Jenna's Blog

I don't know if this will be my final update, because I'm contemplating whether or not to take a break from/leave buzznet. I don't know if I can fit buzznet with everything else I'm juggling right now. I'm sorry guys. We'll see what happens.

"I swear, this place was made for vampires."
Alex tucked his table napkin into his simple t-shirt. He found himself cursing the simplicity of his clothing--if he had known she was going to take him here, he might have dressed up a little nicer.
"Do you want them to build lights just for us?" Hayley asked, trying to adjust the fake lightbulb-candle in the middle of their table, placing it at such an angle that it would provide sufficient illumination. 
Nothing helped.
Alex seemed to notice this endeavor, for he grinned gently and put a hand over the lightbulb. "Maybe they should. At least then I'd feel less like Frankenstein." 
She sighed and snatched it away. "Oh be quiet. Calm down and stop making allusions to monster stories."

Alex tried to hide a smirk in his sleeve as the waiter stopped with their drinks.

"Sparkling lemonade for the lady," the waiter began, stepping over to Hayley's side. "And a Pepsi for you, sir." He placed the cold glass against a intricate coaster.

The waiter took a formal stance before them. "Are we ready to order?" 

"Yes," Alex began. "But I have one question." He managed to throw Hayley a mischevous grin before saying, "Do you think we could get some lights built around he--"

A grunt slipped from his lips as Hayley's foot collided with his ankle. 

"I'll have the three cheese penne," Hayley said, fighting to supress a laugh as she caught, from the corner of her eye, Alex's red face. 

"Alright, three cheese for the...em...lady," the waiter's eyes danced back and forth between the two. Alex, who had reached down and touched his ankle, paid no attention to the events around him. 

Yep, definitely bruised, Alex thought as he recoiled to his own touch. When his mind wrapped back around the fact that he should have been ordering by the moment, his hand groped for the menu against the table. His eyes scanned through the Italian and French entree choices that seemed to blur into an incoherent bundle of words.

He nearly gasped his words out. "What's the most expensive thing you have here?"  

"The premium lobster meal, sir." 

"I will take that. With the most expensive dessert afterwards, please." 

"Very well, sir. I'll be back with the food in a few moments. Let me know if I can get anything more for you two. Maybe an ice pack..."

"I think I'll live. For now," Alex said, switching his gaze to Hayley. 
He nearly jumped out of his skin at her seething expression. 
If it weren't for the fact that she had just kicked him, he could have forced a smile. He felt himself jerk away from the table a couple inches as the waiter shot them another incredulous glance. 

When the waiter had left them alone, it was almost strange to listen to Hayley's voice laced with a raspy anger. 

"Ok, that was low," she hissed, absently tightening her hand on the fork.

"You said you were buying, and then you kicked me..." He lost his train of thought when his eye nervously darted to her white knuckles. "Let's take the weapons away, shall we?" He said, prying the fork from her fingertips.

Hayley went on with her rambling, unabashed. "I'm not the one that was trying to be his usual slapstick self with the waiter. Seriously, Alex, grow up."

"Hey, calm down. Mind you, did I not get hit by an entire Crackle Crunch bar this morning?"

Hayley opened her mouth to say something. Nothing came to her tongue, it appeared, for she faded back into silence. Every other soul in the restaurant had buzzed about in their own quiet reveries, as if in a trance against the dimmed lights that was, in essence, nothing more than an imitation. 

And the two sat there, suspended at their round table.

When the waiter returned with a small basket of bread later, he felt almost ready to face whatever antics the two had in store for him. He could tell that this was not going to be an easy table to deal with. 

It came as an absolute shock when the waiter approached the two and saw that a taut silence had hung above them like a tent. Placing the bread between them became a terribly awkward thing to do, as if he was putting his arm into a net of tension--he felt as if the skin would disintegrate between their harsh glares. 

When the waiter left again, Hayley sunk into her chair and sighed.

"So how did things end with Lisa, anyway?" 

Based on Alex's raised eyebrow and then vacant expression, it was obvious that was the wrong question from the start.

But he answered it with as much grace as possible. "She must have been scared. I was trying to be strong, you know, for everyone, but it wasn't working out as well as I thought. Don't you hate that things look better in your head than when they play out?" 

"That's life for you," Hayley said, reaching out for a piece of bread. "So she just abandoned you?"

"That's a bit of a harsh way to put it. But yeah. Basically. We never talked to each other after that. I'm not even sure if we're officially broken up or not."

"Were you hurt?"

Hayley was perched to listen to what he was going to say, so silent that he actually imagined she was afraid of him for a moment. The question was harmless--but there was a glaze in her eyes that he wanted to think that, underneath the shiny exterior of the question, she was burning with something he couldn't understand. 

The only way he knew how to answer was with one of his own. 

"Why would you want to know, Hayles?" 

She felt the innocuous way he used the nickname everyone had given her--Hayles--and only now did it make her wince. For if he asked the question using her full name, she might have been ready to respond. Alex probably couldn't understand how threatening he sounded right then, despite the calm sheen in his tone. Then she realized that even the calmness was probably deliberate. 

She cleared her throat. "I just wanted to get an idea of how your relationship with her was."

"What about you and Josh?" Alex asked, leaning back in his chair. The tension had fled, for now, and he felt guilty that he was actually waiting for it to reappear. 

"What's there to know?"

"Well, it's been a while. I found out about you two through an internet article from Alternative Press. Isn't that kind of pathetic? That the computer had to tell me before you did?"

"You never called to ask."

"Did I have to?" 

Alex paused when he caught that flicker of fear in her face. 

"Sorry," Alex added, registering the harsh edge to his voice. She gripped her napkin with sweaty palms. The sudden interrogation wasn't expected, but nonetheless, she was his friend. She would give him what he wanted to hear.

"He talked to me one day, on the bus at Warped Tour." Hayley paused when the waiter came around with two of their plates. She had never felt so relieved to see dinner. At least they didn't have to sit unoccupied anymore.

"And..." Alex pressed, when everything had been set before them.

She fumbled with her napkin and set it against her legs. "He said, 'I know this will be complicated,' and I had no idea what he was talking about. But he told me he wanted to try 'us.' Whatever that meant. I didn't understand at first, until I realized how great he was."

"Really? I never thought you were one to be easily impressed."

"He made it really fun, that's all. We had to hide it from people at first." She took a bite from her pasta to try and focus on something other than his penetrating stare. He looked so driven that it was beginning to eat away at her composure, which she held so carefully up to this point.

"So it was...exciting?" Alex said, beginning to eat his own meal.

"Mmhmm," Hayley spoke through full teeth, awkwardly nodding at the same time. She finally swallowed, practically squirming underneath his gaze. "The chase and fight to hide it from people was fun, but it wasn't practical, so we revealed it. I think it was Alternative Press that got the first scoop. Sorry for not letting you know. You had the right to." 

"No, it's none of my business, I guess," Alex sighed, leaning back into his chair. A heavy silence lodged in between them so quickly that it shocked him. He watched as she tried to wipe her mouth with the side of her palm and continued to chew--it had become something of a pastime to watch her eat. Why was he always transfixed on her when he was thinking? 

"So...are you going to eat now?" Hayley's eyes flickered down to his food. 

For a second, he had forgotten they were at a restaurant. "Right."

Hayley stifled a chuckle. "Hey, now it's your turn. Tell me about Lisa."

//

"She likes you, you know." Jack stares at Alex between a gap in the library books and smirks.

Alex sighs, picks up a copy of The Shining by Stephen King, and stuffs it into the gap, silencing Jack.

His lanky best friend runs to the other side of the shelf at a frantic pace; Alex thinks he can actually hear Jack's heart pounding as he breathes his words. "Lisa Ruocco likes you."

"You straight up sound like a chick right now." He rolls the library cart along as he continues to shelve books. 

"Don't tell me you're not interested." Jack tries to keep up as Alex ignores his mutters. He watches as his friend picks up a bunch of old books, mouth dropping at the fact that he seems so nonchalant about the hottest cheerleader at their school--maybe in the entire state of Maryland--liking him. If he had even a quarter of a chance with her, he would chase it like a bucket of cookies.

Jack marches up to the front of the book cart and places a hand against it.

Alex tries to roll it forward, but it's no use--Jack's body, no matter how skinny, stays as an obstacle.

"Get out of the way, Jack. I have to finish."

"Not until you tell me that you'll ask her out."

"Um, but I thought she liked me?"

"So?"

"So that means she should do the 'asking out.'"

"Dude!" Jack explodes and finally moves aside as Alex shoves the cart into his stomach. "It's a rule that the guys should do the asking out," he continues, clutching his abdomen. 

"Show me this rule book and maybe I'll believe you." Alex turns the corner and searches for the next shelf. His eyes are in the middle of scanning when Jack slaps a book against the side of his head. 

"Really?" He stares at his friend with such disbelief and a hint of lividness that, if Jack wasn't so used to his usual attitudes, would have probably sent him running. But instead Jack just laughs, raising the book again.

"Okay, I'll talk to her," Alex says, preparing to dodge before another attack. Jack's hand jerks mockingly in the air and Alex ducks in self defense. 

"You're the worst friend, you know that?" 

"I try," Jack shrugs. For once, Alex expects him to leave, but when Jack's arm suddenly grips hard against the library cart, irritation crawls in like a bug.

"I have work--"

"She's here." Before Alex can even process this, Jack forcibly twists his body into the direction of the entrance. Lisa walks straight through with textbooks gripped against her chest, completely alone. Alex feels his heart sink at the fact that the next thing Jack was probably going to do was urge him to "make a move."

It is then that he realizes that he will never get anything finished as long as Jack is around.

//

"Did you end up liking her? And I mean really liking her? Not just because Jack told you to?" 

Alex watched as Hayley's eyes glimmered despite the dim ambiance of the restaurant. He couldn't help but feel a twang of excitement at how genuinely interested she seemed to be. 
He shrugged. "I did. She was my girlfriend through college. She was my girlfriend after I dropped out of college. She was my girlfriend up until my parents died, and I think that's the most defining aspect of our relationship. The fact that she bailed out on me when I needed her most says a lot about us, doesn't it?"

"Sounds like it was a lot of on again, off again." Hayley took a sip of her lemonade. 

"How did you find out we were dating, anyway? Not a from a magazine, I hope."

"I talked to your mom."

Alex practically choked on his food. "You what?"

His shock surprised her and she felt rushed to explain. "We'd chat over the phone sometime. You were always on tour when I called, so we never got to talk. But I did speak to your mom a lot. Didn't she tell you?"

"No," he spat, wiping his mouth against a napkin. "I can't believe this. Well, I guess I don't really blame her. Wait, please don't tell me she didn't tell you about that one rash, because I swear..."

"What rash?" Hayley asked, although she was perfectly aware of the story. The sheer relief on Alex's face tempted her laughter, although she managed to keep it in with another sip of her drink.

"It's funny," Hayley continued. "She always told me you and I would end up together. It's crazy right?" 

"Completely." His voice cracked as he said the word, and although Hayley noticed, she didn't question it. He was thankful for that. Because if she had, it would take all of him not to tell her everything right then and there. 

"Do you love him?"

The question was pulled from thin air. 
She had always felt so ready for it--one day, someone, not just Alex, would inevitably ask, and she knew no words would stick like jelly in her throat. They would flow endlessly through her mouth with an answer that defined everything she could ever feel for Josh.
She was not prepared for this.  
Hayley's eyes flickered down to her plate. Her palms sweat and a flash of his face ran across her mind. It was comforting, but just barely.

Underneath the gaze of Alex's eyes, she felt ready to break. Why, though?

Maybe it was the weight of the question that got her tongue.

"He makes me happy," she said. Alex leaned forward to hear her. 

It sent her heartbeat racing. It annoyed her that the increasing proximity actually made her nervous. She had done interviews with pressing questions underneath the cold glare of bright lights before. How was this any different? Besides, he was her best friend. 

"But do you love him? As in, you would die for him?"

"I think we're getting a bit too deep now." Her words came out in a nervous babble and she increased the grip on her fork in an attempt to counteract it. "We should just enjoy our dinner and see that piece of crap movie right?"

When she flashed him the slightest grin and continued with her meal, he was left stunned, confused, and suddenly interested in the fact that she was so hesitant towards the subject. It made him feel like a stalker to even be so absorbed, but the anxious flickering in her eyes told him that there was something hidden beneath the surface. 

Something he wished he could bring to the light.

Ok, so I came up with an idea! I'd like to read some of your writing. Drop a comment/link below to a oneshot you've written that you're proud of, think I'd like, etc. and I'll try to read as many as I can! No stories please, just oneshots! Anyone can participate. I just felt like reading some of your stories since most of you take the time to read mine :) Also, leave me some feedback for this oneshot if you'd like! Thanks guys!

I look at him from across the seats and instinctively grip my pencil harder.
My teeth clamp down onto the rubber eraser.
Was it that difficult to focus with him around? 

"Ew, Hayley!" 

My head snaps up as an offended Bekah pulls the yellow stick from my mouth. I steal another glance at him and realize I probably don't deserve anything like that. He's the model of perfection and I'm so...plain. 
I shift uneasily against my chair.

"Is she daydreaming about Connor again?" Josh slips his tray against the table and takes the seat beside me. I swipe his carton of milk in one move; he notices this but doesn't protest. Not that I expect him to, anyway. He never did like chocolate milk, and I vaguely wonder why he still orders one in the first place. 

"Keep your voice down, will you?" I groan as he slides into the chair. 

Josh merely scoffs at me. "Everyone in the school knows but him, Hayley."

For some reason his words hit me with such a pang of guilt that my eyebrows knit together. I should have expected it, but the tone in Josh's voice is so accusing that it takes me a moment to respond. 

When I do, it's nothing but a pathetic little sigh.

"He's kind of right, you know." Bekah bites rather apologetically into an apple. I feel tempted to shoot her a harsh glare--she is one of my best friends, and I'd be expecting her support--but my eyes simply pan down to my turkey sandwich. All the desire to eat flies from my stomach. 

"Ok geniuses, then tell me how in the world I can let a boy like that know how I feel." My eyes move up to Connor again, who wears a solemn frown over his face. I feel knots form in my stomach. That was the last thing I expected, considering his smile just minutes ago.
My eyes trail on his for a little too long; he looks up and his eyes suddenly find mine. I hear a mental squeal in my conscience.
Despite the thrill that lurches in me, I do nothing to retain the contact and break the gaze immediately. 

A moment later Josh's voice snaps me back to our conversation.
"Are you alright?"
The concern in his voice is unmistakeable.

"Fine." I open the chocolate milk with animalistic force. "Guys, let's just give up now. I'm doomed to be that quiet, hold-her-feelings-in kind of girl. I should probably accept that and move on. High school sucks."

"It does not," Bekah protests, but a glare from me silences her. 

I sit in the front of the school at the end of the day. Cars zoom by from the school parking lot like a stampede, and I wallow in the fact that I'm probably the only senior who doesn't own a car. Even Bekah did, and I would ride with her if it weren't for the harsh load of extracurriculars that kept her bunkered down at school. 
Then again, there was Josh, with a car that only fit two people. Not that I didn't like him as a friend, but being seen in that small piece of junk is the last thing I'd like to do. The only time I ever carpooled with him was when it rained, which didn't seem far-fetched right now, based on the grey skies. 

I glance down at my watch and realize that there is almost no one around me anymore. The benches outside of the school are usually filled with kids waiting for their parents--mostly freshmen, who didn't know how to drive yet--but it's become so late that not a single soul lingers anymore. 

Where in the world is my mother?

It's out of the ordinary for her to be so late. 

I bring my knees up to my chest and rest my chin there. My hair forms an uncomfortable curtain behind my back and I hastily stuff it in a knot beneath my neck. I really should cut it.
My eyes scan the neighborhood for any sign of life--there is none, except for the cars that pass by, and I find that awkward loneliness hold my body like a vise. 

The feeling doesn't last, however.
From my peripheral vision I catch two leather shoes stepping towards me. Not nearly close enough for me to touch, but, as they take the bench that stands two feet from the one I'm on, I find myself lifting my gaze from between my knees.

Connor.

Of course, right when I look my worst, tangled in a strange position, did he show up. 

But my brain fights the blush that seems to spread through more places than my cheeks and contort this into some universal sign. Whatever it is, I'm going to take it.

His blue eyes are glued to his cell phone before he acknowledges my presence. 

I feel my breath lodge in its place and will away the subsequent headache. I force a slight smile, and it seems I've finally done something right, for he returns it with his own.

"Hey," I squeak, and I can't believe that I'm actually speaking.

"Hi." He rubs his hands together. After a moment's contemplation, he asks, "Do we have the same lunch period?" 

"Fifth?" I ask, feigning curiosity, although I've known he was in the same period as me since the first day of school. 

"Right. I thought I saw you today. I think we have history together too."

"Right. And art. And...English." My lips clamp down onto each other. His eyes burn a hole into my face that I know I don't have the stability to face--if I weren't so awkward, maybe I'd have been able to say what I've wanted to all these years.

"It's weird, you'd think I would have noticed you, with that bright hair and all." He throws me a smile that sends my heart thundering in my eardrums. And it is practically deafening by the time he stands up and takes the spot beside me. 

"Well, um, now you've noticed," I say, hastily tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My voice comes out far too calm for the way I am screaming inside. 

I dig my face a bit further into my knees and throw him a sideways glance, but his gaze is fixed forward.

"Can I tell you something?" 

My head perks up.

"Anything."

"There's this girl I've wanted to ask out for a long time." He turns a nonchalant eye to me and I can't help the way my heart flutters again. His eyes are playful, just teasing. There must be something in my expression for his eyebrow shoots up suddenly and he asks, "Is something funny about it?"

I know better than to feel defensive, for there is a lighthearted tone in his voice. Yet my words are a jumble all the same as I stutter a "No" back. 

"I think I'll be telling her tomorrow. It's been a long time." He sighs into the air in front of him. "I've been wasting time."

"She sounds special."

"She's different. I guess I've never realized this until now." Connor runs a hand through his hair and glances out across the street. 

My mind wills to distort this into some metaphorical way of him telling me he likes me. It must be. Why else would he talk to me alone and take this spot next to me? He seems earnest enough. All the signs are pointing to that conclusion.
Or maybe I'm wrong. But the hope is so sweet that I find myself clinging to it like a madman.

"Well...I think you shouldn't waste any more time." My voice is just above a whisper, but I'm sure he catches it. He glances up at me and I can see in his eyes that he must comprehend--or at least get a hint--what I feel for him. 

"You have a nice smile, you know that?" 

My slight grin grows wider and I'm certain my eyes are protruding out of my skull. But I hold my trembling composure as best as I can manage and nod. "Thank you." 

"The world would suck if people didn't smile. I wonder what it would be like without laughter."

"Lonely," I cut in.

He chuckles. "Right."

For a moment I feel saliva rush down my throat. He throws me a glance that penetrates my skin more than he can imagine, and it stirs a new persona within me. Something wants to destroy the fear and just say something, for Pete's sake. 

"Look, Connor--" I reach out for his hand but his cell phone vibrates in his pocket. 

My breath comes out sharply from my mouth as he answers it. I can only hear garbled sounds behind the phone, but it sounds an awful lot like some girl. I can't help the way my heart sinks in disappointment. 
When he finishes the conversation and turns back to me, I feel all but ready to explode. I like you, Connor. You need to know it.
Instead he smiles another winning smile at me and I revert back to a silent moron. 

"Hey, thanks for this..." He pauses.

It takes me a moment to get what he's trying to say.

"Hayley," I finally fill in for him, and he sighs at the answer of my name.

"Hayley. You've made my day so much better."

I fake a smile as a black car pulls up into the driveway. Connor glances at it. He doesn't speak. He doesn't make any damn sound as I watch him step away from me and slide into the passenger seat. 
There is a slip of a girl's blonde hair that I can make out from inside.
I watch as the tires squeal away and dig my face back between my knees, feeling an urgent need to scream. What just occured in the last few minutes? Was it even relevant? Or real?
Connor didn't even know my name. It dawns on me that it's highly unlikely he is even interested if he isn't aware of that detail. 

The rain pounds like stones against the pavement. It is cold and unexpected, and it thunders down until my hair is all but soaked in it. My first instinct is to run, find some shelter until my missing mother arrives to pick me up, but I stay glued to the bench.
A feeling of regret presses down on me like bricks and I wince.
I can't figure out the source of it, but my heart wrenches and twists and I want to cry. Scream. Any escape to relieve whatever it is that's slowly tearing me apart inside.

"Hayley!"  

I glance up, expecting my mother but finding Josh standing in her place instead. His old excuse for a car is behind him.
I hear his feet slap like stones against the floor as he makes his way to me. 

"What the heck are you doing out here? It's raining!"

"I've figured that out, genius," I sigh, resting my head and nearly cringing as his hand tilts my head up to face him. I try to wrench my gaze away but it's no use--he angles me in such a way that I can't help but look at his face. 

"What's wrong?" He takes the seat beside me and immediately slips the jacket off from his shoulders.

My mouth tears open. "You should wear tha--"

"Just take it, Hayley." 

There is a harsh edge to his voice that I've never heard until this moment, and instinct alone tells me I'd be stupid to fight it.

I take a look at his water-soaked face and watch his bangs fall slightly over his eyebrows. I'd be lying if I said the look didn't suit him. His brown eyes glance at me the way Connor just did moments ago, but I swear I see something glimpse past that has never been present.
Either that, or I've never paid mind to it before.
He takes my hand in his. It's such a natural move that I barely notice until I glance down.

"You look like hell."

I nearly collapse right then and there. But his words edge me on, I resist the temptation to grit my teeth as he says, "Do you need a ride back home?" 

For a reason I cannot fathom, his voice annoys me to no end.
But it also makes me want his arms. His warmth.
And this new revelation brings me to meet his eyes. My jaw locks in place, stubbornly, and he seems to have expected this and matches my stiff gaze. 
His hand brushes the small of my back and for the first time the touch sends unnatural shivers down my spine. But I welcome him despite it; his warmth is so inviting that all I can do is collapse into him.
I try to hide the fact that my eyes are already wet with tears and bury my head into his chest. He whispers something incoherent into my hair.
In fact, it seems he can't find anything sensible to say, for he just sits there, lulling me to the point where I finally stop my maniac shivering. 

"He's moving away, Hayles."

His voice is so quiet that I have to lean over to hear him.

"What?"

"Connor is moving away tomorrow." He stumbles to continue as my eyes widen. "Look, I didn't know until today. His friends told me last period. I just...I thought you should know."

I think to every gesture that Connor could have expressed the in the past ten minutes and make sense of it my head. The frowning. The uneasy movements. The whole ramble about wasting time. 
Whatever it was, I'm left searching myself for the ripping sensation. The heat that will burn my throat with loathing and anger.
The guilt I must feel for wasting all this time.

Instead, I only feel Josh's arms.

It must mean something that Josh was the one who came to save me, to pick me up from my slowly dilapidating state, and I feel a prick of happiness in my heart.

I feel Josh's fingers caress my shoulder blade. "I know how crazy you were about him." Underneath the calm notes of his voice I can hear a struggle to keep his worries hidden. 
It makes me smile.
"I talked to him today." I watch in slight glee as his eyes glimmer in surprise. I stifle a chuckle. "Anyways," I begin, visibly wiping tears from my eyes when I'm no longer scared to look vunerable in front of him, "We talked about him, mostly. He never once really seemed to care about me. He said he liked my smile. He also said he wanted to ask this girl out, and how much time he had wasted waiting." 
I shake myself free of Josh's hold and stand up. "I think I should take his advice." I hold my hand out for Josh and he takes it, tentatively, as if he is scared I am going to bite him.
Always so awkward.

I stand in front of the driver's side and look at him from across the roof. He looks utterly speechless, as if he had momentarily forgotten this was his car and I was, in broad terms, hijacking it. I fight to stifle another chuckle and a few thoughts cross my head as I glimpse into his brown eyes. Josh treats me normally. Like I'm not a mess. 

I am still contemplating this as I slip into the driver's seat.
Josh is perched at the edge of his seat, always tense, but focusing on me. "Will you calm down?" I laugh, and that brings some color back to his face.
My hands grip the steering wheel for a second. "Come on. I think it's time I stop wasting my time, too." 

I just wanted to remind everyone that the flashbacks/memories in this story are written in italics. It's been a while, so some may have forgotten that and go "Whaaa?" lol. Hope you all like this chapter! On a side note, I've been getting lots of encouraging comments lately from you guys. I just wanted to say that I'm humbled people are still reading despite the fact that I hardly visit this website anymore...I'm such a horrible buzznetter! And yet you guys always give me a boost and are so kind. I don't think I'll ever be able to "leave" this website completely because of you. Thanks for all the generous feedback! I truly do enjoy hearing from all of you.

Alex tip-toed like a thief into the room.
The light scrapes of his feet against the floor sounded so incriminating that he actually felt goosebumps rising on his skin. Or maybe it was just the fear to wake Hayley that induced them.
She did get pretty cranky in the mornings. 
The perspiration coming off from the cold pieces of plastic ran against his hand. He looked down at them and remembered why he was doing this in the first place.

She'd be caught so off-guard. If he was honest with himself, the curiosity tickled him more than the fear. He imagined her face in his head, quickly realizing that no visualized contortion would ever equal the real thing.

And so he gently took a seat beside her sleeping figure, glancing at her for one last moment of contemplation. His arm shook as he placed it atop her shoulder. Then, with the slightest shake, he jolted her awake.

Her eyes were the first to strike him. He had to work quickly, he realized, as those pools of green resembled--for the slightest moment--the eyes of a snake. He pulled out the two ice cream bars from behind him and forcefully shoved them in front of her. 

The hard lines in her expression ironed out into curiosity. He was pleased, realizing an entire half-minute had passed without her yelling at him. But if he dared to speak, maybe he would destroy it.

"What the hell is this?" she hissed. Alex flinched, backing away just the slightest amount.

She brought her hand to her eyes and rubbed them. Her spine began to stand erect, her lips snapping against each other while attempting to stifle a yawn. 

"Is this..." The realization slowly inched to her face. Alex couldn't help but let his grin stretch out wider.

"Crackle Crunch." She gripped one of the plastic wrapped bars in her hands and examined it, as if it couldn't possibly be real. Alex quickly acknowledged that he was right about her priceless reaction: it was better than the image in his head. He wished his mind could snap a photo of it, right then and there, and for a moment he actually considered pulling out a camera.

He was just about to speak up when his chest was met with the splat of the ice cream. "You woke me up for that?" 

And then she collapsed back onto the pillows. 

For a second he actually sat there, frozen. 

He didn't know exactly how to react. Perhaps it was best if he didn't react at all.

There was a slight cramping in his mouth and it took him a moment to realize it was gaping open. 

Alex retreated from the bedroom, taking both of the Crackle Crunches in his arms. He tried to concoct some reason for the events that just occurred, but came up with none. The wood on his floor creaked with each of his heavy steps and it became so unbearable that he fell against the couch in a dramatized fashion. From out of the blue came the strangest urge to cry. His mind snapped at the fact that all of this was so out of character for him, but then again, so was that reaction from Hayley. It occurred to him that maybe he should have recorded the moment with a camera. At least then, he could try and figure out what he did that was wrong.

//

When Hayley came slinking out of his room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, one glance at Alex made the guilt expand inside her stomach. She wished she had covered herself up more, for the goosebumps rousing on her skin made her feel so defenseless.

She had sat in the bedroom for twenty minutes before deciding to come out here. The full consequence of her more-than-bitchy actions had finally registered in her mind, and she wondered what spurred them on in the first place. If she had an explanation, she wouldn't have felt so scared to face him. She never was scared of him. Not even when he was angry at her. But now was a completely different story. And maybe it just showed that they were growing further apart.

She strode up to him before her thoughts could eat her alive.

"Whatcha cookin'?" she asked.

Alex gave a little twitch before throwing a glance over his shoulder. His eyes flickered away immediately.

"French toast. My mom's recipe, actually."

Hayley dug her teeth into her lips. She walked over to his side carefully, as if he were something foreign. There was no need for the fear, she tried to remind herself that, but she could see the hard lines of his back through his shirt and struggled to formulate sentences.

Alex caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye. Just waiting for her to say something. Perhaps she'd worm in the right words.

Yet he was guilty to admit that he was also waiting to see if she'd avoid it.

"Got anymore ice cream left?" She asked, pathetically, as if that kind of question would suffice.

"I don't know. Look in the freezer." 

She ambled to the steel fridge and felt her fingers shake as she opened it, like there would be something in there that she didn't want to see.
It was just as bad when she finally did get a glimpse at that still-wrapped Crackle Crunch bar, and then every painful acid that could erode away at her system condensced into the surface and she rushed back to his side.

"Sorry. I'm an asshole."

"Good thing I'm around so many assholes in this world, then. It made that a little more bearable." 

Hayley cringed at the pure venom in his words, she was sure he didn't mean it so directly, but a small part of her had to admit he was right.

"Do you remember our little deal?" 

Her head jerked up at the return of his normal speaking voice. Even though she had no idea what he was talking about, the effect was overwhelming that she answered, "Ehm...yes?"

It was obvious he didn't believe her and dropped his head in an attempt to stifle a smirk.
It didn't work.
"We said that whoever found Crackle Crunch first would win something," Alex continued.
She dared to move in closer, confining herself to his side. "And," Alex continued, not even noticing the way she was suddenly just inches away from his skin, "I won."

He dropped the french toast into a plate and walked away without another word.

Hayley's eyes followed his movements with her eyes. Her limbs stayed frozen inside the kitchen. She heard him take a seat.

"And...?" Hayley pressed, swirling around to face him.

"Do you want to see a shitty movie?"

Alex glanced up at her body from across the dining table. She was still in the kitchen, the light from the window illuminating her from behind. He was ready to forgive her. Not that it was going to take him long, anyways. He should have known. She never was a morning person. Not even when they were young. 

//

"I hate this. Two worksheets. An essay. Three quizzes and an exam. I swear that the educational system is trying to murder us." 

Alex watches as a haphazard Hayley swings her backpack against her shoulders like there are rocks inside of it. The scene would amuse him in any other circumstance, but the true pain in her face makes him empathize. 

"You can survive one more week," he smiles.

She looks up at him as if he can't possibly be serious.

He releases a throaty chuckle in response. "Year's almost over, Hayles. It's only the freshman year. I think this is good for you."

"And in what way?"

"It prepares you for the years to come."

"What's the good in notebooks and pencils and numbers anyway? No one cares. Most jobs these days require none of it."

"Just because you want to be a singer doesn't mean you won't use any of it."

Well, okay, Hayley thinks. But that's besides the point.

"Chill out," Alex says, as they pass by a children's playground in their suburban neighborhood. Alex drops his backpack into the grass, and with thunderous steps he mounts a slide and slips down across the plastic tube. He emerges again in seconds and drops into the ground. The boyish charm shines through his eyes as his head tilts up and he flashes her a grin. 

"We're going to be late," she says when his hand beckons her forward. She, in turn, beckons him forward, foot tapping impatiently against the grass. 

"Alex. Stop being stupid. Did I not just say I had three quizzes and an exam?"

"Just one slide."

"It's 6 AM and I woke up this early to get some extra time to study. So get off and let's just get to school, please?"

He jumps to his feet, smirking from the corner of his mouth. He glances at her with a different inflection, one she finally understands as he mounts the slide again. 

"I hate you Alex." She feels herself grind her teeth together as her feet turn past the slides and toward the school. 

Alex remains stuck at the top of the slide, and as he catches a glimpse of her retreating, the knee-jerk reaction kicks in and he jumps from the top of the ladder.

His body falls forward into the thick grass. There is a loud snap that sounds too severe to be anything but a broken bone. He yelps out in pain, loud enough for her to hear, and she freezes in her steps.

The tone of his voice is so genuine that she knows it isn't a joke, and so she nearly drops her books as she runs back to the playground.

"Alex? Alex?" She says frantically, her eyes finally darting to the ground and catching the sight of his shriveled frame. Alex grips a hand against his ankle and the gesture only releases another cry of pain. 

"I really hate you now." Hayley says, exasperated, giving up all hope of being able to get to school at this point. She bends down to his level and her own expression frowns at how horrible Alex looks. He notices this and holds her hand for a moment. "I really thought I could make the jump," he tries to joke, but the ache quickly washes out his expression. Hayley pulls out her phone while keeping her eye on him, knowing that she--if his face didn't look so incredibly pained--might have laughed at him. 

//

"I'm serious," Alex said, dissolving any of her fears of whether or not he actually was, and stepped in closer. 

She wrapped her arms around herself. "Are you asking me...well..." She chuckled, dismissing the idea with a wave.

"What?" Alex pressed, hardly doing anything to mask his interest.

She gently tugged on the neck of her t-shirt, twisting it between two fingertips. "I was going to say a date, but...that'd be stupid..."

Alex felt his stomach sink. "You don't have to say anything. It's not a date, Hayles." His voice was far from convincing, and although Hayley took note of this, she didn't say anything. Alex pasted his usual smirk and added, "Unless you want it to be."

"Cute," she smiled, realizing the awkwardness had fled the room. "On one condition," Hayley said. "I'm buying."

She brushed past him in such an angle that he was tempted to bridge the gap between them. He didn't of course, but that didn't stop him from imagining.

Maybe it was time she took all the control for once.

//

Alex looked at himself in the bedroom mirror and realized he had put his shirt on backwards. He could hear water still running from behind the bathroom door, and knowing Hayley would probably take a few more minutes (okay, maybe it would be more than a few--girls, in his experience, tended to spend forever in the restroom) he tugged the shirt off his body.

It took less than a glimpse of her to realize she was in the room.

Hayley watched Alex's eyes widen as she stepped out, wrapped in nothing but a plush white towel. 
She resisted a blush at his bare back, watching with flaming cheeks as he scrambled to put his shirt back on.  

"What should I wear?" She began after awkwardly clearing her throat. Alex only watched her from her reflection on the mirror. It was hardly enough to keep his eyes from wandering.

"The blue one," he said, indicating the oversized dress shirt that she had in one arm. 

"Okay," she mumbled, barely audible over the water in the shower. 

She had never been so thankful for the distraction of water, for the sound of it provided her an escape route out of this mess. And she was definitely going to take it.

"Your shirt is on backwards," she said over her shoulder before scrambling back into the bathroom.

Alex switched his shirt right-side-up, staring at his flustered reflection through the mirror.

He made no attempt at silence when he yelled, "So is this a date yet?"

Hayley, who stood right by the door, smiled.

Thank you for the feedback on the other chapter guys! I'm happy to see everyone is getting a feel for the characters. 

Everyone around them had fallen silent at Alex's eye-grabbing display. It was only because of the utter silence that he could even hear her. 

He wished he hadn't.

"Come on Alex," she whimpered, lifting her palm to her mouth. Her speech was garbled when she spoke her next sentence, but he didn't have to make anything out any longer. He knew everything just by looking into her eyes. And it was the first time he considered giving up on whatever it was he was doing. 

//

"It's fine. I really like the weather here," Hayley mumbled into the telephone. It felt so good to hear the sound of Josh's voice again. She had forgotten how much it calmed her.

"Sounds like you're having fun. Hey, when you get back the label booked us a couple of acoustic shows. I know it's a little overwhelming. Should we cancel?"

"No! Let them. I miss singing." 

"Seems like you forgot we were just on a tour, Hayles," Josh laughed. For a moment, the fact actually stunned her. The energy had never ceased here in Baltimore. There was an unmistakable internal caffeine that surged on inside of her. In fact, it was only now that she felt even the slightest inclination to rest. 

"So how's Alex?" Josh asked abruptly. His voice wasn't threatening, more so resigned, but she took precaution nevertheless.

"He's doing fine so far. He's acting like how he used to again. I guess that's both a good and bad thing." She found her hands groping at the bedsheets. She was laying in Alex's bed, after all. 

"He's not depressed anymore, is he?" Josh continued.

"No. At least, not around me."

Josh took a moment to think. Hayley bit her lip, anticipating everything from suspicion to anxiety to whatever other feeling Josh might come up with. She couldn't blame him. They were apart now, something that seldom happened. She tried to imagine herself in his position. But instead of reassurance, the idea sent her into more distress.

"Sounds like you're helping a lot," he finally said, and she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that he actually sounded happy. And then, when she couldn't find anything else to say, he filled in the gap. "I miss you Hayles."

She sighed into the telephone. "I've missed you everyday." 

"What about we get dinner at that one Chinese place when you come back? Just you and me."

"Deal," Hayley answered, feeling a smile creep up against her cheeks. The prospect of it sounded so inviting. As much as she loved being here with Alex, she did miss Josh. They were supposed to be spending time together, after all. And she was pulled away from that so suddenly. 

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I love you," Josh said.

"I love you," Hayley replied. And just like that, the dial tone was ringing again, and he was gone.

Almost immediately after she hung up, a fist knocked against the door. 

"Come in," she said, sitting up on the bed. "You were listening in on that, weren't you?"

Alex's face contorted into genuine shock. "No. I just heard that you were done." He caught what his words sounded like and shook his head, wishing he could take them back. "Okay, scratch that. I promise I wasn't spying." He approached her with extreme caution. Although he was well-aware (almost too aware) of the fact that she was sitting in his bed, he wasn't so naive as to take it as forgiveness. Flashes of what they did this afternoon burst like popcorn in his head, and every mistake was acknowledged. Every stupid maneuver. 

"Come sit," she said. His feet quickly rushed toward the bedroom before he jerked to a stop. Slow and steady, he hummed internally. This time, he'd try to think his actions through. He couldn't just go with the motions all the time.

Alex eased himself into the edge of the mattress.

Hayley spoke first, pressing her back into the headboard. "Are you cooking dinner tonight? Or should I?" 

"You're the guest, so I think it'd be more polite for me to do it."

"Okay," she shrugged. 

It was just like their first day again. The uncomfortable silence sent a strange sensation up his skin. 

"I know what I did today was stupid," he burst out. She threw him a cursory glance, but when their eyes met, both shot back down to the bedsheets. "I need to be honest with you. I did it because my parents died." 

When Hayley looked even more bewildered than before, Alex struggled to continue. "Ever since they've left, I haven't been sure how to deal with what I feel. What I want to do. Does that make sense?" He shot her a desperate stare. She searched herself for some clarification but found nothing except more confusion.

"Life is just too short to not be happy or stupid all the time. I know that's a weak justification. It sounds bad enough that I'm using my parents as a reason for all this. But ever since they've lost their lives, I've felt so defensive over mine."

Alex searched Hayley's face for some sign of understanding. He was just about to continue explaining when her lips parted slightly.

"So your plan to jump over a bridge counts as 'defending' your life?" Her voice was soft, but the sentece sounded so accusing that he took it as an insult all the same.

Alex felt a current run through his limbs and back. It was almost hard to function. "Life's all on a string, Hayles. And it's damn short. Maybe I shouldn't be sorry for what I did. Maybe you should be the one to take more risks."

Hayley's frustration bubbled up to the surface and she found no way to supress it. "I just don't want to lose you again, Alex!" 

Her face creased in a desperate attempt to try and stop tears from flowing. Her eyes were already glued against the fading scars on his wrists, even before she burst out. The memory of his tousled, destroyed self when she first saw him surged back like a gust of wind. It frightened her more than he could ever know. And she was still too afraid to let him. All these years of trying to be the perfect friend were taking a toll on her, and she didn't know how to continue anymore. Not in this situation. 

She attempted to bury her face against her shoulder. It only strained her muscles and made the will to explode even more prominent. 

The bedsheets wrinkled as Alex crawled towards her shaking frame. Hayley pressed her back further into the headboard, as if collapsing in on herself, before Alex wrapped his arms around her. 

"Sorry," he whispered. He looked for something else to give, something more than just a mute breath against her pale skin. For once, the only thing he could offer was a single word.

But it was enough. 

She felt at home in his arms, no matter how much she tried to deny it. Her head fit into the crook of his neck perfectly, and she was content to let it stay there, the rest of her body closed in against him.

"Ugh, I hate crying," she sniffed, digging her face further into his shoulder. Her eyes had a horrible tendency to puff up when she cried, and it made her look like a mess. The last thing she wanted was for Alex to see her in that state. 

"I'm being dumb, I know," Alex said, hating the way her body trembled against his. But he was grateful that she didn't merely push him away, because that was the way he saw it happen in his head. "I don't want you to leave."

Hayley jerked from his embrace. She gave him a look of such hostility that he felt his spine bristle. "I never said I would. Do you think I could give up on you that easily?"

"I didn't mean it that way. You just seemed...after today..."

"Can we pray?" 

His eyes buried into hers. At first, Alex thought he had imagined her request. She continued in a civil tone. "It's always helped me." 

It was fine to him, but the fact that he hadn't attended a church service in four years crawled like a bug up his neck, and it made his body even tenser.

She ignored the palpable fear that gripped him and simply clasped her hands together, bowed her head, and waited until the silence bathed the room again.

"Dear God," she whispered, cutting the silence like a knife. He found himself peeking at her every now again, catching the movement of her lips as she prayed for their situation. And then, all at once, he felt the need to just look at her. It wasn't difficult to get immersed in her clean expression--for the first time, she didn't have the subtle intensity carved into her forehead. Just the solemn expression of a person praying. If this was what happened to those who prayed, he thought, perhaps he should do it more often. 

"Amen," she whispered, and her eyes snapped open. Alex had no time to react, his eyes were still open. The shock was palpable on his face and, upon realizing what Alex must have been doing the entire time, Hayley just sighed. "You'll never change, will you." It sounded less like a question and more of a cemented fact.

Then she laughed.

//

Alex liked the way her body curved against his. Of course this was the first thing that registered in his mind--it came equipped with the gender--but there was something about it that tore him apart.
She had asked if he'd like her company that evening. "The couch is getting lonely," she told him, and eventually she had settled into a position that closely resembled spooning. He didn't want to call it that, because he knew Josh wouldn't be very happy if he saw it. 
That was the first thing that gnawed at him.
Second was the perfect curvature of her back. Not just her waist, and what lay below it, although he liked that too. Just the cliche feeling that they were two puzzle pieces and this vivid warmth connecting them wasn't just a fabrication, after all. His mind wanted to disort it into something more than a delusion.

He was too scared to reach out and wrap a hand around her waist, for fear that their proximity might be shattered. Maybe she'd realize how wrong it felt to lie with him and resort back to the couch. 

So it caught him off guard when her body unconsciously shifted to face him, half-lidded eyes fluttering dreamily. Aware or not, she always seemed to know what he wanted. And he savored it, watching her sleep with evident fascination. 

Hayley felt the press of his lips on her forehead and jolted awake.

When he felt the creasing of her forehead underneath his lips, he knew it must have been the end. This was it. But her soft skin was simply too inviting.

Hayley only looked at him. Her eyes burned holes into his skin; he wished to make them soften, but that veil that blocked her emotions was up and impossible to penetrate.

She didn't seem to notice his fear and dropped her head into her pillow. "I thought you promised not to be stupid."

Her voice was hoarse from lack of use. It struck him as ironic that out of all the reasons, that sleepy voice was the main reason he could not respond.

"I'll let this one go for now," she said, not in the mood to deal with his confusing behavior anymore. She felt only numb, and hoped it would last enough to cloak whatever it was that just ignited inside her stomach. So she just melted back into her pillow, and in moments was breathing softly again.

Alex sighed. He would never understand her ability to drop things like that. If she had kissed him, he knew he'd be immersed in every detail of it for weeks.

After a full half hour, Alex finally drifted into sleep.

Finally updated haha. Hope you guys like this chapter! :)

"You're not serious." 

"I am! Come on Hayley, have a heart." Alex tugged on her shirt sleeve, just barely brushing her hand, as he pulled Hayley toward his neighbor's front door. 

When a middle aged man appeared with gray flecks of hair, Hayley questioned Alex's motives once more. He didn't exactly radiate friendliness with the plaid robe and bunny slippers. "Sleepy neighbor" seemed to be the better description. But Alex pasted the brightest smile on his face and directed his thumb towards the direction of street lamp outside his home.

"We saw that Sunny was missing," Alex began. 
"Oh yeah," Dave, the owner, mumbled between his teeth. He rubbed a palm over the stubble around his mouth. "Sara and Carl are going crazy. He's our only dog."
"I know, and that's why we came to help." 

In that moment, Alex reminded Hayley of an overly bright salesman. Or a telemarketer. Either way, he began to exchange a very convincing arguement of why he would be the perfect guy to help out with this sort of catastrophe. It would have creeped her out otherwise, but he radiated such easiness that it was impossible not to agree. When he stepped backward, Dave, the owner, was waving a leisurely "goodbye", as if all his cares were stripped away in that moment due to the captivating energy of Alexander Gaskarth.

"I'm impressed," Hayley said, walking down the neighborhood with him. 

"What do you mean?" He asked, switching his footing. He placed himself in front of her and began to walk backwards. 

"Well..." Hayley began, now cautious, watching if any obstacles would get into Alex's blind path. "If your career as a singer fails, I at least know you'll be a good businessman. Or something or other."

"Are you implying that my career is going to fail?" He spat, mockingly hurt. 

"Now you know that's not what I meant." 

"Okay, well if my career did end, and I knew none of it, then I'd want nothing but to hang out here. With you. Just like we used to." 

His feet stopped then, leaving a resounding scrape against the sidewalk. Alex watched as Hayley followed, but without a surprised look--as if she expected him to stop. He dared to step in just an inch closer, breathing an internal sigh of relief when he realized her eyes were not protruding in the way he imagined they would. She looked mischevous, almost open, to this close proximity.

"I want to show you something," he whispered, breath just barely brushing her face.

"Oka--" She only started to say the word before he took her hand in his and they bounded down the neighborhood street, past the green trees and beating sun. 

"Alex, wait!" She screamed, helplessly following his long legs. Her feet screamed to a stop when she saw what they were running toward: a green lawn with its sprinklers on. 

"No!" She squealed. It only spurred him on, with his hands tightening around hers.

He ran head-first into the water, spinning her in a C-shape around him and catching her other hand with his open one. They revolved in a circle for two seconds before Hayley crashed into his chest. Alex enveloped her body in a lopsided, strange embrace.

Then they stopped, suspended. She blinked a few times, realizing the position she was in. She made sense of the fact that Alex's arms were around her. It wasn't different from the way he used to hold her back in high school. But this time there was something underlying beneath his skin. Something that she wished she could understand.

"We better get out of here," she mumbled, prying herself from him. 

He watched her rub her neck as she walked away from the lawn, shaking the water from her already-soaked pants. 

"It's a good thing I didn't wear sneakers," she said as she bunched her hair and squeezed the water out. "Let's hope the sun dries us out quickly." The tone in her voice implied that she didn't want to discuss whatever it was that just happened back there.
Then again, what did happen back there? Alex continued to watch her wring the water from her hair as he thought about this. Nothing happened. He held her. But it's not like he hasn't done that before. 

"Hayley, that wasn't what I wanted to show you," he said. 

Instead of annoyance, he watched her take in a deep inhale. "I sort of figured." 

"Can I still show you?" 

"I'm not exactly the walk-down-the-street-soaking-wet type of person." Hayley gave him a look that made him think she was ready to head back home. "But," she said; and suddenly his ears were all hers again, "I think I'll be fine for now."  

Alex laughed, gesturing to open his hand to hers, but she shook her head "no." And that stayed with him their entire walk to the street corner in Baltimore.   

She commented once or twice on the scenery, saying how nicer it looked in the summer than the winter. Although both were great, she preferred to spend time with him in this weather. "It opens possibilities," she said, smiling up at the sunshine. Her damp hair fell flat against her head. Somehow, it made her look vibrant. Alex liked it better that way. 

"Here," he said, coming up into a narrow, brick alley. 

Hayley paused before entering. "Really?" 

"Oh come on--" He refrained from pulling her in this time. When he realized she wouldn't budge, he began to walk in by himself.

"You'll miss it," he called, going further into the deep alley. 

She felt her feet glued against the cement, but when the feeling that someone was behind her began to crawl up and down her spine, Hayley was forced to step inside.

"You're going to regret making me do this," she laughed, skin tingling at the way the darkness and the alley made claustrophobia trickle inside her. The only thing keeping her from exploding was the light from the open slit of sky above them. Otherwise, it was complete darkness.

"Ok. I think we're in the middle." Alex swirled around to face Hayley, who was still trailing a few inches behind him. In the dim light he saw the fear in her face and wanted to laugh. 

"Hey, you know you can just head back the other direction if you want to go," he said to her. "It's a one way alley."

"Oh be quiet," she groaned, finally meeting him. She saw just a brief shadow of his features. The light illuminated his eyelids, but the rest of his mouth was clouded in blackness. "What is it you--" She paused, realizing her voice was echoing back to her.

"That," Alex whispered. 

She gasped, cupping a hand over her mouth. "That's...different." Hayley looked above, and, as loud as she dared, screamed "Hello!" 

The alley exploded in sound. 

She giggled, and that too danced across the walls of the alley. Alex, who was more inclined to the sound of her laughter, took the sound in happily. 

"I was thinking we could assemble a band in here sometime," he mused, leaning against one of the brick walls. He watched as Hayley continued to scream random nothings into the atmosphere, barely lit by the sunlight. 

"Maybe. It's cheaper than a recording studio," she said to him. When she made sense of Alex's position, angled there by the wall, she noticed how dapper he appeared. Hidden in the shadows, his features took on a mysterious appearance. Almost like a 1940s zoo-suit wearing jazz musician. Almost. 

Then two hands fell above her eyelids, and she went blind. 

"Get off of her!" Hayley heard Alex screech, and just like that the two hands were gone, and her eyes snapped open. But it was useless compared to the darkness around her. It's like they never came off in the first place.

"Here! Here!" She heard Alex struggle, but her eyes refused to turn in his direction. She breathed against the brick wall. "I have a wallet!" He said, almost panicked, and then it's all over. The rush of fear left her body. All that's left is a numb shell. And she paused, clinging to the wall for some hope. 

"Hayley," Alex said, rushing to her side. 

She doesn't know what to say. And if she did, she wouldn't know how to say it. 

"It's okay," Alex whispered, coaxing her out of her shock. "It's okay." And then, after a beat: "It was a fake wallet."

Her eyes turned to his, open and huge. A smile began to cross his face. As the words sunk in, she followed with her own smile. 

"It was fake," Alex reiterated, as if she didn't hear it the first time.

His hands unconsciously tangled around her pallid face. "Come on. Let's go. It's okay." He gently peeled her body from the wall. His hand slid in around hers very carefully. This time, she didn't deny it.

//

"I always carry fake wallets. Just in case stuff like would ever happen." Alex walked alongside the wooden support of the sloping bridge, a rock in his hand. 

"I never pegged you for the type," Hayley said, the color finally back in her face. "The one to be prepared, I mean." 

"See, I have this goal. It's to not die." He threw her a mischevous expression. She simply smirked.

"How's that working out for you?" she asked, biting into her turkey sandwich.

"Pretty well. I only prepare for the worst. Anything that might threaten to take my life."

"We're all going to die," Hayley said matter-of-factly.

Alex looked into the river with a knowing glance. "Not me," he said, throwing the rock into the lake below the bridge. "You, maybe. But not me." Then, he mounted the wooden railing along the edge of the bridge and began a balancing act.

Hayley nearly choked. "Alex! Get off of there!"

"I said I wasn't going to die," he laughed, walking like he would on a tightrope. Hayley became aware of the onlookers' bewildered eyes and turned to Alex again. "Come on, Alex, get down from there." 

When he continued to walk like a madman across the thin strip of wood, she just gave up.

"Okay, I'm leaving." And she did. She took another bite of her turkey sandwich, her shoes scraping the bridge's deck.

"I'm jumping!" He yelled to her. 

She wheeled around, surprised but trying desperately to conceal it. "Go ahead," she challenged, still chewing.

"Okay, just watch." He poised himself, almost ready to jump. Hayley saw his chest heave up and down. He didn't even look at her. Just the water. No hesitation. 

"Wait!" Hayley interjected, her feet running for him. She placed the cup of her hand around his ankle and gripped as tightly as she could manage. Her heart was an inner thunderstorm. "You can't. Because then the world would lose All Time Low."

"They can always find another singer," he said, looking down at her. 

His nonchalance sent the fury racing in her veins. That, coupled with the dubious feeling that he would really jump into the lake, was a potent mixture. "You'll drown, come on. Please. I'm begging you. It's not funny." 

"Not bloody funny," Alex cooed in his British accent. Hayley was inches close to rolling her eyes, but refrained from doing so. She wanted to paste the stone-cold look of seriousness on her face, and so far, it was working. Alex merely returned it with a sluggish gaze in his eye. "Tell me why you'd be afraid to lose me."

The sound that escaped Hayley's throat was strange. Animalistic, almost. Not a growl, but a groan. 

Exasperated, she released a breath of air that blew against her bangs. "You're my best friend" was all she could mutter.

She continued to look at him, realizing that the haze he seemed to be in was departing now. His eyes softened back to the warm brown. Those insane lines that carved through his skin melted away. He crouched, lifted a leg back onto the floor of the bridge, and stood at eye level with her. But his usual smile was suppressed when he realized that it was Hayley's face crumpling up now. Creasing. Turning hard as stone. 

"I want to go home," she croaked. 

Seems all I have time for nowadays are oneshots, haha. Morning classes can go down a deep dark well kthanksbye. At least I have writing as a therapy. Aaanyways this is based off of Ingrid Michaelson's song, Giving Up. I love the raw message of that song. This is NOT related to The Notebook. Thanks for reading and as always, I love your feedback!

It was a look in her eyes that he recognized. 
A look that also intimidated him.
But if it wasn't for the dreaminess in her gaze he would have acknowledged it as a threat. Because, as her eyes lingered on the elderly couple sitting on a bench just across from them, he could almost hear her begging for a ring. He absently wondered how a rock could symbolize something as large as everlasting love. Commitment to forever. Some things were just strange, he guessed.

Ryan thought about it for a second, stroking the stubble around his chin. He slipped a hand into hers as he did. She reacted quickly to the touch, turning to look at him. She smiled, and in that smile was the reason people never took their eyes off of her. She was stunning, and this fact smacked him in the face every day. And he was somehow fortunate enough to have her.

He glanced back at the elderly couple. 

Their smiles hinted at a simple nostalgia, a kind of de-ja-vous that they only seemed to know.

It took him back to a moment in his grandmother's bedroom, when he was just thirteen years old.

"Baby," she said, holding her arms out, despite the intense strain it must have caused her to do so. Ryan cringed at the gesture, holding his palm up to stop her. "I'm here, gram," he replied. He could practically feel the pain inside his grandmother's brittle bones. It eluded him how she could continue to overstrain herself when it didn't do her any good.

The smile on her face was just as confusing. 

"How was school?" she said, struggling to sit up.

His raced to her side. "It was the same as every other day," he said, supporting her back as she sat upright. "I made it on the soccer team, if that's any news."

"Congratulations!" She said with that laughter in her voice. "This is the third year in a row, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but it's also the only sport I'll ever be good at." 

She smiled for a moment, then paused, as if she was hearing something that he wasn't. 

"Your dad's been looking for you."

He reacted with a grimace at the mention of his father.

His grandmother placed a finger underneath his chin, so that she could angle his head toward her. Ryan fought her gaze with a deepening scowl. 

"Oh Ryan," his grandmother whispered. "I know how you feel."

"No you don't," he choked, ripping himself away. He sunk down against the door of her bedroom closet. "Can we talk about somebody else please?" He slid his hand against the carpet and groped for his backpack. He pulled out a page of his homework. 

Ryan's eyes searched the black and white numbers for any meaning. Anything at all. They were blank shapes against a simple page, and it daunted on him that his life was just the same.

"He's with her, isn't he?" Ryan mumbled. 

Despite his efforts to keep it covered, his grandmother could hear the amount of physical exertion it took for him to choke out the words.

"Yes," she sighed.

"I don't get it," Ryan began, still glued to the numbers on his math homework. "How he could cheat on her. Especially when she was sick." 

"Ryan, people make mistakes."

"Dad didn't make a mistake. He knew what he did. You don't just forgive people like that." 

"Well you can't stay here all your life," she said, resting back against her bed. 

It took just once look at her to know that she was right. His grandmother was getting old and sick, and she had no one but a daily nurse coming to care for her each day. 

"The world's forgotten about me, but it still sees you." 

When the silence followed, he realized his grandmother had drifted back to sleep again. It was usually the signal to go watch television or finish homework, anything to keep him from the inevitable fact that he should come back home. The pile of laundry sitting in the corner signaled the only clothes he had brought here. He could hardly even wash his own dishes. He was thirteen. How in the world could he survive alone like this?

Ryan rose to his feet. He leaned over his grandmother's bed, kissed her forehead, and tip-toed slowly out of the room. He scooped his pile of clothes into his arms, threw them inside his backpack, and inched out of her house. 

What if he ended up the exact same way as his father? Or his future wife would cheat on him, the way his father cheated on his mother? What if every one of his worries materialized before his eyes, and he was left with nothing?  

I guess I'll never know the answers to those questions, Ryan thought, taking Rachel's hand again. She grasped it as he helped her to her feet. Ryan looked back at her now, scared as ever, trembling with each footstep. The past was an awful place to dwindle into, especially in this moment. It made him feel so incredibly weak, and yet, in the midst of her hands he somehow found the balance to stand up tall. 

She sipped from her green Starbucks straw as they walked along the street of Chicago. 

"Snow's starting," she mumbled, and in response, he brought his arm around her waist. He knew how much she loved that. It came almost instinctively now, as if he was built to keep her warm. 

But almost moments after he had done so, she spun out of his grasp, letting her thick skirt twirl as the snow fell. Bits of white settled on the fabric of her jacket and she spun around once more, like a dancer, childishly moving down the street. She stopped when she nearly ran into a man carrying a tray filled with hot coffee cups. Ryan's arms reached out to catch her before she did, his eyes widening. His hands barely brushed her waist before she stopped revolving all on her own. 

He sighed in relief. That carefree attitude would always get her in trouble. Add that to the list of things he was still frightened about. 

He watched her amble back towards him, smiling again, brushing her bangs away from her forehead. "I'm in the mood for cake," she whispered, sliding her arms underneath his coat. 

"Well there's a store behind you," Ryan answered, nodding to the shutters of a small bakery just ahead of their path. 

Rachel's eyebrows knit together. He watched as her forehead creased, openly revealing her emotions the way he never could. 

"You need to smile a little more, babe." She placed her fingers on the edges of his lips and forced them upward. "See? You look better already."

He placed his hands over hers, gluing them to his face. Her laughter filled his ears as they began to walk forward, wobbling like ducks with her fingers pressed to his skin. "Let me go!" she sang, and he shook his head in strict defiance. "You said I needed to smile more," he countered. 

He gently pressed her back against the door of a tiny shop. 

When she didn't smell the signature donut-frosting-milk scent that usually radiated off most of Chicago's bakeries, Rachel paused. Her head swiveled around to finally take a look at the place. There were glass cases, all right, but they weren't filled with pastries. Instead, there were rings. Lots of them. 

"I don't know if I should have asked first," Ryan began. "I thought maybe I should bring you in here first so you can't change your mind." 

She felt her pulse reverberate against her skin. Her hold on his face slackened, and her hands fell to his sides, still not letting go. She feared if she dared to, she would faint.

"Rachel, would you do me the honor of taking my last name?" Ryan began to kneel, but her hand darted out to catch his.

"Baby you don't have to kneel," she said, tugging him up. She laughed at his bewildered expression--he was so vunerable. She had never seen it completely before. "Yes. Yes, you know I will." 

"I just wanted to make sure," he whispered, before pressing their lips together. She gently slapped him in the abdomen after pulling her head from him. "Bastard," she whispered, eliciting his low chuckle.

Maybe he'd always fear something, Ryan thought. But he glimpsed a future inside Rachel's eyes and he would be stupid to let go of it. 

"C'mon, let's go get cake first," she said, twisting her hand over his coat sleeve. "This ring thing can wait after we eat."

He couldn't help the way his heart fell when she said this. It was a light, feathery fall, but nonetheless left enough of a vibration in his system. Why would she want cake first? Was she avoiding this potentially scary situation--getting married? 

He watched the blush in her cheeks as she stepped out. Maybe she was just embarrassed.

Whatever it was, Ryan still followed her footsteps down the street without hesitation.

And that lack of hesitation, the ease in which he trailed after her, must have been the answer to all his doubts. Why else would he follow her now if he didn't love her? 

Rachel squeezed his hand gently as they entered the bake shop.

He always had the answer. The entire time, he did. He just never knew until now. 

I am giving up on making passes
I am giving up on half empty glasses and
I am giving up on greener grasses
I am giving up
for you 

This features another couple I've never worked with before: Rachel Mcadams and the (oh-so-delish) Ryan Gosling. Enjoy everyone! Happy Valentine's Day! 

It's not that she's scared, exactly.
More that the fleeting rain and clouds act like a chafe around her neck, making doubts form in the smallest of crevices.
She wishes she can understand the workings of fate and then decide whether today was going to be the right one or not. 

Her grip on the steering wheel tightens. At least keep a level head until the airport. Maybe then she can allow herself to freak out.

The rock music playing from the radio isn't very helpful. With a quick swipe of her finger, it turns off, and the car is bathed in silence.

As the seconds pass it seems that silence is more unbearable than any worry and she resists the temptation to turn music back on. Why can't she just be content for once? Every emotion possible surged in a tapestry across her brain until she felt she couldn't handle it anymore. Driving while nearly emaciated with over-thinking can't be healthy, she thinks. It's the perfect recipe for a highway accident.
The thought chills her to the bones.
A wheel slipping, hydroplaning across asphalt, slamming into another car until it's too late to close your eyes--

She decides switching the radio back on is a good idea.

Jazz is a suitable alternative to the guitars and pacifies her instantly. There is no cause for worry. Why is she so worried, anyway? They share such a passionate thing. No amount of distance could have hindered that. 

But it's not like he was coming home to her each afternoon, talking about their day. There was always a specific time alloted when they would talk, or else the time difference would have caught them both at inconvenient times.

She sighs, looking over the past two months. Late night Skyping, calls, his warm voice behind the telephone--there is no sign of trouble. She didn't need to worry.

It's just that there are rumors about these things. It hurts her to know most of them materialize sometimes. Long distance is not an easy feat. In a perfect world, maybe they'd be together all the time.

But at least he is coming home now. This is the end of the challenge. A celebration, really. He's coming back to her after two months of being away at school, and it is going to be okay.

Who am I fooling, she sighs. This is only the beginning.

After this, she is sure he'll be eager to leave again. Serve the country. Feel valiant and brave, just like she knows he is. But what's that going to leave her? Sewing baby clothes at home, waiting for him? She feels a light kick in her belly and smiles. It's as if their soon-to-be bundle of joy is speaking back, agreeing.

In moments, the exit ramp towards the airport comes up in front of her. She barely misses it, what with all the thoughts circulating her head. It's so selfish, she thinks. But justified, right?
She is just too scared to lose him. 

Here it is. The very reason she worries. The fear, the longing, the desire. He's so young, and so attractive--what if there's another woman? It's an option she refused to acknowledge until now. It's unlikely--as she knows he loves her. Or maybe she loves him too much. Trusts him too much. Not that he gives her a reason not to.

The sloping design of the airport flashes into view, and, in seconds, is gone again as she enters the parking garage. Robotic maneuvers follow: paying for a parking ticket, the gates opening to let her in, searching for a parking spot, finding a parking spot, the actual gesture of parking the car. Ryan. Ryan.

Thinking his name sends relief down her back. She can practically feel his fingers now, tracing her pregnant abdomen like he always did when they were at home. 

She steps into an elevator.

"Wait!" A middle aged African woman places her hand against the elevator doors and it reacts by opening in a jolt.

Rachel's stunned eyes soften, realizing the woman's fingers are intact. She steps to the side to make room.

"I'm in such a hurry," the woman laughs, taking a breath. Her deep brown eyes flicker to Rachel's face, and then her protruding stomach.

"You're expecting?"

"She's due in two weeks," Rachel smiles, a hand instinctively rubbing over her stomach. 

"My two kids are at home. They're cute when they come out, but just wait until they talk." The woman musters a smile and looks forward, recalling a memory. "But they're the best company. Especially when my husband is overseas."

"Overseas?" Rachel asks, heartbeat skipping at the mention of it. 

"Yeah, he's stationed in Afghanistan. But he's coming home today." You can see the sparkle in the woman's eyes as she says this. The hope. It almost makes Rachel guilty. All these worries--and she hasn't even gone through one child yet. Ryan isn't even leaving her yet. All he did was go to school to train.
And now, he'll be here soon. The string of doubt alleviates.

"What about you?" The woman asks, after she concludes that Rachel might not be speaking anytime soon. "Are you coming to pick someone up too?"

"My husband," she answers. "He went to Berlin for basic training. Some military school that I forget the name of. Must be because it's German," she says, and the woman responds with a light chuckle. "It's the first time he's ever left me."

"It never gets easy," the woman says, almost grimly. "But time numbs the pain a little. Having children helps. But then again, they look just like him. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to think about it."

The elevator doors open on Rachel's floor. 

"This is me," Rachel says. 

"I'm one floor up. It was nice meeting you!" The lady smiles. All the warmth embodied inside it gives Rachel's feet some sort of cushion. Like each footstep is lighter.

"You too," she says, but the elevator doors close in at the tail-end of her sentence.

She approaches the terminal. People sit in anxiety all around her--they must all be in the same position. And it's in this revelation that she truly begins to calm down. The weaknesses that left her bending at the knees evaporate into serenity. She wants to be brave for him.

The first steady stream of passengers appear from the gate. The anxious room turns into a discreet uproar--people show their happiness in their unspoken actions. Wide eyes, bright smiles, teeth--you see the end of all their worries. The only thing it reminds Rachel of is falling in love.

She absorbs everyone's happiness like a sponge. 

Her heart feels a sudden lurch, and almost immediately she understands why. She only catches the leather shoes in the corner of her eye--but it's enough. They were a gift from her father. Those belong to him.

"Ryan!" 

She notes the new beard on his face before she is lifted from the ground, twisting in a half-circle around the airport. Rachel squeals in quick bursts until she is put down again. "Mama's getting heavy," his voice chimes in her ear. She doesn't even protest.

She takes in his smell, his uniform, and finally, his face. There are bags under his eyes, obviously from the long flight, and she runs her thumb underneath them. She is still as in love with him as she can remember. She doesn't want to second-guess that he feels the same way--she treasures the glee inside her too much to let weaknesses take her down again.

"Miss me?" Ryan teases, trying his best to keep his arms around her and her pregnant belly.

"More than you can imagine," she says. 

He kisses her softly and in slow motion. 

Then he detaches their lips; and against hers he whispers, "It's been too long since I've done that." Rachel laughs against his mouth, connecting them again. 

For the present moment, she'll be fine. Because she survived the trial of not being with him. There were going to be more to come, and her heart leaps just a little bit at the thought of it. If the fighting overseas didn't end, there was no guarantee he wouldn't be dragged away from her again. But he's here now, along with the promise of their new daughter.

As they pull away, Ryan turns to her stomach. "I can't wait to meet you," he whispers, leaning over it. Then he runs his fingers over her belly. Just like he always has.

I know it's been almost month since I updated this bad boy, my apologies! Most of you know that I'm in college and that leaves me with little time to write anymore. As promised, I'm going to finish this story, just during a longer stretch of time. I'll try to update when I can. For now, let me know your thoughts and thank you for sticking around with my craziness. You guys will always be the best!

“Where is your mixing bowl?” Hayley muttered as she dug around Alex's kitchen cabinets, all of which were a disorganized mess. She made a note to help him out with it later.

“Somewhere,” Alex said, getting the pancake mix out.

“That’s specific,” Hayley retorted. When she finally did get her hands on one, however, she was relieved. At least he had decent cooking supplies.

“How long has it been since you’ve made a breakfast?” She asked, taking the boxed mix from his hands before he could make a bigger mess.

“A while.” He shrugged, feeling the sting of loneliness hit him inexplicably. The comment triggered the fact that his parents were dead. He remembered their bodies when the doctor revealed them at the hospital and his subsequent vomiting episode. Their mouths were set in tight grimaces, all but incoherent against their contorted faces. He felt sick.

Hayley being here quickly managed to numb the feeling out. He was happy yesterday. He had nearly forgotten. It was moments like these where reality had hit him with its iron-clad fist, and he could do nothing but take the blow.

“Are you okay?” Hayley asked, noticing he had gotten a little green.

“I just remembered my parents, that’s all.”

Hayley set everything down on the counter and looked at him, morphing into seriousness. “Are you sure you’re fine…”

“It’s okay, Hayles. Thanks. I’ll get the eggs going.”

They were silent for the majority of the cooking, but instead of bringing the naïve, awkward pauses back into the picture, a poignant kind of silence replaced it. They had time to think, and didn’t worry about it having to be strange or too quiet. Instead, they reflected, and only when they bumped into each other as they reached for the paper towels did they remember they were sharing the kitchen.

“I thought today would be a good day to catch up,” Alex said, his back turned to her. He let the scrambled eggs slide into two plates before speaking up again. “I know we kind of hurried yesterday.”

Hayley slid into the spot next to him and placed a flat griddle on the stovetop. “Let’s get these pancakes going first.” She turned on the flame and began the first batch. He smelled bananas in them. He had only ever had banana pancakes at the Williams household. It was something of a specialty with them. The nostalgia was so great that for a moment he felt as if he were sitting right there, in their dining room, waiting for their once-a-week “Breakfast For Dinner” dinners.

Hayley had been such a constant thing in his life. The moment she stopped being involved in it, he lost a part of himself.

Now that she was here, he felt this burning desire for life. Just because his parents had lost theirs didn’t mean that he had to lose his.

“Is this your mom’s recipie?” He asked, trying to busy himself while she cooked.

“Of course. Even though the pancake mix comes from a box, the basic ingredients are pretty accurate. Do you still remember our--”

He found himself finishing her sentence. “Breakfast For Dinners? Yeah. Definitely.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve had one. I liked when you came over. My parents loved you too, you know. You were the only thing that could have helped me stay in Baltimore that year I moved.”

Alex sighed, remembering the moment again. “Was your argument not convincing enough for them?”

“Oh, I begged. But my dad wanted a new house and blah, blah, blah. Doesn’t matter. At least we still met again, even after I left. Remember Battle Of The Bands?”

How could he forget? Alex recalled it very clearly now, even though it had been years since he last thought about the memory.

//

Alex sits at the cramped venue’s only bar, fishing a fake I.D. from his jean pocket. The bartender looks suspicious already, so he puts on his most mature face as he flashes the piece of plastic in front of the guy. “One glass of Stella."

Alex can make out a very faint “Damn teenagers” before the bartender turns away, finding him a drink.

Ha, ha, ha, Alex sings in his head. It worked again. 

Being on a rookie summer tour was a thrill ride. Senior year had passed more like a blur than anything, and he relished only the most important moments, like Senior Prank Day and the Senior Trip. He realized that it wasn’t hard to walk away from high school if you just did it. The more you were away from it, the more you realized how easy it was. For him, it was easy. Not so much for his girlfriend, Lisa, who wasn’t fond of the idea of leaving all her statuses behind. She was class president, cheer captain, everything but the kitchen sink, really. And she practically had to be dragged off the premises before truly leaving it behind. 

“Here you go, kid,” the bartender says, trying his best to put on a smile. He slides a thick mug across the bar, in Alex’s direction. It nearly slips from his shaky grasp. Alex establishes a grip on it before glancing up at the bartender. The bartender smirks. Alex takes it as a condescending gesture. What is he trying to prove with that smug little smirk? That he’s superior because he probably knows that Alex is too young to be drinking? He’s the one that gave him a drink, anyway. If he really wanted to be smart he should have called out the fake I.D.

Alex shakes away the anger and lets the beer scrape his throat raw. It helps with the confidence. He promises to only have one tonight, since they’re up after the next band. This tour is the beginning for their All Time Low, he thinks. Fearless Records had expressed interest in them as they went on their own self-tour. They were lugging their instruments around on an old bus for now, but he knew that was how things always started out for bands. They’d be on their own tour bus soon enough.

For the present moment, he’d enjoy this little gig. It’s a Battle Of The Bands show, something he didn’t expect but nonetheless welcomes. After days of performing in front of small audiences, he likes the festival-style atmosphere in this cramped venue, and eagerly waits to see all the other bands perform. The spirit of friendly competition is in the air tonight.

And in that moment, all his thoughts define the very root of irony. “Friendly” competition, his snarky conscience screams in his head, and although its only a whisper, he can’t help but acknowledge how right it is.

Because mounting the stage is the next band up. And their lead singer is all too familiar.

He has to bite his tongue in an effort not to scream her name from his position. His hand instinctively tightens on the beer bottle.

“He-llo Nashville,” she speaks into the microphone, taking in what is the largest crowd they have played in front of so far. “We are Paramore.”

A sudden stream of chords is played from the guitarist on her left. Alex is so bent on Hayley that he hardly takes note of the rest of the band until now. He notes the eager drummer who looks too young to be in a band, their hippie bassist, and the reserved lead guitarist who has his eyes trailing on Hayley more than once. He definitely likes her, Alex thinks as he watches them. But then again, who wouldn’t? 

“Explain to me this conspiracy against me.” Hayley explodes in powerful notes from the stage, letting her hair loose. It’s dyed a new shade of red, Alex notices. He almost forgot how much she loved to dye her hair.

From Hayley’s perspective, Alex is but an obscured object sitting in the corner of the venue. She is too keen on impressing this crowd to notice the teenage boy that is all but choking at the sight of her. Her lure is so strong and Alex hopes he’ll be able to stay on the barstool, for his grip is slowly slipping.

When their set finishes, he immediately releases himself from the prison of the barstool. Hayley is walking off-stage in the back somewhere, and he never keeps his eyes off of her. The emotions threaten to burst forth; he is just at arm’s length when, suddenly, Jack’s hand brushes the back of his t-shirt.

“Where are you going?” Jack asks, placing a guitar into Alex’s chest. “We’re up next!”

He is so entangled in his current mission that he forgets the time alloted for their band. Jack is right, they are next. How is he going to focus on this set when all he can think of is his best friend probably sitting just a few feet away from him?

He does, however, manage to stay on track despite it all.

Alex spews out the correct chords and lyrics for their current list of songs. It’s hard to forget any of them because they had been playing the same set for nights on end. The crowd’s energy reverberates off of the walls and that is a tremendous help. For a moment, he lets himself get lost in the exubrance. But that moment is over as soon as the final chord rings and he is back down in the venue, searching for her.

Alex panics when he realizes there is so spark of red hair in the crowd. Nothing that implies she has even stepped on the premises. He can feel his pulse humming beneath his chest. How hard is it to find a girl in such a small venue?

He walks into a few inebriated people and scans their faces. No sign.

Come on, where are you Hayley, his mind screams.

When the search seems futile, he sighs against the mouth of the bar. He lets the energy from being onstage and finding Hayley subside and is calm for a moment. The bar is still buzzing with customers. He thinks they are all using fake IDs, too. Then, a strange sensation creeps up the back of his neck. His palms tighten. He whips around before she can even tap his shoulders and the energy he thought had left him comes surging back.

“Hayley!” Its such a relief to be able to say her name that he actually stands there, stunned.

She leans in and hugs him in a way only she can seem to do, sending butterflies up his stomach.

“This is insane!” She says, pulling away.

Alex asks the first question that popped into his mind when he saw her. “You’re in a band too?”

“Yeah! It just happened, really. We all met at my school.” She tugs on his hand before he can respond and pulls him into the back lounge. “It was too loud out there,” she comments. She’s right, though. The noise is reduced to a low, deep hum from where they stand. “I can’t believe this.”

“Well it’s just as intense for me, too!” Alex buzzes. “I didn’t think I’d see you until later this summer.”

Hayley recalls his annual visits in late July. He had come every summer since she moved, and now, she was able to see him earlier.

“Let’s go meet the guys,” she says. His body immediately tenses despite her calm grip on his hand, gently easing him to where her band is currently stationed. They step out of the back door, leaving the noisy venue behind them. Hayley waves a brunette guy over--Alex assumes it’s the guitarist--and introduces them.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Josh,” the guitarist says in an awkward manner.

“And this is Jeremy and Zac,” Hayley cuts in.

Up close, Alex notices that they dress identically to how he does. There’s nothing menacing about them at all, except maybe Josh’s too-close-for-friendship stance against Hayley. He can’t deny the chemistry between the two. And then he wonders, why is he feeling so protective for her lately? Was it Josh’s presence that incited it, or something else?

Alex abruptly stops thinking when he hears Jeremy speak.“We saw a bit of your set before coming out here,” he says, running a palm through his shaggy blonde hair. “Nice sound. Do you like Blink-182?”

“They’re practically our biggest inspiration,” Alex says, pleasantly surprised. They go on about music, touring, and how good a home-cooked meal sounded right then. Alex reclaims any bad premonitions he had about this band. They were too cool. He takes a glance at Hayley and smiles. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. She just knows.

//

The smell of banana pancakes was intoxicating.

Alex fixed their plates beside the stove and watched Hayley spatula their breakfast onto them.

The memory of Battle Of The Bands spurred on another one: their kiss. The one he still dreamt about. Hayley visited him one winter in Baltimore, the winter after senior year. The winter when they were supposed to be in college, but were too busy with their bands. That was when he did it. They had spent that day going on about how excited they were to have labels interested in their music. All Time Low had just started their first EP and Paramore was just being signed. Nothing was out of place. He didn’t even feel a lust that threatened to claw out of him, he just...did it. And up to this day he fought an inner battle with his brain on whether or not that was a good idea.

She sat adjacent to him at his dinner table, which he felt was far too big for this personal moment. He wanted to be as close to her as possible, because another thought lodged itself into his mind--he was thinking way too much lately--and that was the fact that she would leave soon.

“How long were you going to stay here, anyways?” Alex asked, stuffing a bite of eggs into his mouth to save himself from speaking any longer.

“It was all last-minute. Why, do you want me to go already?”

He saw the joking glimmer in her eye but felt the need to protest anyways. “No! Of course not,” he mumbled, fighting to swallow his food, “I just don’t want to have to face the surprise. Like last time. I had no idea you were going to move away, and you did, and it was really difficult.”

He gave himself time to relax after she seemed to buy his excuse, which wasn’t entirely true. He was afraid to lose her without warning. But he was also trying to make sense of the time he had left. Because Alex wanted to experiment. Maybe it was the pancakes, but the rational part of his mind could hardly catch up with the part that kept running its mouth. And that part said to go get her. Make her feel the way you do. Josh wasn’t here right now, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Her voice rallied him back to the conversation. “I’m looking at about two and a half weeks. It is summer anyways, and we’re not booked for that many shows. That I know of, at least.”

“Wow. That’s a good stretch of time. We better squeeze the most out of it while we can.”

“You act like we’re never going to see each other again,” Hayley said, still slicing her pancakes into neat little squares. “You can still come visit.”

But Josh will be there, Alex wanted to grumble. Instead, he nodded. “Right. But right now it’s only the two of us. And I want it to be special.”

Her eyes found his for a moment. She could swear that she saw a flame ignite behind his brown irises. Something was going on. She knew him well enough to understand when he was thinking of something--and although she couldn’t understand it now, she hoped he’d drop a hint. Alex wasn’t one for keeping secrets. He was hiding something, and only time would tell what it was.

Thanks again for reading and leaving your feedback. I hope to pick up the story plot soon. This chapter is a better look at their past friendship, and acts kind of like a filler. Sorry if my updates are progressively slower, college makes it hard to find any free writing time haha. Enjoy!

“Ugh,” Alex groaned.

He looked at the ecletic new design of some French-Asian fusion restaurant that stood at the once-popular Maryland Ice Cream Shop.
It was a simple enough name, and it suited it just fine. The service and ice cream welcomed in anyone without flashy graphics or neon lights--the exact opposite of what this new restaurant was doing.
It seemed to be the only vendor in Maryland of “Crackle Crunch”. And now, it was gone.

“I hate the economy,” Hayley said.
He was inexpicably delighted by her comment. “Because they put good stores out of business?”
“Yes! I mean, who doesn’t like ice cream?”
“No one,” Alex shrugged, hoping to fuel her fire. She looked cute when she got all rallied up.
Her head was shaking at the new building as if it was the most despicable thing she’d ever seen. “Should we start a petition to bring them back?”
“Hayley, I do love your spirit, but I think the original owner died and that’s why the place went bankrupt.”
“But they robbed Maryland of a perfectly delicious ice cream shop. And more importantly, they robbed us of our Crackle Crunch!”
He was amused at the serious look on her face. She truly did care about this, didn’t she?
“I’ll tell you what,” he began, “whoever finds that ice cream first wins.”
When he didn’t continue, her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Wins what?” Hayley asked. She ran her fingers through her hair and began stepping away from the restaurant.
Alex followed her steady jaunt. “We’ll find out.”

She paused, crinkling her face. “I don’t like surprises.”
“Why else would you think I proposed this offer?” He smirked, and without waiting for her reaction, he continued to amble happily down the street.

//

Once she was inside, Hayley realized how many details she had missed before.
They popped out at her now, as she examined the walls of his old bedroom and realized the wear of time on the wood walls. The posters didn’t change much, and his old acoustic still stood in the corner, collecting dust.
“You still have this?” She laughed as she unearthed a crumpled drawing they worked on together in the first grade, when they finally decided to be friends.
The crayon was smudged and the paper worn out, but you could still trace the lines of the eccentric, polka dot dinosaur.
“I have a bunch of others,” he revealed, opening a drawer and fishing through the remnants of paper clips, notes, and crayons. “Here’s the one where we learned about careers for the first time, and you and I both decided we wanted to be astronauts.”
Hayley shuffled over to his side and peered over Alex’s shoulder. “And now we’re singers. It’s not nearly as fun.”
He laughed as he tucked it away.
Hayley walked outside into the hallway, looking at old pictures on the decorative tables against his house. There were some awards framed up--but they blended in so well with his old family pictures that she probably would have never noticed them without coming closer. All Time Low had gone platinum, it seemed, and she realized that she wasn’t there to congratulate him. A few pictures of the band in Hawaii and Alex spending time with his mother and step-dad were among other pictures. She remembered the summer before 6th grade in Baltimore.

//

Alex approaches her front porch steps, leaving hesitant foosteps in his wake.

He didn’t understand how the rambunctious little girl from kindergarten had become his best friend.
But there she sat, long blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail.
He always liked her house better than his own.

“Hey gap teeth,” he says, placing himself beside her.

She makes no attempt to hide her frustration.“You’re late. We were supposed to meet at 3 o’clock sharp."

"But it's only 3:05." 

“You promised. Now we’ve wasted five minutes when we could have spent it hanging out.”

“It’s just hard to get away from my dad.”

He shrugs his shoulders lightly, trying to smile. Hayley feels the need to take her words back. Her eyes scan his arms for signs of new bruises. There are none, but the fading purple marks from the past are, and it makes her stomach twist in guilt.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex says, aware of what she is doing. “Come on, let’s go play.”

//

The only thing that seemed to be stable between their friendship now was the past. At least she had that to look back on. Up to now, that seemed to be the only common ground between the both of them. She wished she could think of something different, something that pertained to what was happening now.

She took another glance at another picture. It was a clipping on the kitchen cabinet. She and Alex were both fifteen at the time--she could tell by the old navy cap that she wore in the picture, something she always had on during the sophmore year. Behind them was her family’s beat up Chevy. All the context behind the photo came to her then. This was the day she moved to Tennessee.

//

“Do you still have that bracelet I gave you in the sixth grade?” Hayley asks, taking his wrists and scanning through the colorful assortment of wristbands, jelly bracelets, and other beaded crap that he must have begun to collect this year.
“It’s in my room. You’ve got to give me some credit, Hayles. I don’t lose things that easily.” Alex tries his hardest to perpetuate the moment with her, even though Mr. Williams has already fired up the engine.
“Don’t forget to write me. Even if it’s one letter a month, or an email, or something. Let me know how the band is doing,” she says.
He’s trying so hard to keep her every feature etched into his memory. She lurches forward and embraces him.
“I can’t believe I’m moving,” she sighs, digging her face into his shoulder blade.
“I’ll write you. I’ll send you pictures of Baltimore, too, so you don’t forget about it.”
She gently leans backward, still keeping her hands around his waist. “It’s going to be different not studying for finals with you every night. Or eating dinner. Or watching movies. God, I’ll miss the old theater they have here.”
“Promise you won’t love Tennessee as much as you love Maryland,” Alex says.
She rolls her eyes to make light of the situation.“Duh. That’d be impossible.”
“Hayley, it’s almost three,” her mother reminds her from the passenger side.

Hayley begrudgingly tears her hands away from her best friend. “I hate this.”

//

“Oh my God, I will never forget that.”

Hayley jumped as Alex suddenly spoke from behind her.

“I don’t even know why I have that on my fridge. It was such a sad time. I was a bit of a mess when you moved away.” She gently handed him the photograph. His eyes were sullen as he examined it. Then, slowly, his mouth twisted into a smile. “But it’s a nice reminder to myself.”

“A reminder of what?” She asked.

Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “That I should always keep in contact with you. Even though I’ve been terrible as of late.”

“So have I. We need to sit down and talk about everything we’ve missed.”

His doorbell rang, silencing the both of them.

“Open up, Alejandro!” Jack’s all-too familiar voice called from the other side.

Alex shook his head in mock disapproval and walked to the foyer, inviting the rest of the guys to come inside. “My brother, I’ve missed you!” Alex greeted as Jack opened his arms out for him.

Upon seeing Hayley, Jack stripped away from the bromance with Alex and immediately made his way to her.

“Welcome to the best day of your life,” Jack announced, raising a hairspray can up.

Hayley’s eyebrow shot up. “Should I even ask?”

“Alex, do you have a lighter?” Jack angled his way past her and began to rummage the kitchen cabinets.

Alex mouthed a “What is he doing” to Rian, who returned it with nothing but a shrug. He was as clueless as everyone.

When Jack turned around, a lighter in his hands, he finally noticed everyone’s blank expressions. “I’m going to burn some clothes,” he explained in a childish tone, as if everyone should have known that already.

And everyone did understand what he meant once those words came out. Except for Hayley. She was still trying to orient herself around a bunch of guys she hadn’t really known for that long. It was only Alex she shared true ties with, although Jack treated her as if they had known each other for life, anyways.

“He’s probably going to take revenge on Lisa,” Rian muttered to Hayley.

“How? With a hairspray and a--” Then the idea finally clicked. Oh. Right. You can start some fire-torch with those two tools. At least, she thought you could. She had never really seen it in action.

“Gives me an excuse to go shopping, I guess,” Alex said, trotting into his room behind Jack.

“Those two are just two peas in a pod, aren’t they?” Hayley mused, trying to put out the sting of jealousy she felt when she realized how set in stone the Jack’s friendship with Alex was. She felt a little stupid for being jealous. It was her fault she didn’t call him all that often or that she kept their conversations short. Jack was practically Alex’s brother now, just like she could feel Jeremy was hers.

She followed them into his room, trying not to hold her breath as she watched Alex hold up a fairly decent piece of clothing up for Jack’s hairspray-torch. He flicked the lighter and simultaneously sprayed the hairspray bottle, starting a slight flame. “C’mon,” Jack grunted, shaking the bottle a little. Right then and there, a flame did ignite, hitting the hem of the shirt spot-on. Jack’s satisfied laughter followed. He sprayed again and another burst came out from his mini flamethrower. Alex’s hand trembled as another burst completely took his shirt and began a steady stream of red flame.

“We should get this stuff in the sink, before it burns my house down,” Alex muttered, but Jack seemed too caught up in the fact that his invention actually worked and doesn’t mind his words. “Just one more, okay?” Jack begged, and Alex reluctantly lets him give another blow. This time, a pathetic choke came out from the hairspray.

“Guess it’s not working anymore. Okay, go put the thing in the sink. But you have six other pieces right?”

“More like twenty five,” Alex said, already taking the half-burning shirt out of his room.

“Yes! This is going to be a very good day,” Jack said, throwing his gaze to Hayley. “You want to try?”

“I’m good, Jack,” she chuckled.

Is it just me or are these "The Devil Inside" ads totally creepy? Maybe I'm just not good with scary movies, but everytime I'm happily scrolling through buzznet, bam! A goosebump-rousing ad comes along and my heart does a little flip. Not the good kind of flip, either. All I know is I should stay away from any wrinkly, old nuns.

Bah, I'm such a baby.