A girl who moves around a lot finally stops, only because she got emancipated. She was finally 16 and her parents signed the paperwork, they were happy to get rid of her, after all it just made it more difficult for them having a tag a long. She has been almost everywhere. The longest she spent somewhere was in Topeka Kansas. Go figure, of all places. But she had child hood friends there that she thought would be cool to see again.
Her best friend as a child, who has never gone anywhere, hasn't even left Topeka, Kansas, meets her again. He lives with his parents and has a good job. These two always Skype together, text, talk. Share ideas. So when he finds out his best friend is back, he is ecstatic. What will happen with these two best friends?
10 years.
10 years of hating Griffin Taylor. Luckily for me, he lives hundreds of miles away and I very rarely have to handle the knowledge he's in town for his 48 hour visits. Some supposed best friend he turned out to be. Mum and dad would have screamed at him for hours for missing the things he did.
Though, Griffin Taylor never did care about other people's feelings. I always thought I wasn't apart of that rule. That I was different to him. His best friend. His rock.
No call. No text, no message through his mum or his brother.
Nothing. Mine and Piper's world collapsed from under us. Total strangers on the outskirts of town showed their love and support. But Griffin? He showed up 18 months later with barely a word before taking another life altering phone call. Ass.
Now, 6 years after I last had the pleasure of being in his almighty presence, Piper made the overwhelming, stupid decision to invite him to her wedding. It's fine. He'll be here for his usual 48 hours and I'll find a million things to keep me out of his way so I'll barely see him. It's fine. Not a problem. I can handle it. Piper wants him here, Piper wants her family here and I guess, with no one else, the Taylor's are family. For Piper I'll keep my thoughts to myself, I'll smile and I'll be the good Christian I am.
But as far as I care, Griffin Taylor can rot. In. Hell.