Jealous Orchard

My fingers clenched together, forming a fist as I stood on the freshly stained wood. Her doorbell had been fixed long ago, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to ring it. It felt like if I did, I would have to start this all over again. I had dropped Pete off at his five star hotel about twenty minutes ago. He had invited us all up to his room, so we could actually discuss what was going to happen, seeing we spent the whole dinner cracking jokes and actually getting to know each other.

You always imagine how famous people act, or at least I did. What their personality is like, if they're down to earth, or just a closet case diva. But with Pete Wentz, he was different. Of all the different oddd things I've read about him are they are all true. How nervous he gets when something serious is being talked about, and how he likes to take control of everything he knows that he can keep in control. How he speaks in contradictions, but it always makes sense, and how willing he is to help anyone who's asking for it.

I was the only one who kindly denied the invite. No one looked upset that I wasn't staying. It was like they all knew that this day was another seam in my life that needed to be fixed. If it was getting signed by Pete's Wentz record company, or not getting signed. If it was staying with Morgan Lee, or breaking up with her tonight. It was mending this seam or ripping it out all together.

Her screen door rested against my shoulder as stared into window on the door. The same small side table was there where I had placed a Slurpin' Grape so many months ago. This same foyer where I watched her cry because my mind couldn't make a simple decision. Her same wore out flip flops scattered the mat beside the wall. They've been woren so many times that her feet had left a imprint in them.

I knocked my knuckles against the wood three times and waited. They seemed to echo around the porch. It was silent at first until a door slammed shut upstairs. I could hear it shake in the frame. Foot steps padded against wood loudly and fast. She was jogging from down the hall. I started to scan the hanging hammock to the left of me, trying not to look too creepy staring into the window. I remember her laying on that hammock with me, asking me to go to her cabin with her. Where I told her that our friendship didn't have to be sneaky.

I could hear the locks on the other side slowly turn and I couldn't help but look up. Her head was down and I knew she was avoiding looking at me. But just as she pulled the door open she stepped back. I quickly stepped in. It seemed that no words needed to be exchanged, as if we both knew what the other was thinking.

Her arms were wrapped around her frame as she let the door close by itself. She still wore the same clothes from before, but she now had on a pair of slippers. Her mood seemed to be completely changed from when she was at Spencer's Grandma's house. She wasn't smiling anymore, which was a rare happening. Even if she didn't want to smile she'd put one on. Just to try and make things easier.

I stood two feet away from her, feeling as if I wasn't welcomed to come any closer to her.

"We got signed," I said trying to lighten the mood, but it came out all wrong. It didn't even sound like I was happy. It was if I was letting her down by getting a record deal.

I watched her lips twitch slightly. As she tried to form a smile, but she gave up. Her eyes were already glazed over. Her lips stayed pursed, as if she was fighting them from falling into a frown.

"Brendon, I'm so proud of you."

Proud. What the hell did she mean by proud. A grandma is proud of you when you get straight As. You're suppose to be proud to be an American. Not of your boyfriend getting a record deal with Pete Wentz . I watched her pull her hair out her ponytail. A slight bump in her hair was left from where it was tied, but she didn't seem to mind as she ran her fingers through it.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

We stood there. Her arms folded, and my hands buried in my pockets. Her foyer seemed too small to do this. This. These words. What was this. What was proud. These words that we used to step around what we actually wanted to say. These words that only left us hurting more.

"Can we," I paused. The word we didn't even seem right. I looked at her quickly, but she was already stepping into the living room.

"Maybe the other room would be better," I muttered to myself while following behind her.

She waited for me to sit in the arm chair by the window before picking the identical chair opposite of it. She pulled her legs up pretzel style before leaning back into the cushions. Her hands were fold in her lap and she stared down at them, completely ignoring my presence.

"I thought a friend called you to hang out," I said remembering what Grandma Smith had said when Pete asked about her.

"I lied. I didn't want this happening in front of everyone."

So she knew this was happening. Had she already made up her mind of what this was. Were we about to attempt a long distance relationship, or was this the end.

"I'm leaving two days after graduation."

"I figured they'd want you recording as soon as possible."

“We’re flying out to Maryland.”

My lips began to spread across my face slightly before I almost had to shake myself. It seemed impossible to pick a mood for this bittersweet moment. As I relayed all the information to Morgan it all started to feel real. It started setting in and hitting me like a tidal wave. I was feeling excited as if this was the first time I heard the news, but then I’d remember who I was really telling it to, and the reason why and then I’d began to feel sick.

Her blonde hair fell over her should as her head bowed low, and I could no longer even see her eyes. She was quite for a moment. Her body seem to be still but suddenly her head shot up, and her hand quickly darted to her face as the first tear fell. Her fingers quickly brushed it aside as her eyes began to blink and her long lashes tried to stop more from following suit.

“I’m going to school in Minnesota,” she said looking back into the foyer as is she was waiting for someone to come through the door.

“Minnesota?” I stared at her wondering if she was just pulling my leg. “ Why Minnesota? I mean of all places you could go. Minnesota? What does that have to offer you?” I asked feeling pushed aside when I found out she wasn’t planning on going to San Francisco like she said she would.

“A start.”

I stared at her. Her eyes still glued to her front door. She had sat up right and for some odd reason she reminded me of a small child playing Duck, Duck, Goose. She sat there waiting patiently for her turn. Looking in the other direction, not being able to stand the anxiety of watching the other child come around, patting everyone on their head.

“A start? What the hell does that mean? What do you need to start?”

Her eyes quickly snapped back to me. Her stare reminded me of the one my mother had given me when she found out I didn’t plan on going to college.

“I have to start my life sometime. I can’t just stay here in Nevada. That’s not how this happens, Brendon. I thought you’d know that.”

Her eyes narrowed with her as yet another tear began to slip out of her eyes. But she let it fall. Her hands stayed placed in her lap as she continued to stare me down.

“What is this! I’d really like to know! It seems everyone know what’s behind the word. But I haven’t a clue! So’d I really appreciate it if you’d fill me in on your little secret.”

She shook her head slowly, her legs unfolded underneath her as she leaned forward. Her elbows rested on her knees and her head in hear hands.

“Don’t you dare get mad at me. You’re the one the one with the little secret. I should be the one yelling right now, Brendon! You wanted this! You picked this! You made every decision, and I let you. I let you get what you wanted, but you should know better than anyone that you can’t have everything you want.”

“Morgan, what are you talking abou-”

“The lies! The never seeing each other anymore! Keeping secrets from me, even though you knew I knew! The ignoring me. I let it all happen, because I didn’t know what to do. I love you, Brendon, and how could I upset you? Did being in love with you give me the right to change what you were doing?”

I sat there dumbfounded. She had clearly failed at keeping her calm collected state she was trying for.

“I-I-I didn’t mean to do those things,” I pleaded leaning forward, desperately wanting to move toward her.

“But you did, Brendon! And,” she paused taking in a deep breath as she began to stare her door again. “And I’m fine with that.”

Her voice was small. I could barely hear it over the AC that on high. Her she had clearly built her wall back up, and tears no longer fell from her face.

“No, you’ve got to believe me, Morgan. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t want this to end like this.”

“There! You’re doing it again.” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “Lying straight through your teeth. You did want this to happen. How could you not? Brendon, you just got signed to make a record. To record your music. You said yourself you don’t want this to end like this. But you knew it had to end.”

“You’re bending my words,” I said shaking my head.

“Fine then, Brendon, did you come here to break up with me, or tell me you want to stay in this relationship?”

“Morgan…” my voice shook as her name stumbled out.

“See there you are. Hiding it. Just tell me, Brendon. You don’t want to be with me. You have no intentions of being in a relationship when you’re off recording.”

“Morgan, you’re making this sound worse than it is.”

“Don’t start that with me! Why else wouldn’t you tell me you got kicked out of your house? Or the fact that Pete Wentz from Fall Out Boy was flying out to see the band? You knew. Deep down you knew. You couldn’t have me around while you were off being a rockstar.” She paused, before slowly standing up. “And I understand. I just wish you’d stop lying to my face, because it’s just making it hurt ten times more.”

She quickly reached up and pulled her hair into a ponytail. I watched her fingers quickly wrap the elastic band around her hair, as I watched her for the last time look at her door.

“I’m not going to make you say it, because I know you won’t.”

And then she laughed. It was short and dry, and she shook her head in disgust.

“You know, I always wished it wasn’t going to happen like this, but I knew I was only wasting my time.”

I quickly stood up. Already sensing her turning bitter. I took three large steps toward her, wrapping my arms around her small frame. Her arms were held in front of her body, as if she was protecting herself in a boxing match.

“Please, just don’t, Brendon,” she nearly begged.

“I love you, Morgan. I love you so much,” I sputtered out frantically.

I took in her scent as I tired to rest my head on her shoulder.

“I know you do, but,” she pushed her hands against my chest as she leaned away from me. “We have to break up.”

Her green eyes shone bright, but it wasn’t from how happy she was or how her smile had reached her eyes. It was those tears glossing them over.

Her words hit me like a sack a bricks. As if I hadn’t known this was what was going to happen. Her hands laid on my chest for a moment before falling off. She folded her arms around her body as she rocked back on her heels. I could feel the sweat build around my hair line as I watched her stare down at her feet. I took a step back, and the another. I glanced out the window to see the sun setting and the wind had picked up. Branches were swaying in trees and a pink and blue kite was stuck in the tree in front of her house. It’s line tangled in the leaves. I took another step back. I looked at her again. Her head still bowed, put her face were in hands, and she shoulders shook slightly. I had finally destroyed Morgan Lee. A part of me wanted to go up to her, and tell her it was okay. That we didn’t have to end. But then I realized that the only way that could happen was if I quit the band. I looked to the front door. My exit to my new life. My start. And then back to Morgan. Crying shamelessly in front of me. My dream career, and my dream girl. Either slipping from my fingers if I chose one or the other.

I took a step back.

I closed my eyes and turned around. I took the last few steps into the foyer and my hand landed on the door knob. As if on cue her AC cut out. Her muffled sobs filled the air as she stayed in her living room crying.

I turned the knob, quickly pulling the door open and pushing the screen forward. I ran. I ran down her steps, skipping the last two, and jumping onto her grass, and running toward my car. I concentrated on unlocking my door, and putting the key in the ignition. I tried not to stare at the figure in the window. I turned my radio up high, rolling up all my windows, I tried to sing along to The Smiths playing, everything I tried couldn’t get her sobs out of my head.

And suddenly the song changed. I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish came blasting at me. Morrissey’s now deafening voice mocked me. And all I could think about how I wasn’t mending any seams today, but ripping all existing ones out. Ripping them all out for the start of my new life.