The first thing Gardner knew as he rose from sleep was the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs.

Calvin always got up early on Sundays to make waffles or pancakes, then spent the rest of the day focused on whatever it was he'd been dreaming about baking all week.

Gardner yawned, groaning softly as he reached up above his head and stretched. He let his arms fall heavily beside him again, turning his head and pressing his face into the pillow, sighing softly.

He didn't want to get up, he just wanted to stay in bed, the last safe place, and keep away from the world for a little while.

So confused by his own feelings, Gardner had felt numb for the last few days. He wasn't angry, not anymore, and he didn't think he felt any sense of betrayal, he knew what that felt like only too well. It was more than that, the raw ache in his chest. He just felt so sad, he could hardly stand it.

If he could be angry, it would be so easy. But he wasn't, not in the least, so Gardner was left missing the girl he loved more than anything, more than he'd ever missed anyone.

He'd let himself get comfortable only to have the rug pulled from under him, again. Gardner had got used to the feeling, the feeling of being wanted, of someone being excited to see him, talk to him, be with him, the feeling of someone caring about him as much as he cared about them, the feeling of being loved, and of loving in return.

And worst of all, it wasn't gone. There was no clean break, the rope hadn't been severed between them. He could still feel it all, feel her, Margaux. She was always on his mind, in every flash of red he saw, her hands on his face, in his hair, her body against his, her lips on his skin, her sweet words all around him, and worst of all, worst of all, he didn't want it to stop.

Gardner dragged his hands down his face, just trying to summon the energy to get out of bed.

Then suddenly, cutting through the peaceful morning air, music, music so loud it made his heart stumble.

'We had a quarrel, a lover's spat. I write 'I'm sorry' but my letter keeps coming back.'

Gardner tumbled out of bed, tripped over the sheets tangled around his legs, and fell flat on his face.

'So then I dropped it in the mailbox and sent it special D, bright and early next morning, it came right back to me. She wrote upon it: return to sender, address unknown…'

Groaning, he rolled over onto his back, rubbing his thankfully unbroken nose. He lay there for a moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning, until Calvin called for him, somehow managing to shout above the music.

"Gardner!"

His brother sounded excited, he could practically hear the smile in his voice.

"Your girlfriend is out on the lawn!"

That was unexpected, to say the least. Gardner whispered a quiet 'what?' to himself as he untangled himself from his sheets.

He staggered towards the window, blearily pulling back the curtain. Bright sunlight blinded him. Gardner hissed through his teeth, blinking away the spots in his vision until the front lawn came into focus and he could see the source of the loud music.

Margaux. She was standing on the grass, her little stereo resting on her shoulder.

'This time, I'm gonna take it myself and put it right in her hand, and if it comes back the very next day, then I'll understand the writing on it…'

Gardner could hardly believe what he was seeing. He pressed close to the window, squinting against the glare from the morning sun, wondering if perhaps he was still dreaming. But no, there she was, the lady in red.

Except that she wasn't. That couldn't be right. Even if it was something small, Margaux always had something red on her. There'd been many times when he thought she'd forgone her signature colour only for her to turn around and have a red tie in her hair, or red socks, earrings, always something. Maybe he was dreaming.

"You better go talk to her! I can't have Mrs. Krzyzos over here again complaining about the noise!"

That cleared that up. This couldn't possibly be a dream, otherwise Calvin wouldn't be yelling at him or threatening the wrath of their nosy next-door neighbour.

Gardner sighed and blearily stumbled down the stairs to find out what on earth was going on.

Just as he predicted, Calvin was cooking in the kitchen, but he ignored his brother and headed straight for the front door.

The morning air was fresh and clear, the sunlight immediately warming his skin. Barefoot and confused beyond belief, Gardner stood on his doorstep and stared at the girl who ruled his every waking thought.

Margaux couldn't have predicted how her hard heart would lurch when she saw him again. It had only been a few days, but she'd missed him so terribly, her whole body ached to be close to him again.

She let herself enjoy the sight of him in his pyjamas, a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt, before she finally turned the music down.

"Nice legs," she said, hoping to make him smile, but Gardner remained as stoic as the day they met.

There seemed a broader distance between them now than ever before. With a horrible, crushing wrench, Margaux realised they were back to the beginning again, back before there was trust, and laughter, and love, back to being strangers.

Margaux saw that he still looked somewhat bewildered and patted her stereo.

"'Say Anything'."

Gardner blinked.

"Anything?"

Margaux laughed softly, shaking her head.

"The film? John Cusack? He sweeps glass out of the way for her? They kiss in the back of his car and it's the single hottest kiss in film history?"

Gardner sighed, bleary and still disoriented from his fall.

"What do you want, Margaux?"

The annoyance in his voice struck her. She felt shame creep over her skin, making her face heat up. She never thought she'd hear him say her name with such venom.

"Can I come in?" Margaux nervously swung her stereo from one hand to the other. "I wanted to talk to you about, um…"

She stopped when Calvin appeared in the doorway behind his brother, wearing a dressing gown and waving at her with a spatula.

"Hey, Margaux!"

He smiled at her cheerily, as if nothing were amiss at all.

Margaux gave him a weak smile and walked closer to the house, glancing awkwardly between him and Gardner, who looked desperately exasperated.

"Hi, Cal."

Calvin beamed.

"You wanna have breakfast with us? I made waffles?"

Through his uneasiness, Gardner didn't miss the pained edge to Margaux's smile.

"Not today. Thanks, though."

She looked back at Gardner, chewing her lip as she waited for Calvin to go back inside. When it was just the two of them again, the tension flooded back, and the distance between them felt wider than ever despite him being so close, within touching distance, god, she just wanted to touch him again.

He was watching her. She'd always known Gardner was observant but she'd never felt observed before. His hazel eyes were still so warm, and so pretty in the sunlight, but they seemed to see straight through her now. He was wary, guarded, but thankfully, he didn't seem angry. It gave her the courage she needed to ask,

"Is there somewhere quiet we could go?"

Gardner knew he didn't have to let her in. He knew he didn't have to talk to Margaux if he didn't want to. He could very easily turn around and walk back indoors where it was safe and his worried heart could stop pounding. He could. He could. But he didn't.

"Horseshoes."

Margaux blinked. It was her turn to feel bewildered.

"What?"

"I never taught you how to play."

Gardner nodded, happy with his decision, and gestured for her to follow him inside.

"Come on."

Margaux stood on the doorstep, surprised, perplexed, and unfortunately, a tiny bit hopeful. She tried to dampen that spark, she couldn't get ahead of herself. He'd only agreed to talk to her, it was hardly a warm hug. Still, Margaux's heart felt a few ounces lighter as she stepped inside and followed Gardner through the house, and out into the garden, leaving her stereo on the kitchen table,

He showed her where to stand, pressing two blue horseshoes into her hand without meeting her eyes. He seemed to make sure that his fingers didn't brush hers, a thought that made Margaux want to cry.

He explained the rules in a quiet voice. They were far more complicated than Margaux expected, it looked so easy when she'd seen others play, but she was too nervous to ask Gardner to explain them again.

"S'pose I'll just chuck it and hope," she said with a hollow laugh.

At last, Gardner smiled. It was more of a twitch, just at the corner of his mouth, his lovely mouth, but it was something.

"You'll do great," Gardner said quietly.

He gave her another almost-smile then looked away again.

"What did you want to tell me?" he asked, moving to stand opposite her, fidgeting with his own horseshoes, swinging them between his fingers.

"I came to apologise." Margaux cleared her throat when her voice came out a little strained. "And to tell you that I miss you. And to explain. Not necessarily in that order."

She threw a horseshoe. It clanged against the stake and glanced off. Margaux miserably watched it settle, then looked up to find Gardner already looking at her.

He nodded, then took a small step forward and threw his first horseshoe.

"Go on."

The stake chimed brightly as the horseshoe span around it a few times, then landed neatly. She knew that meant he'd earned a few points but right now, her mind was so far from the game, she barely noticed.

Calvin was the first, the first to learn this part of her. When he sat her down and gently coaxed her into explaining what had gone wrong between her and his brother, she didn't expect the words to come tumbling from her quite so easily.

Even her family in Austin didn't know all of it, or her family back home. Margaux had kept it all inside, pushing it down further and further until finally, the pressure grew too much, and a gentle, kind word was all it took for the dam to break, and thoughts and feelings she'd kept locked away for years were finally spoken out loud.

Calvin sat and listened carefully, never interrupting, not asking a single question. He just let her speak until the words ran out and she was exhausted, the tears streaming down her face mixing with the raindrops that still clung to her skin.

Margaux and Calvin sat in silence for a few moments afterwards until he pulled her into a tight hug and held her while her shoulders shook, her tears all gone but her heart still in pieces. When she was done, he told her that everything was going to be alright, they could fix this, and told her to come over to their house as soon as she was ready.

Telling Gardner would be a whole other experience entirely. Margaux knew that, she supposed his brother did too.

Letting people in, letting people get close, it was terrifying. And letting herself feel, really feel for the first time in months, years even, it was almost too much to bear.

Margaux was so frightened of her own emotions, frightened that they'd overwhelm her if she acknowledged them, even for a second. But she'd come to learn, through Calvin, through his kindness, that people come to help because of sadness, and it wasn't something she should be afraid of anymore.

Now she'd said it out loud, it wasn't quite so terrifying, and the fear that kept her awake at night, it was quieter now. Gardner already looked at her like a stranger, what more did she have to lose?

"My, um... My parents always worried about me. This might surprise you, but I haven't always taken life too seriously."

Margaux tried to crack a smile but it flickered and died like a low flame. She threw another horseshoe and it landed closer, but still no points.

"They wanted me to, um… To focus on something, anything really, rather than just floating through life. And I used to hate it. I felt like they only ever talked to me to have a go at me. And whenever I saw them, we'd just argue and argue and it got worse and worse… So I left."

Margaux saw Gardner's forehead crease with a frown. She noticed he hadn't thrown his last horseshoe. He was listening, waiting for her to keep going. She took a deep breath and tried her best to hold his gaze.

"I really did move in with my aunt when I was nineteen. I got a job in a shop, I even went to a few classes at the community college, I got my own house, and I thought... Now they'll see. Now they'll see that I can make something of myself, that I'm not a layabout. I was so proud that I'd proved them wrong."

She felt her smile fade.

"And then three years ago, it was a Thursday, my parents were driving home in the rain and..." Margaux shook her head. "Stupidest thing in the world."

The silence that came next was unbearable.

Gardner's face fell, his shoulders sinking. His mouth opened, almost like he wanted to say something, but whatever it was got lost along the way.

Margaux was relieved. She didn't want pity, or kind words, she just wanted to tell the truth, to look Gardner in the eye and explain. But his crestfallen expression made her chest so tight that Margaux choked on her next words.

"I never got the chance to speak to them. I never got to tell them that I'm sorry. I couldn't bear the thought of going home." She grimaced. "I still haven't been back."

And with that, the last piece clicked into place, and everything made sense. The reason why Margaux's house had no photos in it, the reason she was so distant from her family and in contrast, so open and caring with her clients, why she never talked about home, and her reaction when he talked about his own parents.

The tension between them snapped in two, and suddenly all Gardner wanted was to hold her, to reassure her and love her and let her know she was safe, but he didn't, couldn't, he felt fixed to the spot, and then Margaux's face scrunched up, like she was trying desperately not to cry, and it made the ache in his chest so awful that he almost doubled over in pain.

"And then a week after they... I was in the supermarket, and I just- I saw this torch, this stupid two dollar keychain torch... And I took it. Felt like the most important thing in the world at the time."

Margaux sucked in a long breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Her face felt hot with shame. She was talking quickly, just trying to get it all out and over with, and she wasn't sure if she was even making sense anymore. All Margaux knew was that having Gardner this close and being unable to touch him was an almost unimaginable torture, and it made baring her tattered soul all the more painful.

"But then it started getting worse, this feeling." Her voice cracked but she kept going. "And the things I took got bigger: a pair of shoes, a mirror… A map. And I felt awful about every single thing I stole - I still do - but I don't know what to do with them all, so I just hide them away. They're all labelled, who I took them from, and where. They just sit there, like your letters, waiting to be sent. I just-"

Margaux brushed her fingers against the tip of her nose, and if Gardner weren't so heartbroken, it might've made him smile. It was a habit of hers that he'd noticed, just one of the many hundreds of tiny things he adored about her, and it was almost a relief to see it, to know she was the same Margaux.

"Sometimes I feel a bit... Displaced?" She gave him a weak smile. "All over the place. Too many parts. And it's the only thing I can't fix."

She watched as Gardner started to swing his final horseshoe between his long fingers, his mouth twisted in thought. Margaux loved that look. It still made her heart flutter, even now, but instead of excitement and an affection she'd never known before, she felt only worry as she waited for Gardner's verdict.

When he didn't say anything, Margaux sighed. She hadn't expected him to sweep her up into his arms and forgive her, she understood that it was a lot to take in, and Gardner must have been so confused when he found his map, something he treasured so dearly, in her home, amongst an eclectic array of other objects.

She'd always struggled with being patient, but some things took time to mend, and Gardner, Gardner was more than worth the wait.

"I'm sorry for taking your map. And I'm sorry for not telling you about… Everything."

She glanced back at the house. Calvin was pressed up against the window in the back door but he jumped and turned away when she caught his gaze, hurrying back to the stove where breakfast was still cooking.

"I should go," Margaux said quietly. "Leave you and your brother alone."

She made to leave but at the last moment, Margaux felt a stab of bravery. She crossed the grass, stopping right in front of Gardner, the closest they'd been in days. Slowly, she reached up, her hand hovering by his cheek, as if waiting for permission.

Gardner didn't say anything but his hazel eyes met hers and before she could convince herself it was a mistake, Margaux held his soft cheek and stood on her toes to kiss the other.

Gardner's heart felt like it might pound out of his chest, the way it always did when Margaux was close. He closed his eyes, trying to sear the feeling of her lips against his skin onto his memory forever, her scent, her warmth, her touch, before it was gone again, just a brief shadow.

There were tears in Margaux's eyes as she pulled away. Just being this close to him again was overwhelming but unlike every time they'd touched before, Gardner hadn't leaned into her, and it tore her heart in two.

Keeping her gaze on the ground, Margaux murmured,

"Bye, Gard."

Gardner watched her leave, ignoring every part of him that ached to follow her. He waited for the front door to close before he went back inside, head spinning with all that she'd told him.

He thought there must be a part of Margaux that worried about losing him, the way she'd lost her parents, and her first home. Gardner understood, he'd lost too.

Collecting things the way she did, from people she cared about, it must be a souvenir, a contingency just in case she lost them as well. But then, Gardner supposed, in the end, it didn't matter why Margaux did what she did. She was his best friend.

"What're you gonna do?"

He looked up. Calvin was watching him, the spatula he was using clutched in nervous hands.

Gardner opened his mouth, closed it again, then sighed, shaking his head.

"Calvin, she…"

He looked away, pressing his lips together, just trying to order his nebulous feelings.

What was he going to do? Gardner had lost, and lost, and lost, time and time again, and for once, a good thing in his life, perhaps the best thing, wanted him as much as he wanted her. For once, Gardner knew exactly what he wanted.

"She's the most wonderful person I know," Gardner said. "She's so smart, there's not a thing she doesn't know. And she's the prettiest girl I've ever seen, she's so, so beautiful. And when I'm with her, it's like all the clocks have stopped. Time stands still and speeds up all at once, and I don't know if I'm coming or going… And I'm happy. She makes me so happy, Cal."

Gardner realised he was smiling, smiling properly, smiling for the first time in days.

Calvin was smiling too,

"Sounds like you've made up your mind," he said, turning back to the stove.

Gardner watched him for a moment. His brother was the picture of innocence.

"You asked her to come over, didn't you?"

Calvin shrugged, his characteristic over-exaggerated movements meaning he almost flung one of the waffles over his shoulder.

"She needs our help! And after all she's done for you, looked after you, who am I to say no?"

A plate was shoved into his hand, stacked high with waffles, and a small pot of syrup into the other. Gardner felt warmth fill his chest. No matter what happened, his brother was always there for him.

He thought about that little boy sat alone in a big house, waiting for his family to come back. Little did he know they were waiting for him, just down the block, and he wasn't lost that day, but found.

"Love you, man."

"Love you too, Cal.

/

The next evening, Margaux was sat in her living room, cup of tea in hand, trying and failing to get into a book she'd been promising herself she'd read for almost a year.

She didn't look up when the garden gate swung open, even though it was late and she wasn't expecting anyone. She barely even registered the sound until there was a knock at the door.

She suspected her cousin had come to check on her. Though Margaux rarely spoke to her family without being corralled into it, she had a feeling Gabriel could tell that something had happened, He was annoying like that; he always knew when something was wrong.

Margaux pulled open the door with a sigh, preparing to tell her cousin that she was fine, that he should go home and leave her in peace, but the man on her doorstep was shorter, softer, and always, always made her heart skip, even now.

"Gardner," she breathed.

He gave her a tentative smile. He was holding a small pile of clothes and sat on top was a small loaf cake, tied up with a red ribbon.

"I watched 'Say Anything'," Gardner said. "It was good."

Margaux blinked, stunned. She opened the door a little wider, stumbling over her words for a moment until she found enough sense to ask,

"What are you doing here?"

Gardner's smile grew, just a little, but it made his cheeks bunch up, and that familiar light was back in his eyes. Margaux almost sighed to see it again.

"Here."

He gave her the clothes. She realised it was the pyjamas she lent him the night he fell off his boat, washed and carefully folded. Margaux took them gingerly, half afraid that if they touched, her heart might give up altogether.

There was a note attached to the cake, in what she thought must be Calvin's messy handwriting.

'Banana and peanut butter cake! Maybe share it with Gardner!'

It made her smile.

"Calvin said you've stopped fixing things."

Margaux looked up, her smile disappearing. Gardner had stuffed his hands in his pockets, the way he always did when he was nervous. She hadn't seen him do it in a while, a thought that made her feel even worse.

"My parents were right, I need to grow up, get a real job. Turns out I'm just as much a disappointment as they thought I'd be."

She gave Gardner a pained smile that he didn't return. In fact, his shoulders sank, and he looked like he wanted to argue, so she quickly changed the subject.

"Look, Gardner, it's really nice to see you but looking at you makes me want to burst into tears, so-"

"You wrote down where you took them from."

Margaux frowned.

"What?"

"You said, you wrote down where you took everything from."

"Yes?"

"I have an idea," he said with a forthright little nod. "I'll see you here tomorrow. Usual time."

And just like that, he was gone again, marching back down the garden into the summer night without a backwards glance, as if nothing had changed.

Margaux watched him walk away until he disappeared around the corner, her mouth hanging open. When she finally gathered enough sense to go back inside, she had to lean against the door for a moment, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.

Her grip on the clothes slipped a little, Margaux nearly dropped them but caught them just in time. She breathed a little sigh of relief, her relationship with those boys was tenuous enough as it is, she didn't want to ruin one of Calvin's creations.

Something slipped out from between the clothes, landing softly at her feet. Frowning, Margaux bent down and carefully picked it up. It was a photo, one that Calvin took of her and Gardner that day.

She sank down onto the sofa, holding it by its edges so as not to smudge the glossy finish. Gardner was beaming as she held his face and kissed his cheek, just as she had done today. Margaux's heart clenched as she gently traced her finger over her own bright smile, captured forever.

Tomorrow. He was coming back tomorrow. Gardner had an idea. He was going to help her, he was going to fix everything.

Margaux's chest swelled as she walked to the mantelpiece and settled the photo there, the first and only family photo in her house that now, perhaps, might become a home.