His Saving Grace

Chapter Eleven

In those cliche stories, when a girl runs out the door after a huge fight with a guy, the guy comes after her, right? Well, no, this is not a cliche story. And with Garrett running his own ego factory, it wasn't breaking news.

The events that took place that day bothered me for the next two weeks, but it didn't stop me from studying for the finals. Bianca and I still weren't on good terms, though she stopped shooting me death stares whenever I saw her. I still didn't know what was up and why she hated me so much, but I couldn't care less.

Two hours and two miles later down the very long main road of our subdivision, I had managed to clear my mind. John had been calling for countless times since this morning, so I decided to go to his house to make up for the days I wasn't able to keep an eye on him.

Their new house was fab--it was three stories high, took up two lots, and had a swimming pool at the backyard. There was a terrace at the topmost floor where I insisted that they make a lounging area instead of keeping it bare and dirty. There was already a small garden there, and that was what kept me busy during my visits here. Gardening wasn't really my thing and I wasn't fond of sickeningly pink flowers, but it was that or the very messy living room where John practically lived in nowadays.

"John?" I called, knocking on the white door of their new house. I could hear the TV from the inside. A shuffling of heavy footsteps, something falling to the ground, and a bump on the door.

John opened the door slightly. He looked at me, smiled, then opened it fully for me to enter. He wasn't drunk, nor did he smell like he was drinking or smoking, and he looked like he just showered.

"Hey," he said, spreading his arms. I hugged him back after weeks of not being able to after the Arianna incident. "Well, look who finally decided to drop by."

I disentangled myslef from him, and then pouted. "Well I'm sorry if I had to go to school."

He chuckled lightly, closing the door behind me. He motioned me to the couch, which was relatively tidy except for the chip wrappers and the empty soda cans. "I understand. So how's school?"

I shrugged. I wasn't able to tell him anything that happened to me lately because he was always drunk, and what's the point of sharing your life story to a guy who was barely concious?

"School's great. Haha. Life's great. Fantastic, actually." I dropped down on the couch, picked up the remote, and idly flipped through the channels. 

"I may be stupid, but I'm not dumb," John said, snatching the remote from me. He stood in front of the TV screen, blocking my view and replacing it with a close up of his flannel shirt.

"I didn't say you were dumb," I said and sighed. 

"You're lying."

"So you are dumb?"

John grumbled, running a hand trhough his hair. That wasn't my best comeback and it wasn't even one bit insulting, but I knew that I was on the lines of pissing him off.

"Everyone knows what happened at DQ two weeks ago, Katie. It's obvious that everything's not fine," he said, kneeling in front of me. He looked at me with his big, understanding green eyes.

I huffed. "What is it to you?" I snarled. "Shit happens, and it's none of your business." As the words escaped my mouth, Garrett's voice rang in my head. 

"Don't you talk to me like that, Katie," John snapped. I cringed a little, though I tried my best not to show it. He stood up abruptly, staring me down. 

"Maybe I don't wanna talk about it," I said, feeling more hurt than anger. John never got angry at me though I knew perfectly well that I was on bitch mode for as long as Garrett was the topic. I never dared set foot back into DQ (I wasn't scared of seing Garrett, but I wasn't taking my chances). 

John rubbed his face in exasperation. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Katie." He walked upstairs, and I heard the door to his room shut closed.

Way to go Katie.

~~

A sharp knock woke me up. Apparetly I was able to sleep on the food-wrapper littered couch of the boys, and when I checked the time, I panicked. It had been four hours since I got here, and I knew it was already starting to get dark out.

"Hello? Kennedy? Are you home?" It was a guy who was calling, and his voice sounded so familiar. I peeled myself from the couch slowly, feeling the pain in my aching back.

"Kennedy?" the voice called again, knocking even harder. I grunted, slipping my sneakers on.I staggered to the front door, dumbly trying to turn the knob, and yanking it open.

"Oh, good lord. I thought you were--" the guy stopped talking. I blinked several times to adjust to the darkness outside, trying to make out the guy standing in front of me.

Shit.

"Katie?" he said, stepping forward. His face came into focus as the light from the front porch illuminated his face. His eyes were still the same blue that I remembered from three years ago. His hair was the same, his face looked the same, his hair looked the same, and his voice still sounded the same. 

"Keith," I said, my voice barely audible.