black lashes. Dark skinnies and a nondescript gray sweatshirt cling to her slender, almost bony frame. Gray classic skater Vans adorn her feet. “Kenz, this is Ariannah, my cousin. Ari, this is Mackenzie.” I smile and wave to her, and she reciprocates the action back at me.

“Hi, guys. Come on in.” I step aside so they can both come in. “Patrick’s in the shower, so he’ll be down here in a while. Lunch will be ready soon. Make yourselves at home, and Pete, please try not to break anything this time.” Ariannah’s gaze shifts to him curiously and he shrugs.

“It was just a vase,” he says casually. I snort and walk into the kitchen to gather up the rest of the lunch foods.

“Yeah, and it had flowers and water in it. You got nasty shit all over my floor, Peter.” He laughs and shrugs again, leaning back against the counter and grinning. Ariannah stands awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, her shoulders hunched and her hands clasped in front of her. I clear my throat and take the sandwiches out of the oven. Still warm, I note.

“Um, Ariannah, if you want to go watch TV or something in the living room then you can. Like I said, make yourself comfortable.” She blinks.

“Um, okay. Thank you.” And then she goes to the living room. When I don’t hear the TV go on I scoot closer to Pete and beckon him over to me. He complies with a concerned look on his face.

“Pete, is she okay? Is she usually like this?” Pete sighs and runs a hand through his floppy dark hair.

“She’s kind of, um, emotionally compromised, I guess. She just got out of the hospital a few months ago, failed suicide attempt. I’m kind of worried for her. I haven’t seen her eat more than a nibble in the week that she’s been at my place. Her parents are kind of, um, stressed. They’ve had enough of her. That’s why she’s with me.”

I furrow my eyebrows and frown, glancing into the living room. Ariannah is on the couch, sitting with her legs curled beneath her and her arms pulled close to her body, shoulders hunched inwards. She’s on her phone, though I don’t know what exactly she’s doing. It makes me sad to think that such a pretty, young girl could feel so terrible. I blink.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” I say as I pull out a platter of various fresh sliced fruits and veggies from the fridge. I try to grab the gallon pitcher of tea that I made earlier too but almost drop the platter in the process. “Ugh, some help, please?”

Pete laughs at me and grabs the pitcher, setting it down in the countertop next to the sandwiches and the fruit and veggie platter. I play with the frizzy hair around my face that refuses to be contained in my bun and lean back against the countertop, looking at Pete curiously. “What else do you guys want to eat?” Pete shrugs and I tell him to go in the pantry and grab something he knows that Ariannah likes. He complies.

Just as Pete disappears into the food closet, Patrick comes down the stairs in a simple gray t-shirt and jeans. His hair is damp and his sideburns are nice and trimmed I smile for no reason except that I love seeing him. Especially when he’s clean.

He comes to me and puts a quick kiss on my forehead before looking over the lunch selection.
“Looks delicious, baby,” he praises. I smile and thank him, just as Pete comes back out of the pantry. In his hand is a box of pancake mix and come chocolate chips and food coloring.

“Hey, Patty Cake,” he says to Patrick, who glares his hardest at him. “Kenzie, is this okay? She loves pancakes.”

I nod at Pete. “Of course, that’s fine.” Patrick knits his brow together.

“Who’s ‘she’?” he asks, confused. I hold up one finger and go into the living room to get Ariannah, who is still playing on her phone. I can see from here that she’s playing Flappy Bird and I wait to tap her shoulder until she’s finished. When the little bird goes down, I come up behind her and lean down, putting a hand on her slouched-over back.

“Ariannah?” She looks up quickly, her pretty blue eyes wide and surprised. “Lunch is ready.” Ariannah closes her eyes briefly and stands up, putting her phone in her back pocket.

“Okay,” she says quietly, and follows me out to the kitchen. Pete and Patrick have pulled paper plates and plastic cups out of the cabinets and are gathering up plastic utensils to eat with. Pete turns around when we come in and smiles.

“Hey Patrick, come here for a sec.” Pat turns around as well and smiles warmly when he sees Ariannah. “Pat, this is my cousin Ariannah. Ari, this is Pat, Kenzie’s boyfriend and my best friend.” Ariannah smiles awkwardly and shakes Patrick’s outstretched hand. I don’t miss the uncomfortable glance she gives him, and the way she wipes her hand on her jeans after he turns away. It’s only then that I realize exactly how skinny she is. I look at Pete and he looks back, his eyes sad.

“Um, Ariannah, do you like grilled cheese?” I ask. She hesitates.

“Yeah,” she says apprehensively. “It’s okay.” I nod.

“Okay, well there’s some sandwiches there and lots of fruits and veggies, if you want some. And Pete said you love making pancakes so I got some of that too.” She actually looks genuinely looked surprised then, her eyes glancing over to Pete, although I don’t know what emotions she holds in them.

“Um, awesome.”

I give her a plate and she puts a half of a sandwich on it, two apple slices, and a handful of grapes.
She gets a glass of water and sits down at the breakfast bar, watching with a dull disinterest as Pete, Patrick, and I put food on our plates. I sit next to her at the bar and the guys stand, leaning against the counters.

I try to strike up a conversation with Ariannah. “So, Ariannah,” I begin. “Are you still in school?” She nods.

“Yeah, I’m a junior.” My eyebrows raise.

“Wow, you look so much older.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.” She keeps glancing at Patrick and I don’t know why, but I’m getting curious and kind of uncomfortable. He doesn’t seem to notice.

We keep up a simple conversation going until Pete and Pat are finished eating and then I put a plan into action. I get up and go into the fridge to get some juice – which we don’t have – and then pull a disappointed face.

“Pat, would you and Pete mind running to the store? We’re out of juice and I’m seriously craving some right now.” Patrick nods quickly.

“Sure. Pete, you coming?” Pete nods as well.

“Thanks, guys. Ariannah, do you want anything?” She shakes her head. “Well, then. Bye, baby.” I give Patrick a quick kiss and usher him out the door, Pete following us. They leave and I return to Ariannah.

Now that it’s just her and I, it’s kind of awkward. There’s just a pregnant silence between us and it’s so uncomfortable that I squirm.

“So, Ariannah. You’re 17?” She nods. “I love your hair. Did you do it or did you go somewhere?”

“I had it done for me; I’ve gone red a few times and the first time I did it myself and it was a mess.”

“I wish I had the nerve to dye my hair. I’m just scared that I won’t like it and I’ll want to go back.” She smiles and looks down at her practically-full plate. “I wanted to try a super dark brown and get blackish highlights but I’m kind of a wuss.”

“That would look awesome on you, actually.” Her eyes are studying me, analyzing and thinking about what I would look like with dark reddish-brown hair. “I tried that last year and I loved it.”

“What’s your natural color?”

“Blonde.”

We talk for a long time, until we’re laughing with each other and having a good time being friends. I feel comfortable around her and I hope she feels at least a little more comfortable around me. I start putting the sandwiches away so they don’t get stale while we’re talking about cute celebrities and fangirling together, and she gets up to help me.

I ask her what her favorite band is. It takes her a while to respond but eventually she says, “Um, probably Three Days Grace. They kind of saved my life. I have lyrics on my ribs.” I raise my eyebrows, surprised.

“Tattooed?” I ask. She nods and pulls up the side of her sweatshirt to her bra. Words are written across her ribcage in a prominent, yet plain font. I read them aloud.

“’It’s not too late, it’s never too late’,” I read. I nod and she lets her sweatshirt fall down again.
“I’ve probably heard that song somewhere; it sounds familiar.” Ariannah shrugs.

“It saved my life. I don’t think I would be here if it wasn’t for that song.” She sighs wistfully. “I would have given anything to see them in concert before Adam left.”

At just that moment, the door opens and I hear Pete and Pat come in. They’re both carrying bags and I put my hands on my hips.

“How much did you guys get?” I ask. Patrick looks sheepish but Pete has no problem turning around and telling me what they bought.

“Um, we got your juice, and some tea bags, more pancake mix because you’re almost out, um, oh, and guac and chips!” I look to Patrick.

“And you allowed this to happen?” He blinks innocently, mouth curling in a sorry smile. I roll my eyes. “Remind me never to let you two go shopping together ever again.” With a grin I turn back to Ariannah. “Men,” I grumble to her. She laughs quietly.

Pete and Ariannah hang around for a while longer, until it starts to get dark outside, before they decide it’s time for them to go home. They say their goodbyes and just as they’re walking out the door I pull Ariannah aside.

“Hey, if you ever wanna talk about something you can always call me. Pete has my number, just ask him for it. It was nice meeting you tonight.” She smiles, a real smile for the first time tonight, dimples forming on her cheeks.

“Thank you so much, Mackenzie. I definitely will.” She hugs me and then follows Pete outside. After they’ve closed the door I turn to Patrick and smile tiredly. It’s almost 7:00 in the evening and having company over always wears me out.

I amble over to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, resting my head in the crook of his neck. He pulls me closer to him and we stand like that.

“That was fun,” I say against his warm skin. “Ariannah was nice.” He nods.

“Yeah.”

“Did Pete, um, explain about her to you?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Oh.”

We stay silent for a while longer, and my hands are rubbing up and down Patrick’s back and his hands are massaging my hip bones, until I finally get tired of standing and pull away.

“I’m tired. I think I’m gonna go to bed, you can join me if you want.” I give him a playful smirk and he turns a light pink color.

“Um, sure, I’ll be up there in a minute.” I grin and go upstairs.

Basically, things get interesting when Patrick comes upstairs. That’s all I’ll say. But afterwards, when I’m lying, quiet, in the dark, with only the sound of Patrick’s light breathing to keep me company, I think of Ariannah. I wish I could help her; she’s a good kid and I can’t imagine the emotional struggle she must be in right now.

I fall asleep curled into Patrick’s side, thinking of ways to help my young new friend.

~

Kenzie’s PJs – http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=117443036
Kenzie’s clothes – http://www.polyvore.com/htcyh_chapter1_kenzie2/set?id=117443467
Ariannah’s clothes – http://www.polyvore.com/htcyh_chapter1_ariannah/set?id=117443628
Ariannah's Tattoo - Never Too Late, Three Days Grace