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Tick tock. 10am on Thursday morning. Tayla had left for work already. I still had the day off to make my ‘flu’ seem realistic, but I had zero plans for the day, since Garrett had rushed home to see Rhiannon yesterday, and I’m wasn’t sure where that left us. Hence, I was still in bed.

I pushed my laptop away from me, fed up with seeing the same people post statuses on Facebook and looking at couple’s sickeningly cute selfies on Instagram, and forced myself downstairs. Waffles. That was what I needed. And then I’d think about phoning Garrett.

I made them syrupy, just how I liked them, and sat with my phone in my lap, debating what I’d say to Gare while I ate. ‘Hey Garrett! Lie to your bitch of a girlfriend and come hang out today! I took time off work for you!’ How about no.

I was just shovelling my last forkful in when my phone began to vibrate in my hand. I fumbled with the unlock key and answered.

“’Llo?” I was trying to speak around a mouthful of food. I wasn’t very successful.

“Are you eating?” John sounded amused. I swallowed hurriedly.

“Not now, sorry. You okay?”

“Are you at home?”

I frowned. “Yes, why?”

“Oh good. I’m coming over,” he answered shortly.

“Huh? John? Are you okay?”

He laughed. “I’m fine. Just wanted to see you. That a crime?”

“I guess not.”

“Well, I’ll see you in a few, Brandy.”

I just had about enough time to shower hurriedly and throw on a shirt, some jeans and a flannel, and dust my face with some minimal make up, before the doorbell was ringing and John was standing outside, grinning lopsidedly with me.
He sauntered inside when I opened to door and wrinkled his nose.

“Is that waffles I can smell?” he asked hopefully.

I smiled. “Breakfast. Sorry, I ate them all.”

“Dang it.”

I took him through to the living room and perched on the couch, looking at him curiously, wondering why he was here. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to tell me, though, he just settled himself down next to me, one ankle resting on his another knee, looking utterly comfortable.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home.”

I laughed. “Ah, I have the ‘flu’ you see.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t look very ill.”

“No, I’m not, don’t worry, not about to pass on a disease. I’m skiving off work. It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got nothing but time, darlin’”

His little smirk amused me, and I ended up telling him all about what happened with Garrett the day before, about his Mom and avoiding his family, and John’s frown got deeper and deeper until I finished. Afterwards he shook his head, as if in disbelief.

“That dude has got to sort out his life. I mean, I’d talk to him about it, but the way he reacted to Kennedy I’m not sure I can do it without him blowing up in my face.”

I nodded and shrugged. “I figure I’ve just got to leave him to it.”

John shook his head again. “I’m so annoyed at him for you, Brandy. I wish I could do something to help.”

“It’s cool, John-oh, don’t sweat it. Just because I like him doesn’t mean my feelings automatically deserved to be returned. It just sucks ass.”

John chuckled at that, finally allowing himself to smile. “Hey, Brandy, you know you listened to Visions the other day?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?”

“You make a really good sounding board. I’ve written this new song, and I want you to hear it. Tell me what you think. I don’t know – I just really value your opinion right now.”

“So you didn’t come here just for the waffles?”

“I’m afraid not, but I wouldn’t be adverse to some, you know.”

I laughed. “Go get your guitar. Let me hear it.”

John grinned at me and pulled his long lanky frame off the couch, returning a minute later with his acoustic in his hand. He settled himself on the couch and started to tune it, testing the strings every couple of seconds. I set a glass of water down on the coffee table and sat down opposite him, looking forward to hearing him play. I was sure it would be beautiful, but I wasn’t sure what kind of message it would carry this time. John’s songs always came from somewhere deep inside him – sometimes just by listening to the lyrics you could feel like you were intruding on this thoughts or something. I was both intrigued and kind of cautious.

John gestured towards the water. “You got anything stronger?” he joked weakly.

“There’s some Jack’s in the cupboard, but I’m sure you can do it without. I’m sure it’s a great song John,” I tried to reassure him. “What’s it called?”

“Hannah Begins,” he answered, beginning to test what I assumed was the opening cord. I pause.

“Hannah?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, it’s about Hannah. I was thinking about her last week, and it must have been two am or really late anyway, and I just got this weird urge to get up and write out the lyrics on my phone. And the next day I picked up the guitar and the whole song just flowed out of me. And it’s about Hannah. It’s the first song I’ve written about anybody but you know who in a long time, and I thought about making it more generic, but it just didn’t fit. Her name somehow just sort of insists on being there, and I’ve never had that before. I mean you can’t count ‘Jenny’ can you?”

“No, you can’t,” I answered quietly. The fact that John had written a song about Hannah was huge. This had to mean something.

John slipped his phone out of his pocket and placed it on the coffee table.

“I’m trying to get a demo. Can you hit record?”

I nodded and John took a deep breath, before a focussed calm washed over him, which I had only seen him possess when he was playing music. I pressed record. The intro was a set of beautifully simple minor chords, but as soon as John started to sing I was knocked speechless, unable to concentrate on anything but the story he was spinning with lyrics that sounded as if they had been wrenched from the back of his mind into the open.

‘We're always changing
It does not bother me to say this isn't love
Because if you don't want to talk about it, then it isn't love
And I guess I'm going to have to live with that
But, I'm sure there's something in a shade of grey or something in between
And I can always change my name if that's what you mean

My friend assures me "It's all or nothing"
But I am not really worried, I am not overly concerned
You try to tell yourself the things you tell yourself to make yourself forget
I am not worried
"If it's love", she said, "then were gonna have to think about the consequences"
She can't stop shaking and I can't stop touching her and.....

This time when kindness falls like rain
It washes her away and Hannah begins to change her mind
"These seconds when I'm shaking leave me shuddering for days" she says
And I'm not ready for this sort of thing

But I'm not gonna break and I'm not going to worry about it anymore
It seems like I should say "as long as this is love..."
I am not worried, I've done this sort of thing before
But then I start to think about the consequences
Because I don't get no sleep in a quiet room and...

The time when kindness falls like rain
It washes me away and Hannah begins to change my mind
And every time she sneezes I believe it's love and
Oh lord.... I'm not ready for this sort of thing

She's talking in her sleep
It's keeping me awake, and Hannah begins to toss and turn
And every word is nonsense but I understand and
Oh lord... I'm not ready for this sort of thing

Her kindness bangs a gong
It's moving me along, and Hannah begins to fade away
It's chasing me away
She disappears and
Oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing.’

After he finishes I have to remember that his phone is still recording and I shut it off hurriedly and then continue to stare dumbfounded at John, who is sat with his acoustic in his lap, looked stunned at himself, to be honest.

“You wrote that?”

“Yeah.”

“You wrote that for Hannah?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Shit, John…” He looks up at me, alarmed, but I shake me head. “No, I just… shit. That’s the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard. Is that how you feel? About her?”

“Yeah. Yeah I think I do.” He looks up at me and pulls in a deep, shuddering breath. “I mean what’s love anyway? I used to think it was what I had before, but I don’t know what that was. It wasn’t love. Love isn’t supposed to hurt that way. Love is raw, sure, but it should ache, not burn, and I don’t know…. Love should be steady, it should be kind. And god knows Hannah is all those things. God knows Hannah is the best thing that ever happened to me. And I was lying to myself when I said I didn’t love her – I just didn’t want to get into that shit again. I spent so much time focussing on my past relationship…it was like, she’s unattainable now, and if she’s unattainable I can’t get hurt. I’m not opening myself up to that kind of pain again. Self preservation, you know? But it doesn’t work, and I was just being stupid. With Hannah… it’s real - and I’ve fucked it up. Again. Like I always do. I’ve fucked it up.”

His head dropped into his hands, his fingers clutching and pulling at his hair and he looked so utterly hopeless that I could feel myself beginning to cry. When John looked up his eyes were shining too, so I crawled over to him and curled myself around his scrawny side, trying to comfort him wordlessly. I just didn’t know what to say. What do you do when someone spills their guts like that?

John just pulled me closer until my arms were wrapped around his side, my head tucked under his chin. I pretended not to notice when I felt the wetness from his tears dampen my hair. I just kept on holding him and hoped it would be enough for now. After a while his panicked breathing evened out to a steady rise and fall. We didn’t talk – words seemed pointless, and eventually we must have fallen asleep, curled into each other like goddamn survivors on a life-raft.

Xxx

The slamming of the front door woke me up. At first I thought it was Tayla, but the usual click of heels on the wooden flooring didn’t follow. I was still half asleep, stuck in the vivid dream I’d just had – one where my Mom was there, cooking dinner in the kitchen, and singing along to her favourite album. The footsteps in the hall padded nearer and I lifted my head from the pillow – slowly realising that it was in fact John’s chest and he was still asleep.

“Mom?”

I didn’t know why I said it. It wasn’t as if it was going to be her. Some part of the dream must have still been with me, and I was disorientated and confused. The door to the lounge swung open slowly and Garrett stepped into the room, his eyes landing on the couch to where I was wrapped around John still. His cheeks flared red.

“Hi,” he said softly. “I didn’t know you had company…”

I pushed myself off of John as carefully I could and rubbed the grit from my eyes. Garrett was still hovering by the door.

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” I asked, frowning. Didn’t his girlfriend prohibit these kind of things?

“Yeah. I, uh, let myself in.” He held up the key that I’d given him ages ago when we moved in, to use in case of emergencies or for when Tayla and I were away. I raised my eyebrows at him. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

It was sat on the coffee table in front of me, obviously set to silent because as soon as I unlocked it the screen piled up with texts and missed calls.

“Right, I was asleep. Sorry.”

Garrett nodded, his eyes sweeping across to John again, who incredibly was still dead to the world. The angle of his arm folded across his stomach made it obvious he’d been holding me as we slept, and the way his shirt was rucked up at the side where I’d been curled up looked kind of incriminating. I felt myself blush and decided John needed to suffer in the situation with me too. The questions Garrett was dying to ask were almost tangible.

I prodded him in the stomach gently, and amazingly that was enough for his eyelids to flutter open. Trying to wake Garrett up was like trying to wake the dead sometimes – utterly impossible. John, however, took a second to figure out where he was and smiled at me when he did.

“Shit. We fell asleep?” His voice was raspy, and to another person perhaps it might’ve sounded sexy, but I was just worried about him.

“Yeah, umm, Garrett’s here.”

I looked over at the doorway where Garrett was still standing. John tensed beside me.

“Hey, man.”

“Hey. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were here, I didn’t mean to barge in or anything-“

“Nah, it’s cool. I should get going.”

I shot John a look, wanting him to know that he shouldn’t leave just because Garrett was there, but he looked at me steadily, telling me that he was fine.

“Thanks for….everything, Brandy.” He leaned in, and to my surprise, pressed a cool kiss to my forehead. “I’ll text you later.”

He picked up his acoustic from where it was propped up against the couch, and gave Garrett a small smile as he left. I stared after him until I heard the front door close and the sound of his truck revving up in my driveway.

Garrett sat himself down. “What was all that about?”

“Nothing, he just came over and we fell asleep. It happens.”

“So you’re telling me that was nothing?”

I sighed, pulling a hand over my face. “He’s going through a rough time Gare. You know that as well as I do. I’m just trying to help.” Garrett looked like he wanted to say more, but thankfully he didn’t. “Not that you’re unwelcome or anything, but why are you here?”

“Fight with Rhiannon,” he shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you about it but you weren’t answering your phone and I know you’re off work so I just came over and, yeah.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m okay now. It’s not worth it, it’s just stupid.”

I glanced at the time. “Well it’s four o’clock, and I haven’t had lunch….” John and I must have been out for a while.

Garrett jumped up. “I’ll make you some!”

“You what?”

“I’ll make you some. What have you got?”

“I think there’s some pizza in the freezer. You can shove that in?”

“Tight!” He bounded into the kitchen and I head the rattling of plates and the freezer door swinging shut, the hiss as the oven was switched on. So Garrett was making me lunch. Ok, cool. Weird, but cool.

He came back in, looking absurdly pleased with himself and collapsed back next to me. It jogged me as the couch evened up our weight again, and for some reason it triggered a yawn. Garrett looked at me amusedly.

“You can’t still be tired?”

I blushed. I really wasn’t helping the whole ‘we did nothing’ thing. In truth I’d just had a horrible night’s sleep, thinking about my Mom and Garrett.

“Little bit,” I admitted.

Garrett laughed and leant backwards into the couch, holding out his arm as an invitation for me to snuggle in to his side.

“The pizza takes half an hour. You can sleep till then.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure? You won’t be bored?”

“Nah, it’s cool. C’mon sleeping beauty.”

I used the fact that I had to stifle another yawn as sign I might as well take Garrett up on his offer. There was plenty of room on the couch, but he seemed to want me to continue my habit of using people as pillows, so I pulled myself closer to him and moulded my body around him. He was softer than John, less lanky, and his heartbeat somehow was more familiar under my ear. His fingers in my hair were comforting rather than restless and his arm around my back felt more like protection that someone trying to anchor themselves to life. I was comfortable. I was happy. I was out like a light.