His Saving Grace

Chapter Twenty Seven

I wasn't aware that I had been crying until I could feel the wet tears that stained Garrett's  shirt press against my face. Garrett was shaking so bad and his breaths were becoming shorter, and his arms wrapped tighter around me as if to control himself from exploding.

"Garrett..." I said, my voice barely a whisper. He started crying loudly, burying his face into my shoulder, pressing me more firmly against him. I wanted to comfort him but my arms were pinned to my sides. "I...I didn't know...dear god, I'm so sorry..."

He just shook his head and started saying incoherent things, sobbing even louder. I had never, ever seen a boy cry, and watching Garrett break down like this--it was like my heart was torn out and stabbed repeatedly. Never had I experienced someone dying, and it must have been worse for Garrett; to see the one you really, truly loved just vanish before our eyes, and all you could do was just stand there and watch.

I finally understood why Garrett had been so cold, why he had wanted so much to kill himself, why he was so guarded. Ashley definitely changed his life in so many ways. What if I had just let him die when he tried to cut himself with a pair of scissors, if I just let him bleed until there was no blood left? What if I had just let him die of starvation and dehydration in his bedroom? He wouldn't have to suffer this madness anymore; to be haunted and tormented by Ashely's death for the rest of his life.

I shook my head. Such foolish thoughts. 

And yet, I was still confused. Why had he kissed me; why did he let himself be kissed by someone like me, who most probably isn't as extraordinary and as beautiful as Ashley? Or did I act so much like Ashley, was my personality like Ashley's, that maybe Garrett had forgotten that she was gone, that I wasn't her; that I'm just Katie? But I couldn't ask him all that now.

Night had fallen and the stars started popping out when Garrett finally calmed down. He let go of me and rubbed his face tiredly. The right side of my shirt was soaked with his tears and I was freezing cold, but it didn't really bother me. 

"I'm sorry," he grumbled, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. "Didn't mean to break down like that."

"It's okay," I said quietly, brushing the hair away from his face. His eyes were swollen and his nose was red. Garrett caught my hand and pulled me to him.

"Thanks," he said, his voice muffled. 

"For what?" I asked.

"For being here for me when no one else was," he said quickly, as if it embarrassed him. I couldn't help but smile against his shirt, burying my face deeper into his chest.

"No biggie," I said. He held me tighter, squeezing all the air from my lungs, but I didn't mind. Even if Garrett was thin, he was nice to hug. 

We left the field some fifteen minutes later because it had started to rain, and when we were back at the truck, we were soaking wet and panting, so you could say that we looked like wet dogs.

"You're gonna get sick," Garrett said breathlessly. 

"There's nothing I can do," I said irritably, squeezing water from my shirt. I shivered. 

Garrett started rummaging through the dashboard compartments, looking through food wrappers, pocket books, broken earphones, and other things that I'd rather not tell you. He pulled out a plastic bag and pulled out a clean white shirt which looked like he had used it when he was twelve.

"Here," he said, handing me the shirt. 

"Isn't this kinda small on me?" I asked.

"No," he said, sounding irritated as he shoved the plastic back into the dashboard compartment. "Now go change. I won't peek," Garrett said, facing the other side of the car.