Scribbles of a Broken Heart

Garrett’s blue met mine before he quickly ran back upstairs. I heard I door slam shut shortly afterwards.

A flushed smile played across my face as that moment permanently embedded in to my mind.

“And what did you see?” Ms. Templeton pried.

“Sexy. Abs.”

“I never took you for the physical type, Constance.”

“Why reject the added bonus, Ms. Templeton?”

He came down about fifteen minutes later; showered, groomed, and fully clothed. By then the four adults were chatting at the kitchen table while me and Stacey were on the family room couch, watching the Disney Channel.

“Do you watch Disney Channel?” Stacey looked up at me with huge eyes.

“Yeah, I watch it all the time,” I lied with enthusiasm.

“Really?! What’s your favorite show?”

“Um…” I quickly tried to think of a Disney show that wasn’t too pathetic for a thirteen-year-old
to watch, “The Suite Life of Zack and Cody?”

She practically screamed, “That’s my favorite show too!”

She started to jump up and down and was about to land on me.

However, to hands grabbed her by the waist before she lost her balance. That figure replaced her spot on the couch, a bouncing Stacey sitting on his lap.

“Hi, I’m Garrett.”

“Constance, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I would shake your hand or something but I’m pretty tied up with this pink blob,” he joked around, referring to his little sister.

“Hey!” she yelled, “I’m not a blob,” she disagreed while trying to whack him in the face. Poor girl, her arms couldn’t reach.

Garrett let out a low chuckle, “So you’re our neighbors?”

“Yeah, we live next door. It’s the white house to the left of you, if you’re facing the street.”

“Oh…so how old are you?”

“I’m thirteen but my birthday’s next month, so I’m practically fourteen.” I’m glad that I was never one to be shy around new people, “You?”

“I’m fourteen.”

“Are you in ninth grade?”

“Yep, I’m starting St. Joseph’s tomorrow.”

“Sweet, I go there to. We’ll be in the same grade.”

“How much school have I missed?”

“Only a week, so no biggie.”

We didn’t talk for a little, I was waiting for him to start the conversation back up.

“Are you into sports?”

‘Was that really the best he could come up with?’ I thought.

“I swim, why?”

“Your body looks a bit toned.”

I smiled at the compliment and looked over at him, “How ‘bout you?”

“Soccer and swimming, why?”

“’Your body looks a bit toned’,” I mocked.

“Only a bit?” he faked being offended.

I pretended to scan his body as if to make sure, “Only a bit,” I lied.

“You’re quite forward,” Ms. Templeton observed.

“We were barely flirting!”

“Do you usually flirt with strangers?”

Why was she acting as if I were some sort of slut? It was her disapproving that made me tell the following lie, “If they flirt back.”

Truth was, I didn't even have that much experience with boys back then. So if what I was saying to Garrett then was considered flirting...I wouldn't have known it. I was only saying this because her disapproving tone was getting on my nerves. So, I feigned the
shallowness.

”Is St. Joseph’s nice?” He changed the subject.

“It’s okay, the people are fun and lunch isn’t too crappy.”

“Isn’t it a new school for you too?”

“Yea, in freshman year, everybody is new so you won’t exactly be ‘the new kid’.”

“Nope, I’ll be the ‘sexy new kid’.”

“Ew…cockiness is not attractive.”

“Then I guess it’s something else that makes you so striking.”

“It seems that Garrett was quite forward as well.”

“I would agree if I followed your definition of forward.”

I think she was getting annoyed with my snide remarks, “What happened next, Constance?”

“Let’s skip ahead to the next day, his first day of school at St. Joseph’s High School.”

My parents and Garrett’s parents decided that Garrett and I would walk to the bus stop
together for the rest of the year. It wasn’t like I minded though; it only meant more time to see him. However, I knew that my parents agreed to it because they thought I needed more protection as a girl.

As I knocked on their front door, my mind wandered to the girls at school. I knew that they would be all over him; I wanted to see what his true colors were. Many people acted differently at school than they normally would, and I wanted to see what kind of person he
was.

Garrett answered the door in a uniform similar to mine with a few minor changes; khaki pants, white oxford shirt, and a burgundy and black striped tied complete with black, shiny dress shoes.

“Aww!” I said just to bug him.

“Shut up,” he scowled. “You’re wearing a uniform too.”

“Yes, but I make it look cute,” I jested.

But, he replied with seriousness, “That you do…”
When we stepped into the bus all movement ceased. Eyes followed him as we walked towards the back; those same stares turning in to looks of hate as he sat next to me. The first noise to return were dozens of hushed whispered exchanged between girls from seat to seat.

“It looks like you won’t have any trouble making new friends,” I muttered as the bus veered to its next stop.

“Eh, I’d rather have a few true friends than a bunch of fake ones.”

“Oh the clichés…”

“I’m being serious!”

I lightly laughed, “I believe you.”

“Good.”

We shared a pleasant smile before being interrupted.

“Hey, are you new here?” A junior girl asked him, a finger hanging from her teeth flirtatiously.

“Yea, this is my first day.”

“What grade are you in?”

“I’m in ninth.”

“You’re a freshie?” Her face contorted slightly.

“…Yea,” his voice slightly annoyed.

“Oh,” she said with disgust, “Hope you make friends.” She went back to the front.

I had to bite my tongue from laughing.

“Is every girl at school that bad.”

“No…they’re worse.”

“Yay,” he replied with sarcasm.

I scoffed, “As if you aren’t used to this kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?”

I knew he must have been playing dumb, “You know…girls constantly throwing themselves at you.”

“And why would you think girls would do that?”He raised his eyebrows cockily.

“As I said, big egos are not sexy.”

“Well, I’m just going to have to prove you wrong Constance dear.”

I inwardly giggled. He called me 'dear.'

“Or you could shrink that ego of yours.”

“And you’d think I was sexy if I did that?”

“Possibly,” I replied. “Possibly.”