Scribbles of a Broken Heart

None of the guests dared enter the kitchen, where Garrett and I were still holding each other on the chilly floor. When Garrett had went into the dining room to get something for me to eat, most of the room went silent, their minds wondering what kind of boy he was too cause such a disturbance on Christmas Eve. I wasn’t brave enough to go in there. Besides the fact that I probably wasn’t able to stand, I couldn’t face my family—aunts, uncles, and cousins that witnessed the massive amount of disrespect I had just shown my parents. I wondered how I was going to face all of them after the end of this day.

I ate my cake in silence, every so often holding the fork behind me to give Garrett a bite. I was starting to feel better, whether it was the sugar I was downing or Garrett’s hand caressing my stomach, I couldn’t have been sure.

I looked at the clock; it had been more than twenty minutes since his parents and mine had locked themselves in the library. When the party in the dining room was on the quiet side, I could hear my dad yelling the loudest.

I looked at my hands, “I wish we didn’t have to succumb to this.”

I scooted away from Garrett just in case they came out. I didn’t want them to find us and think that we were too touchy. If they decided to let us date, I didn’t want anything to change their minds. I wouldn’t know how to be if they refused.

When I heard a door swing open I immediately looked to the library. Sure enough, one by one they filed out, not looking very happy, but less furious than before.

Garrett stood up and then helped me off the floor. I couldn’t look at them when they announced their verdict.

My dad spoke first, “Both of you are grounded for a month. During that time you will not go out or talk to your friends—by phone or internet. You two will use that time to study to get your grades back to the way they were first quarter and hopefully for the make-up midterms you’re teachers will give you after we talk to your guidance counselor.”

I started to cry, it was too difficult not to.

Mrs. Carpenter than added slowly and evenly, “But, you two may have a relationship.”

My head shot straight up, first to the four adults, and then over to Garrett to see that he wore a smile even wider than mine.

“But,” my mother chimed in. “There are rules. You cannot be alone in a house. When you are permitted to go on a date you will tell us exactly where you’re going, what you are going to be doing, who you are going to be with, and you will be back no later than eleven P.M. If your grades drop you will not be allowed to see each other until they are back up.”

It was so hard listening to my mother drone on and on about the rules of our relationship. The sole thing going through my mind was that Garrett and I could have a relationship. One that wasn’t forbidden or secret; a relationship without the guilt and the lies. I was finally allowed to have Garrett.

Mr. Carpenter had the last word, “But you two need to know that what you pulled was way out of line. This is by no means a reward, but a last resort. We are not proud of what you did. Children are not supposed to threaten their parents just because life didn’t go your way. And we will not tolerate this behavior in the future.”

I snickered, “I didn’t give a damn that they were disappointed in me! I was actually allowed to be with Garrett. No more sneaking around! I was too happy to even care that my parents weren’t that proud of me at that moment,” I exclaimed.

“You don’t feel guilty?”

I shrugged, “What for?”

“You manipulated Garrett’s parents and yours. You cornered them with a situation that they could not overlook to get what you wanted. You don’t feel bad for putting them in that position?”

Ms. Templeton was always trying to get me to look deeper—to feel more, to repent more.

“The way I see it, they shouldn’t have ripped Garrett and I apart. They shouldn’t have ignored the frowns on our faces or the weight I was losing. They put their parental authority above doing what was best for the health of their child.”

She took a moment to analyze what I had said before asking, “So in this case, the end justified the means?”

I shook my head, “The end always justifies the means—no matter how dirty or twisted they may be.”