The Get-Go [Ashton Irwin]

13: Get Back To You (Part A)

A/N: ALL ABOARD THE SS. FEELS. GRAB A LIFE VEST AND A FEW TISSUES COS IT'S ABOUT TO GET CUTESY AS FUCK UP IN THIS FIC

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    “Okay, I’m not that great at dealing with girls, but I’m pretty sure when they’re crying and tell you they’re fine… doesn’t that mean they aren’t fine?” Garrett looks genuinely confused, and I feel like the biggest piece of shit. I basically iced him out after the prom thing, yet here he is, still being a nice guy (or as nice as Garrett ever is).

    I nod, swiping at the tears dripping out of my eyes (thank god I didn’t wear make-up today), fighting the urge to lurch forward and hug him. Honestly, I just want to hug anyone right now, but I don’t know if we’re at the point where I can just casually hug Garrett, and it seems dumb to ask. “Pretty much. Don’t worry about it, though. I’m just being dumb.”

    “I don’t think that’s true, either. You’re not the kind of girl who cries for stupid shit, Wyn. That I do know.”

    In some twisted, Garrett-ish way, I think that’s a compliment, so I try my best to smile. He’s not wrong, either; I really don’t cry over much. Except Ashton. He seems to make me cry a lot, now that I think about it. In a good way, though. In the way that he’s a babe, and it makes me just that happy.

    When I don’t respond, Garrett looks around, as if checking to make sure no one is looking, then shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?”

    “Do you really want to talk about it?” I’m only half-joking.

    “Kind of. I feel like I fucked things up last week -” Jesus, was it really only last week?  “-and I want us to be friends again. And friends listen to each other when they’re upset, right?”

    “True. But this is about my boyfriend, and I don’t know if you really want to hear about that.”

    “Well, I don’t see anyone else here, so unless you’re planning on talking to a tree or some grass or some shit, then I guess I’m going to have to deal, aren’t I?” He gives me a close-lipped smile, which I return. “So, uh, do you wanna go sit down somewhere and talk?”

    I nod, not trusting myself to open up my mouth without crying again, and start to follow Garrett down a different footpath. This one takes us down towards the forest on the North end of campus, and then stops at the wooded path through the trees. We go off-trail at that point, and down towards the old abandoned boat house, from way back before the school bought the property. A lot of students go down to smoke weed, or do other things they aren’t necessarily supposed to on school grounds, which explains the empty condom wrappers and acrid smell that lingered in the air.

    We sit down outside, though, on the part that’s just barely over the water, and Garrett pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He takes one out, and offers me one. I’m about to take one, just because he’s offering, and I’ve heard smoking is good for stress relief, but then Ashton’s stupid thick accent in my head reminds me that I did once promise him I would never, ever smoke.

    "No thanks," I mutter, and Garrett withdraws the box.

    "Is it cool if I…?" He asks, holding up the lighter to the orange and white stick between his lips. Truthfully, I hate the smell of cigarette smoke, but I'm a little wary of saying 'no'. I don't want him to feel like he can't be comfortable around me, especially after everything that's happened. So I nod silently, and watch him light up.