Status: Work in progress

Shake

Chapter 5

Harper

The engagement ring I’d bought for Sloane figuratively burned a hole in my jeans pocket as I tugged a peach cobbler from her favorite bakery across the table. I moved the "happy 20th birthday!” napkins she’d gotten for me behind the cobbler and surveyed my handiwork. Yes. Now it’s perfect. And it has to be perfect. I opened the small, black ring box and breathed out the nerves as I went over my speech one more time.

My hands shook, my heart pumped fast, and there might as well have been a hand with a vise-grip on my stomach. I really hope she says yes. The high-pitched buzzing of my intercom brought me back down to Earth and I slid the ring box back into my pocket. No one knows I’m doing this tonight and that’s how I want it to stay.

“Yooo, happy birthday!” came Lake’s voice.

I smiled, some of my nerves fading as I told him “thank you!” and buzzed him up.

When I opened the door and saw Garret standing next to Lake, I wanted to take one of the perfectly gelled black spikes sticking up on Lake’s head and stab him with it. My teeth grinded against each other and I finally brought myself to look at my supposed best friend, whose arms were already up in defense.

“Harp, I know what you’re gonna say, but hear me out, OK?” Lake said.

“What is he doing here?” I said, first glaring at Lake and then at the beige hall behind
his head.

I needed to focus on something, anything else for a second. I grabbed the doorjamb and made myself look at Garret again, just to make sure my eyes weren’t lying to me. Nope. Same messy red hair. Longer. But basically the same. Deep, dark brown eyes. Skinny as hell. Nose ring. God, I love that nose ring. Easily sunburned skin covered in tattoos. Somehow he looked almost… better than he had before we broke up. It was infuriating. The longer I looked at him, the more I was starting to feel like I’d been stabbed with one of the spikes on Lake’s head.

“He’s the one who dragged me here.” Garret finally spoke.

“I dragged---you practically begged me to give you a ride here. Figure your shit out,
like you said you wanted to, so we can all to talk to each other again… in the same
room… with multiple sentences. I can’t be trapped on that bus for two months with
you two acting like this again.” Lake said, eyeing both of us as he slid past me to go
inside.

Garret looked me in the eyes for the first time since the late night show performance and my heart clenched. He looked back down at the floor and followed Lake inside. I can’t breathe. He can’t be here. I should have blocked the door.

“You can’t just---” I called after him, like that was supposed to have stopped him from
going in.

I should have kicked them both out, but some idiotic part of my brain still wanted believe that if we talked, he’d finally give me a reason or, at the very least, we could try to be friends again. I’d never stopped wanting that.

We all stood around my small kitchen leaning back against the cabinets. Garret’s hands were buried deep in his pockets and he balanced looking at the tile floor and basically everywhere but at me, which was confusing. Lake focused on my blindingly white refrigerator and shifted his feet, looking as uncomfortable as I felt. I glared at him over Garret’s shoulder.

“I’m… gonna go see what’s on Netflix.” Lake said, speed walking out of the room.

I dragged my hands across my face and into my hair, moving to leave also, but the curiosity that’s gotten me in trouble more than once rooted my feet to the floor – used this too much. Garret’s not a big talker to begin with but this was just… I don’t even know. Annoying? Frustrating? I can never seem to think of the right words in serious situations, which is kind of embarrassing considering I’m Rare Tuna Cheerleaders’ lyricist.

Garret’s St. Jude medallion clinked against itself and I knew he was messing with it. It was one of the many things he did when the anxiety part of his bipolar II disorder flared up. Seconds turned into minutes and it became harder and harder for me to imagine him talking Lake’s ear off about me… if that’s even what happened. I shook my head. That wasn’t fair. Even if I was pissed at him for this, Lake’s such a Boy Scout I doubt it would even occur to him to manipulate a situation like this. I looked at Garret. He was staring out the window into the trash filled Dorchester alley I shared with the complex next door, biting his upper lip hard and still messing with that medallion. It melted some of my anger, but not my confusion.

“So… did you come to talk or stare at my ugly-ass alley?” I said.

He looked at me for only the second time since he’d walked in and my confusion multiplied because he looked terrified. What, is he dying or something? Oh God, no, I take that back. I wouldn’t be able to deal with that.

“Uh…” he muttered.

“Garret, whatever it is, would you just---” I said, anger bubbling up inside me again.

“H-how are you?” he stammered, scanning my face.

“That’s what you came to say to me?” I heard my voice crack like I was going
through puberty again.

I thought we were past this, brain. I looked down at the counter, stabbing a crumb I found there. A full second of awkward silence passed and anger surged through me again, waking my body up like I’d chugged an energy drink.

“OK. Fine. Did you mean after the hotel room? Or after you fell off the face of the
Earth?” I said.

“You hated the hotel though!” he said, grabbing the countertop so tightly his knuckles
turned white. His voice sounded hurt.

“No, I hated that you just gave up. And you know what? You don’t just get to decide
after FIVE months that all of a sudden you give a shit about me again. You just… let
me go. So I felt like I had to do the same.” My voice broke again and I was mad at it
all over again.

Garret stared at me, speechless, an ache in his eyes, like he was just realizing what he’d lost. I wanted to scream. I took a deep breath to calm myself and when I looked back up, I made the mistake of locking eyes with my ex. His eyes had always been one of my favorite things about him: they had this spot of gold with little flecks around it and it was so easy to get lost in the dark brown around that spot… like I’m getting lost right now. Shit. I can’t do this. He can’t be here. Not tonight. Not ever. Not when he looks at me like that and I’m about as far from single as it gets. And where was this all this aching anxious regret when I got with Sloane? I shoved my hands through my curls and bowed my head. The longer the silence stretched, the more I wanted to rip my hair out, curl by curl. A knot attached itself to my throat. Tears wouldn’t be far behind. I can’t believe he has nothing else to say. After all that. Goddammit, I thought we were past being upset over him, brain. We’re supposed to be over him. We are over him. Tears built inside my closed eyes and anger swelled all over again.

“I can’t be here.” I said, bolting up.

I pushed open the sliding glass doors that led to the small patio and locked them. I sank down on one of the rusted green chairs and tried to catch my breath. Happy birthday, my ass.

***

A knock on the sliding glass doors made me jump. I willed it to be Sloane, who’d texted she was on her way up, and not Lake or Garret. When I got to the door and saw it was her, any relief I’d felt evaporated as she glowered at me. Shit, what did I do now? We’ve been doing so well lately and I really didn’t remember doing anything to piss her off. I hesitantly unlocked the door and she barreled onto the patio.

“What the hell is he doing here?” she said, gesturing back to the living room.

I cocked my head, “What is who---wait, Garret’s still here?”

The glower returned as she said, “so you knew about this?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I wouldn’t say ‘knew’ as much as ‘was ambushed’. Apparently
Garret was talking Lake’s ear off and Lake thought he was helping by bringing his ass
here. It just became this weird, silent staring contest and I couldn’t deal, so I came out
here. I wanted to kill Lake.”

“How long ago was that?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know! It’s not like I timed having my ex dumped on me and ruining my
birthday.”

Some of the anger left her face and relief flooded my body.

“You know I can’t stand him.”

“I know, baby, but I had no idea he was even still here and I think Lake only brought
him ‘cause it being so awkward between all of us hasn’t exactly been good for
business. He was just trying to get us to hate each other a little less.”

Guilt gnawed at my insides. I know damn well that’s not why he brought him here, but I can’t exactly tell my girlfriend that, can I? It’s not like I’m going to get back with him… even if it did stir up some old feelings. And I want her to stop being mad at me considering what I have planned tonight.

“Fine. Just… get rid of him.” she said, turning and going back inside.

After the door shut, I dropped my tense shoulders, realizing I could finally relax.

***

Two hours later, I'd had enough of Meta Knight failing me in Super Smash Brothers, so I walked over to the drink table and grabbed a beer from the ice chest. A familiar nose ring glinted in the fluorescent light from the hall and my throat constricted. The hell is he still doing here? He and Lake were supposed to be gone an hour ago. I looked nervously around for my girlfriend, hoping she hadn’t seen him. Relief rushed through me as I didn’t see her in my immediate vicinity.

I turned back to the long drink table and watched as Garret poured three shots worth of te-kill-ya, our name for tequila, into a red Solo cup, knocked it back, and stumbled to the trashcan to throw the cup away. The last time he drank like that was when we were all 17 and his dad poured beer over an amp he’d saved all summer for because he "hated all that damn noise". I should go over there and see if something else is going on. Other than us. Not that there is an “us”.

Before I could convince my brain it wasn't my problem anymore, my legs carried me within inches of Garret's face. Shit shit shit what am I doing here? Turn around, turn around. Grab another drink --- say it's for Sloane. I grabbed a second beer and found myself face-to-face with Garret.

He stared at me for a second while playing with that damn medallion and started, “I
need to--”. before he turned away from me.

“Wait! You need to what?" I asked, confused, but he’d already disappeared into the
crowd.

I pushed through the crowd, looking for Garret, and found Lake about to pick up a GameCube controller.

I grabbed his shoulder, “what the hell are you both still doing here? He’s shitfaced, by
the way, and you know how bad that is for his bipolar.”

“What are you talking about? He’s fine.” Lake looked behind him and realized Garret
wasn’t at the drink table anymore.

“I just saw him pour three shots of te-kill-ya into one cup, so yeah he’s fine, all right.”

I was surprised at the sarcasm that came out of my mouth. Must have come from
being around Garret.

“It’s one party. You worry too much. Besides, it’s not like I can make him leave anyway… I tried. And all his shit is still at my place so Lyft isn’t an option either.”

I looked from the carpeted living room floor to the microscopic spider cracks in the
ceiling and sighed before looking back at Lake, “I’m proposing to Sloane tonight, you
idiot.”

“Shit.” Lake said, covering his mouth.

“Yeah. It was supposed to be a surprise. The only reason I’m telling you is ‘cause
even though I'm pissed at him, I'm not that much of an asshole. And you know
how mopey he already gets when he's drunk. Can you try one more time?"

“I can’t promise it’ll work.”

“Fine. It’s something.” I said.