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Outside the sun told me that the rest of Tempe was about to get ready for the day, but I sank under my covers whilst my alarm went off for work, hitting the snooze button enough times to shut it off completely. I heard Tayla stirring, the sound of the shower being turned on and shut off again – even the sound of the coffee machine beeping downstairs didn’t motivate me to get up. Daylight was persistent, however, a shaft of sunlight falling directly over my face, as if poking at me to get up. I burrowed under the duvet and ignored it.

A single sharp rap on my door made me groan, and Tayla only waited a second before letting herself in anyway. She marched over to the curtains and tugged them open, letting the daylight and harsh reality into the room. I was very late for work.

There was a clink of china as Tayla placed a steaming cup of black coffee on my bedside table, and then coldness around my legs as she ripped back my covers. I shrieked.

“Tayla!”

“I bought you coffee, shut up. So are you just not going into work today or—?”

I pouted at her and imitated a weak and pathetic cough. “I’m sick?” It came out as a question, and Tayla sighed, placing her hand on her hip to look extra disapproving.

“Love-sickness is not a real disease, I’m afraid. It doesn’t count.”

I pulled a face at her. “It should be,” I mumbled.

“Suck it up, kid.”

I gave her my best puppy eyes, sitting up straighter in my bed. “Can you call in sick for me, pleaseeeee?”

“So you can - what? Lie around in bed all day and be upset over the fact that Garrett hasn’t called you yet?”

“It’s been a week, Tay! He hasn’t called in a week! I was practically going to sleep with John and he hasn’t even bothered to talk to me about it.”

Tayla sat down on the end of my bed and patted my leg. “I don’t know what you expect, babe. Garrett’s a man – he doesn’t know how to react to these things. If Rhiannon’s already telling him to stay away, you looking like you’re about to jump into bed with another guy probably isn’t going to make him feel like he needs to talk to you. He probably doesn’t think you miss him.”

I groaned and cuddled down in my bed again. “Everything’s so messed up.”

“Plus, you kind of went wrong when you picked John to pull this little stunt with – anyone else and Garrett might have put up more of a fight, but Garrett and John have to get on to be in the band – so Garrett’s going to be telling himself to be cool with the idea of you and John, anway.”

I smushed my face into my pillow. “Why did no one stop me?” I mumbled into the cotton.

Tayla sighed. “You get stupid when you’re drunk.”

I didn’t even dignify her with an answer.

“Fine,” she said, sounding defeated. “I’ll call your work and tell them you have the flu or something. That gives you about three days off work and you have to promise me you’ll use these days to talk to Garrett, because moping around here is doing exactly nothing.”

Suddenly the urge to go to work became very strong. I swung my legs out of the bed.

“It’s fine, I’ll go to work, I’ll say I had an appointment, I—“

Tayla grinned wickedly at me. “Oh no you won’t. If you’re not going to work, then this is punishment. I’m not entertaining this little pity party any longer.”

“I hate you.”

She waved me off. “You’ll love me again in a couple of days, promise. If I go to work now, will you swear that you won’t just spend the day watching Netflix or something?”

I looked longingly at my laptop on my desk and my stack of DVDS next to it.

“Fine,” I agreed grumpily. “But how am I supposed to talk to a guy that’s been told to stay way from me?”

“You’ll find a way, darling. I have to go, I have a photo-shoot with Ben today. It’s going to be ravishing.” She gave me an exaggerated wink and then breezed out again, leaving my bedroom door to swing purposefully open.

I was left in the pit of blankets and cushions on my bed, wondering how on earth I was going to approach Garrett and what exactly I’d say.

Xxx

In the end I pulled myself out of bed and slipped on my favourite pair of jeans (Tayla complained they were more holes than material) and my blink shirt and a light cardigan. While I thought about what I was going to say to Garrett, I’d at least get out of the house. No way could I face him right away. I just didn’t know how to begin – or where to begin for that matter, so I decided I’d go wander around my favourite record store while I tried to figure it all out.

The bell above the door jangled as I walked in, and I was greeted with the familiar smell of old vintage vinyl, and Jimmy, the long-standing owner of the store, who looked up from the counter when I walked in and smiled.

“Well how about that? It’s been a while, Brandy.”

“Hey Jim, how’s business?”

His big white eyebrows furrowed, and he tugged on the tired old Metallica shirt he was wearing. “It’s been okay.” He shrugged and rearranged a stack of CDs on top of the counter before stepping out and pulling me into a hug. “Could have used your custom, ey?”

The store was only small, and Jim depended on it to make a living. I instantly felt bad. “Sorry Jim, I’ve been busy recently.”

“Sure, sure,” he nodded, “Ah to be young again…” he said wistfully. “Did you come here for anything in particular?”

I shook my head. “Naw, I’m just browsing.”

Jim looked at me like he understood, which he probably did. I’d been going to the same record store since I was sixteen and discovered my Dad’s old Beatles vinyl in the cupboard downstairs. I begged him to buy a player, which he eventually did, and ever since then I’d been adding to the collection, which we now shared. My best finds came from this place, but I also used to come here, just walking up and down the aisles for hours, sometimes not even buying anything, just to be surrounded by the music and find some calm. Being in the store always helped me think, maybe because I was so comfortable there.

“Well, okay. Call me if you think of something in particular,” he said gruffly, before moving slowly back behind the till.

I nodded and went straight over to the rock section, brushing my hands over my old favourites, which I’d already got of course; like Dark Side Of The Moon and Nevermind. Just knowing all that awesome inspirational music was right under my fingertips made me happier. I flicked through the name tabs, searching for nothing in particular, passing classic album after classic album - The Velvet Underground, Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones. In the chart section I hovered over getting the recent Arctic Monkey’s album, and eventually tucked it under my arm along with Alt-J’s album. I enjoyed mixing contemporary with classic, even if my Dad wasn’t so sure.

As I stood there ready to pay I realised I was just procrastinating talking to Garrett though, and I sighed, handing over the albums to Jim, already rummaging in my bag for my wallet.

“Find what you were looking for?”

“Yes, thanks Jim.”

“Really?”

I looked up from the bottom of my bag to find Jimmy looking at me, one bushy eyebrow raised.

“You know me too well,” I sighed.

“Too right, kid. Now what’s up?”

“Boy trouble,” I said, not wanting to get into it all with Jimmy. It was like talking to my grand-father.

He nodded solemnly. “Well whoever he is, he’s an idiot.”

I laughed, maybe a little hollowly. Maybe I was the idiot in this whole thing. “You’re probably right.” I said.

He looked at me sadly for a second. “You really care about this boy don’t you?”

I hesitated before nodding, pressing my money into Jim’s hands. “Yeah, guess I do,” I didn’t want to talk about it any further. Was I that obvious?

“Don’t be a stranger now!” he called out as I made my way out. I looked back over my shoulder, sending him a smile, only to walk straight into someone coming through the small glass door, making them let out an ‘oof’ of pain.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-“ I began, before I recognized the person standing in front of me, now clutching his stomach from where I’d managed to elbow him. Garrett. It was his favourite record shop too, of course. Of course it did help that it was the only decent vinyl store in the whole of Gilbert, Scottsdale and Tempe. He was dressed in a red and green plaid shirt, rolled up to the elbows, black wife-beater underneath, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His auburn hair fell into his eyes as he looked at me, evidently shocked to see me too. But he looked good. Really good. Like suddenly there’s a whole flock of butterflies in my stomach kind of good.

“Garrett! I err, I didn’t know you’d be here, promise, I…” I ended up rambling. Any idea of what I actually wanted to say to him flew straight out of my head, completely vanishing when I looked at his eyes, wide and blue, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

“Brandy, it’s fine. I haven’t like…taken out a restraining order or something.”

I knew it was a joke but still it made me flinch. He might as well have done.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry, I should have thought you might be here,” I replied flatly.

“It’s a record store, it’s a free country, chill Brandy.” He looked excruciatingly uncomfortable, his hands shoved into his back pockets. I wanted to melt into the floor, or something.

“Right, sorry,” I apologized again.

There was beat of silence and awkwardness settled over us, making me cringe, until Garrett motioned towards the bag I was holding.

“So, what did you get?”

“Oh, umm, the new Arctic Monkeys album, and Alt-J. Just to piss off my Dad. You know he hates me adding new stuff to the collection.”

Garrett chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Still, nice choices.”

“Thanks.”

Another awkward pause in conversation. I looked to the door, wondering what would happen if I just slipped past him and pretended like this whole encounter hadn’t happened.

Garrett saw me looking though, and sighed, dragging his hand out of his pocket and catching my wrist to get my attention. His fingers were cool against my skin, and the contact made me jump.

“Look, this is getting ridiculous. I miss you, B. Can we just forget everything for today? Hang out like we used to?”

My heart fluttered, just a little bit. He was looking at me so earnestly, like he was truly tired of everything, like I was too.

I narrowed my eyes. “What about Rhiannon?” I asked slowly.

He shrugged, quickly, like he was trying to shake the subject off. “Let’s pretend there is no Rhiannon for today, yeah? Just me and you, okay?”

A part of me was saying no, that we couldn’t just fix our problems by ignoring Rhiannon and the shit she had caused, but a larger part of me so desperately just wanted to go right back to easy conversation and movie nights and 2am conversations with my best friend, and here Garrett was, offering a slice of just that.

“Okay.”

Garrett’s eyes widened like he didn’t think I’d actually agree, and then his face split into a wide goofy smile.

“Okay! What do you wanna do? Where do you wanna go?”

The enthusiasm suddenly bursting from him made me smile and I lifted my carrier bag and jiggled it a little, smirking. “Well, I kinda wanna drop these back home? You can come with and then we can decide?”

Garrett grinned. “Tight! I’ll follow you in my car.”

He practically bounded out of the store and I stood in the doorframe for a second, trying to contain my cheesy smile, shaking my head both at him and myself. The prospect of even just a day with Garrett, no drama, made it hard to contain my smile. And there I was this morning, ready to burrow my head under the covers and wish the world away…. Thank God for Tayla’s intervention.

I called out a goodbye to Jim over my shoulder again. He was sorting the vinyl in the vintage section, and I offered a little wave. He chuckled and winked at me, looking out the window to where Garrett was climbing in to his car, parked on the sidewalk.

Oh so I was that obvious, was I? Brilliant.

“Don’t,” I warned him, already laughing at the teasing expression on his face.

“Aww, I’m saying nothing. Apart from this – maybe he’s not so blind as I assumed.”

I rolled my eyes at his cryptic message, so like the record store owner who loved to appear wise and perceptive, whether it was about people or music.

“See you later, Jim.”

“See ya, Brandy.”

I strolled out into the road, my bag swinging. Garrett was sitting in his car, nodding along blissfully to something playing on his stereo. His hair was flopping everywhere, and he looked up and grinned sheepishly as I crossed the road to my own car. I giggled and climbed in. I turned my radio on and it automatically tuned to the local rock station. The sounds of Springsteen and ‘Dancing In The Dark’ immediately filtered through the speakers and I smiled. Mystery solved. Nobody could deny The Boss, especially not Garrett.

I sang along all the way home, winding down my window and yelling out the lyrics. I was pretty sure I could hear Garrett’s voice from the car behind me, too.

Xxx

Garrett readjusted himself of my bed; his hands behind his head, pushing himself back against my headboard, and closed his eyes.

“Go on, put the record on,” he said.

“Lazy,” I muttered, and Garrett made a small sound of protest.

“It’s part of the listening experience. I haven’t heard AM on vinyl yet! I need to be ready.”

I rolled my eyes and let the needle fall on the record, hearing the familiar crackle, before the first strains of ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ started. The jaunty guitar refrain flowed into the room, and Alex Turner’s voice, slinky and smooth washed over us both. I collapsed beside Garrett, squeezing my eye shut too. There was just something about listening to a record like that, shutting off all your senses, almost absorbing the music through your pores. It was fantastic.

There was no denying that the album was great; I knew that before I bought it, but lying there next to Garrett, only focussing on the sound of the record player, the lyrics Turner was crooning, soft and sultry were making me squeeze my eyes shut tighter. They were just too close to home.

'I’m sorry to interrupt, it’s just I’m constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you.
I don’t know if you feel the same as I do, we could be together, if you wanted to…
Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new'

I was trying so hard not to roll over and try and gauge Garrett’s reaction, whether the lyrics were even registering with him other than pretty poetry. Eventually I cracked an eye open, to find Garrett staring up at the ceiling, his fingers curled into his fists on the bed next to him. Maybe it was reminding him of Rhiannon.

“You alright?” I asked quietly.

He snapped his eyes over to me, almost like he’d forgotten I was there. “Yeah, yeah…Good album.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. There was silence as the record took over again.

Eventually I got up and took the needle off the record gently and slipped the vinyl back in its sleeve. Much of the songs were written the same way, sexy but tentative, all about an unrequited love, and I wasn’t sure I could sit through the whole album and not go silently mad. Garrett looked at me curiously as I packed it away.

“I was getting restless, it’s a nice day outside,” I explained lamely.

“You wanna go outside?” Garrett arched an eyebrow at me. “What, you wanna go hiking?” He chuckled, knowing full well that I hated walking and hiking and anything of the sort. It was sweaty and gross, and not in the ‘I feel like I’ve achieved something” way you got after going to the gym. It was just gross, plain and simple.

“No, you idiot. Of course not.”

“So?”

“So, you pick something to do.”

He fell back against my pillows and hummed to himself. “Hmmm, what’s the time?”

I glanced at the alarm clock on my bedside table. “One fifteen.”

“Lunch,” Garrett said firmly. “We have to go get lunch.”

“Alright!” I swiped my sunglasses off my dressing table and looked at him expectantly. “Where to homie?”

“In-n-Out!”

How stupid of me to even have asked, really. Thankfully there was one in the centre of Tempe, about a five-minute drive back into the centre of town.

“Come on then, you goof.”

Garrett bounded off my bed.

“I’ll drive,” he said.

“You’ll also buy my burger, right?” I teased.

“Of course, babe.” He winked at me and swept out of the room, skipping down the stairs. I didn’t expect him to agree. I normally insisted on paying for everything myself, partially defending my own independence, and secondly because it was just easier to keep track of my expense that way. How very adult of me. This had never bothered Garrett – if we had to, we split bills halfway and even when he offered (rarely) I always said no. What changed?

I trailed after him, wondering what had been bothering him earlier, on the bed, and marvelling out how he could go from extremes so quickly, running over the whole day so far in my mind. Frankly, it was enough to give a girl whiplash.