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Alex was the moon. This was a true and irrefutable fact. He was a neon glow in a flicker of shadow, dusty light filtering through broken windows. Everybody knew Alex Gaskarth, and whoever didn’t probably wouldn’t live in ignorance for long. It was hard to not know him when his name was passed from lip to ear to pen to cell phone and back again, when every person either wanted to be him or bang him (there was no in between).
He was new, which made him infinitely more attractive.
In Jack’s opinion, he didn’t look like much- skinny, tall, baggy pants and jean jackets and a look of aloofness that placed himself higher than anybody else. It was clear that Alex Gaskarth was just another popular boy fishing for devotees, and Jack was not about to add himself to the crowd that would throw themselves embarrassingly at him in the hallways.
It was strange, though. No matter how much Jack tried to actively hate him, he really couldn’t. Maybe it was the glint of Alex’s eyes in the sunlight that made him so charming, but he felt himself drawn, like the tug of a wave under the moonlight. His voice was quiet, rough in a way that made Jack want to lean in to hear more. Even though he tried to resist, he found himself under the same spell as everyone else. There was no ignoring the existence of Alex Gaskarth. You couldn’t pretend he wasn’t there. He simply was.
Forget strange. It was fucking annoying.
“It’s really fucking annoying,” Jack said into his phone as he stared into the void of the dryer. He was in the laundromat, and it was eleven pm, and he desperately wanted to go home. The laundromat was no place for a teenage boy on a weeknight. “Like, he walks down the hall and people literally turn their heads to look at him. Is this a fucking movie?”
“I think you’re overreacting,” Zack replied, voice tinny on the other end of the line. “I mean, I’ve talked to him, and he’s really nice. He gave me notes for World Hist. Have YOU ever actually talked to him instead of gossiping behind his back?”
“Zack, he’s a wizard, and you are under his spell.”
“Jack, wizards don’t exist.”
“Well, then,” Jack fumbled. “Explain to me why Alex is one?”
“I’m not going to argue with you right now,” Zack sighed, “because it’s getting increasingly obvious that you’re just weirdly fixated with Alex Gaskarth. A shame. Never have I lost my best friend to a very normal popular boy this bad before.”
“Yeah, well, other popular boys weren’t-“ Jack searched for a word. “They weren’t Alex,” he settled on saying. “They weren’t magnetic. You feel it, right? He’s weird. Everyone likes him. It’s irritating.”
“Hmm,” mused Zack. “I don’t know if he’s magnetic. I kind of think he’s just popular. Maybe he’s only magnetic to you.” There was a pause. “I think you should talk to him, like, genuinely. He’s a good guy.”
Jack replied, “That makes no sense. I don’t want to talk to you anymore, you give horrible advice.”
“Ah, you love me.”
“I have to go back to my laundry now,” said Jack, to be annoying. “But I do love you, you’re my best friend, goodnight.” And then he hung up because no way was Zack going to get in the last word.
The laundry beeped in despair, signaling just how done it was. Reluctantly, Jack shut off his phone and put it in his pocket. He popped open the door and began pulling out the clothes, not bothering to lay them flat, because he was a generally well behaved teenage boy and the only source of rebellion he could get was letting the laundry get wrinkly. Also, it was probably a crime to make a guy fold his mother’s laundry in some country out there.
And besides, it was nearing eleven fifteen and Jack wanted to be out of this goddam laundromat already.
He picked up the basket of clothes and shut the door only to find Alex Gaskarth staring at him.
Jack yelped and nearly dropped the laundry.
“Oh, sorry,” Alex said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He was wearing skinny jeans and a Green Day shirt. Good taste, Jack thought but did not say. He looked far too good under fluorescent lighting. His voice was low and gravelly, like a secret kept at midnight. Jack hated that he liked it. As coolly as possible he said, “You didn’t. Scare me.” and readjusted his basket, trying not to look like someone totally lame who did laundry for his mom on a Wednesday night.
“Good,” said Alex, looking strangely relieved. “Sorry, I just saw you over here and I thought I knew you from school. You’re in my bio class, right?”
Why the fuck was he so nice? “I am.”
“I don’t think we’ve talked,” Alex said, and his mouth crooked into a little grin, warm and crinkled around the edges. He was breathtaking. Jack hated him. “I’m Alex.”
“I know,” Jack said, slightly annoyed. “Everyone knows you. I’m Jack.”
“Not everyone,” Alex laughed, and he looked… embarrassed? “You’d be surprised.”
“Dude? What. Come the fuck on. People turn their heads to look at you in the hall. It’s fucking annoying.”
“Oh, shut up, that is not true.”
“It’s true. Believe me. It’s like a fucking movie, dude.”
Alex blushed, and it was strangely endearing, even though Jack had NOT meant it as a compliment. Jack hated how much he wanted to make Alex blush again.
They stood in silence for a second. It was awkward. They had never talked before this. Finally, Alex offered up, “I like your shirt!”
It was a Pink Floyd shirt. Jack had already worn it three times this week, but it was his favorite. “Thanks. It’s dirty.” He held up the laundry basket. “Laundry day.”
“It looks good, on you,” Alex said. He had no reason to be as nice as he was being. Something in Jack’s brain wasn’t clicking.
“Thanks.” It was late. He should probably cut this conversation down. Jack watched nervously as the hand on the clock clicked slowly to eleven thirty. Halfheartedly he offered, “Sorry. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Alex’s expression immediately morphed into something apologetic. “Oh— sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you from your-“ he waved a hand at Jack’s disorganized basket of laundry. “—stuff.”
“You didn’t,” Jack replied. “Don’t apologize.” And he turned to go. “Goodnight, Alex.”
“Goodnight, Jack,” Alex said, soft as a feather, and Jack was left with two new discoveries: one, that Alex Gaskarth was much nicer than Jack had given him credit for, and two, he looked gorgeous when he blushed.
When he got home, Jack typed out a text to Zack. Talked to Alex.
***
They were learning about the parts of a cell in Biology. Jack already knew the parts of a cell, since he had been taught it in every single science class he’d taken from fourth grade to the present. Jack seriously hated Biology, mainly because it was really unlikely that someone would come up to him and shove a microphone in his face and go, hey, if you can name all the purposes of a chloroplast in a cell, I’ll give you a million dollars. This was useless information. School was stupid and should explode, but at least it was a Friday.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was his mom. Jack, next time, can you PLEASE fold the laundry instead of letting it all get wrinkly?
Feeling bad about his semi-rebellious actions from the night before, Jack texted back sorry, won’t happen again, and left it at that.
He glanced up. A few desks down, Alex was drawing on his arm; the same strange shape, over and over again. It was a spade with an eye inside of it. Jack was instantly fixated with the way Alex’s fingers held the pen- he had delicate fingers, long and thin and pale. Piano fingers, Jack’s mom would have called them. He could imagine the way they’d wrap around the neck of a guitar. Fingers that nimble would kill on a guitar. Jack’s own were clumsy on the frets. He didn’t think it was because he had bad fingers, it was probably just because he was bad at guitar.
Alex obviously felt the weight of his stare, though, because he looked up and broke into a shy grin. With the hand that wasn’t covered in drawings, he waved. It was a slightly hesitant wave, and the hesitation behind it was endearing. Jack despised how much he enjoyed the attention.
He had adjusted his belief from Alex Gaskarth is the most irritating person on the planet to Alex Gaskarth is the most irritating human on the planet, and Alex Gaskarth is really, REALLY pretty. So what. The opinions could coexist.
“Mr Barakat, are you done,” the teacher said to him flatly, tapping on his desk as she walked by. Jack couldn’t even remember her name. Ms. Glasgrove? Ms. Griefer? “If you are, may I have your worksheet? And if you aren’t, can you please stop staring at Mr Gaskarth and get your work done?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah,” he stammered, pulling his worksheet out and handing it to her. Right, her name was Ms. Cramer. The fact that he couldn’t remember her name was probably a defining factor in why she hated him so much. Whatever, it was fine. He was still good at biology.
From his desk, Alex huffed a laugh. When Ms Cramer turned to glare at him, he mouthed sorry in defense and went back to drawing on his arm.
Jack didn’t think he was supposed to feel this kind of way about popular boys. He wanted to learn more, not less. He wanted to follow Alex to the ends of the earth if he would let him. It was a stupid, useless feeling, and Jack disliked it immensely.
Obviously, the solution to this problem was to stop talking to Alex Gaskarth.
***
This plan lasted thirty minutes.
After class, before the bell, Alex came up to him and sat down at the desk beside him. The desk was empty because Kevin Fisher was absent. Jack liked Kevin. He was nice and not too popular and didn’t turn heads but he was steady and a good worker. He could talk intelligently about music and he let Jack copy notes if he needed to. Jack thought he had gotten extremely lucky sitting next to Kevin.
Alex placed a small piece of paper on Jack’s desk. “Hey, Jack. Do you want to make a band with me and Rian?”
That was not at all what Jack had expected him to say. “What?”
Alex pointed at the paper. Jack tried not to stare at his fingers. “We should make a band. Zack told me you play guitar. He and I are in World Hist together. He was talking about music.”
“But I’m already in a band. With Zack.” Alex’s confidence was irritating. It was popular boy confidence.
“You can be in two bands,” said Alex, giving him a Look. It was a look that said, don’t be stupid, Jack. It was a look that said, I’m used to getting what I want. Jack would have punched anyone else who gave him that look, but on Alex it was annoyingly attractive, so he didn’t. Instead he said, “I really suck at guitar.”
Alex rolled his eyes, but it seemed almost fond. “I’m sure you don’t.”
“You’ve never even heard me play guitar! We’ve talked to each other, like, once!”
“Yeah,” said Alex. “But you’re kind of cool and I’d like to get to know you better.” He leaned back in his chair to stretch. The sleeve of his jacket pulled up, revealing bare forearm.
At this, Jack’s eyes snagged on the drawings on his arm: the eye inside of the spade. He pointed. “What did you draw?”
Alex glanced down. “Oh! It’s this… symbol. I don’t know. I keep drawing it. I think it’s meant to be something, but I don’t know what I’m going to use it for yet. Do you like it?”
It had the same energy as Alex— inexplicably alluring. Something about the thick lines of the shapes, perhaps. It was cool as hell, but Jack was stubborn and he prided himself on being stubborn, so no way was he going to admit that he thought it was cool as hell. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he decided.
Alex beamed. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled just a little bit at the edges, warm and coffee-brown. He was the most captivating person Jack had ever seen. And Jack, the most sullen boy ever, had made him smile like that.
The bell rang. Alex said, “Oh! Gotta go to the next class! Get back to me about the band. I’ve got a lot of ideas.”
He tapped the paper one more time. Jack looked at it. In a dreadful chicken scrawl, it contained a number. Jack ignored the weird voice in his head that was chanting, you got the most wanted boy in school’s number! and said, “You have terrible handwriting.”
“Oh, and yours is better?” Alex snorted, but he stood up from Kevin’s desk and slung his backpack effortlessly over his shoulder, a movement that would have looked douchey on anyone else. “I’ll see you later, JB.”
Something in the pit of Jack’s stomach swooped as he replied, “Yeah, sure.”
But the lingering image of Alex’s spade wouldn’t leave the back of Jack’s eyelids for the rest of the day.
***
“So, tell me your problem with Alex Gaskarth,” Zack said. He and Jack were at the skate park. It was dusky, the kind of brink-of-summer night that cast long shadows. It was far too warm for late September, but it was also Maryland, which meant the air hung with humidity. “Is it because he’s popular or do you have genuine beef? Because if you guys have a grudge, I was your friend first, and I will beat him up for you.”
“Nah, nothing like that,” Jack said, watching Zack step onto his skateboard. Jack did not skateboard because the one time he had tried, he had become an automatic hazard to everyone in the surrounding area including himself. “That’s a very kind but unnecessary offer. I don’t know why I don’t like him. It’s just the…” he struggled for a word. “The vibes? I guess?”
“The vibes,” Zack repeated slowly.
“That’s what I just said, yes.”
“Explain to me the vibes. Walk me through them.”
“Zachary, you would make a terrible therapist, you do NOT make me want to open up.”
“You’ll open up if I make you,” snorted Zack, which unfortunately was probably true. “But seriously. I don’t understand why you dislike him so much. He’s just a guy. A really nice guy. I could even call him my friend.”
“Okay,” Jack amended. “I don’t dislike him. When I met him, it felt weird. He’s strange. I just think that it’s really annoying that everybody worships the ground he walks on. It feels like he’s this new prince of Baltimore type guy, and everything he says is the law.”
Zack was silent. Then he said, “Jack, that’s a little melodramatic and presumptuous of you.” There was a pause. “Also, never in a million years would anybody look at Baltimore and go I want to be the prince of that place, so that’s just absurd.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Jack grumbled. “I don’t want to talk about Alex Gaskarth anymore. Go do your skateboard thing.”
“No. Do you have a crush on Alex?”
Jack paused. Did he? It didn’t make sense. Someone with a crush probably wouldn’t dislike their crush so much. Although, it wasn’t like he disliked Alex, per se, it was more fond annoyance. And now Jack wasn’t even sure if he was annoyed.
The fact that in literally two very short very awkward conversations Jack had changed his opinion from hating Alex Gaskarth to thinking about him kindly was incredibly concerning.
Zack barreled on, immune to Jack’s emotional turmoil. “I don’t know, man, you say you hate him but then you talk about feeling ‘magnetized, by him or whatever, and you talk about him a lot- like, a lot more than you talk about ANYBODY. I’m not homophobic, I’m just genuinely curious-”
“No,” Jack cut in, albeit a little uncertaintly. “No, I don’t think I do. I’m probably not gay, but I also don’t really care.”
Zack visibly considered this. Jack visibly considered hurling himself off a cliff.
Finally, Jack prompted, “Zack, you have dragged me to a skate park. Please leave me alone and go skate.”
“Fine,” Zack agreed, but in a tone that made it clear he wanted to revisit this topic later. He kicked off the board, giving a little salute. In loving return, Jack flipped him the bird, because he was the most mature teenage boy in the universe.
***
It was the kind of midnight that made you want to go run around in the empty street. It was the kind of midnight that felt small, like a universe just for you. Jack was laying on his back on his bed in the dark. The current activity he was partaking in was called ceiling fan observation.
A car went by. The lights reflected on the wall, casting it in gold and red for a brief second before vanishing once more. Fall Out Boy was playing from Jack’s iPod, too quiet for his parents to hear down the hall but just loud enough for his own ears. My heart is on my sleeve, wear it like a bruise or black eye…
And that’s when Jack knew. Because Zack had been right as always, which was annoying.
He did have a crush on Alex Gaskarth.
This was a very strange realization.
Every time he had told himself he hated Alex, it was precedented by a jump from his stomach to his throat- he’d convinced himself it was annoyance. But it wasn’t, right? He had had lingering thoughts about Alex’s eyes and his hair and his hands and his smile but he had told himself it was all jealousy, envy, irritation that this one new private school kid could swoop in and upend the entire school hierarchy.
Jack couldn’t believe he had been this unaware.
He had never thought too hard about his sexuality. His parents didn’t give a shit what he did, not really. Joe and May were both straight but Jack had honestly not given a flying fuck about labels. He had dated whoever would take him. He’d enjoy it. But he’d never actually liked any of them, not how he liked Alex, and that revelation was horrible to have at midnight.
He remembered he had left Alex’s number in his bio notebook when he left class earlier. Jack pulled it out and typed in the number.
Jack: hi its jack. still up for that band
Alex replied almost immediately.
Alex: FUCK YEAH ALWAYS!
Alex: ill be at rians house tmr night hes having a party
Alex: i probably wont be able to talk during class because im rlly behind on bio (sorry ms cramer!) but i am typically a bit of a wallflower at parties so ill definitely have the chance to talk to you about it then
Parties were not usually Jack’s scene. Actually, he had never been invited to one- yet another reason why he had fooled himself into hating Alex Gaskarth, who was constantly invited to and attending dozens of them. And everyone with common sense knew that Rian Dawson threw the best parties.
Texting Alex had been an impulsive decision that Jack was beginning to regret, so he texted Zack instead.
Jack: hey zack. 1.) you were right i definitely like alex, 2.) he invited me to dawsons party should I go?????
Because Zack was a normal functioning human being and not a complete disaster awake at one am, he did not reply. It was okay. He’d reply when Jack woke up.
***
He woke up to a text saying, go to the party, loser. go get ur man. Jack sent back a gif of a cake exploding that was supposed to symbolize Zack. To this, he received the reply, if you go to the party and u make out with alex gaskarth u owe me a fruit basket.
***
Rian Dawson was the Gretchen Weiners to Alex’s Regina George; if Alex was the moon, Rian was the sun, bright and loud and radiant. Jack knew they had been close friends for a really long time. Like Alex, Rian was well known and well liked. He was smart and played the drums and had a million friends and a big, perfect smile. One of the reasons he was as well known and well liked was that he threw amazing parties. Well, and the fact that he was pretty hot, but that was irrelevant.
So Jack was in a house owned by pretty people and surrounded by pretty people and he felt hopelessly out of his depth. The party was the kind of party you’d see in a coming of age movie. The lights were as flashy as a headache. It smelled like beer and weed and bad teenage decisions. Rian would have a hell of cleaning this up tomorrow.
Zack had refused to come (bastard) because he’d claimed “it is a rite of passage for a boy to go to the Dawson household and reemerge a man” whatever that meant. Jack didn’t even think that Zack KNEW Rian Dawson, much less enough to be aware of a RITUAL or be invited to his HOUSE, but whatever.
Because now he was in this big house full of people. By himself. He didn’t feel lonely, not really, just alone.
So he was hanging out in the corner, like a loser, back against the wall and lurking. He was considering going home, but people watching was also interesting. Jack conducted a self-game of I-Spy. He counted four couples making out, three redheads, five people he knew, and seventeen red solo cups.
No Alex, though. Alex was nowhere to be found. Jack had texted him here at the house! are you? and he had gotten no response in the past thirty minutes. Slightly worrying, but generally no big deal; Alex had a driver’s license, he was smart, he’d be fine.
When had Jack even gotten so concerned about Alex Gaskarth anyway? Sometime in the two conversations they’d shared, Jack had fallen for him. Or something. It was strange to think about, and Jack didn’t know how to feel about it. Like, he’d never had a crush before— not REALLY. So to suddenly be slammed headfirst into reluctant feelings of admiration and attraction was REALLY WEIRD.
Did he want to kiss Alex? He was gorgeous, with his doe brown eyes and fluffy hair and soft lips. But Jack wasn’t sure.
He’d probably know when the time came. Or something.
“Jack!”
Jack looked up. Alex had clearly decided to make an appearance. He was carrying two red solo cups in varying states of distress. One was covered in the remnants of a hangman game. The other was covered in a sharpie symbol, over and over again- the eye inside of the spade.
“What happened to your cups?” Jack asked.
“What cups?” Alex said. Instead of responding, Jack pointed wordlessly at the cups. “Oh, these cups. Well. You see. John O’ Callaghan and I thought it would be a really fun idea to play hangman. But we had a sharpie but no paper or anything, and John didn’t want to ruin Rian’s nice table, so we wrote on the cups instead. By the way, have you seen Rian?”
“Unfortunately, no, but this is a hell of a party.”
Alex slid down the wall to sit on the floor by Jack’s feet. Jack slid down to join him.
“I like partying,” Alex hummed, sipping his drink. He handed the other mutilated, drawn on solo cup to Jack- the one with the spades- who took it but didn’t drink it. “It’s a lot of fun. I feel… hmm. Not quite alive. Not quite dead. Like I’m somewhere in between who I used to be and who I’ll be tomorrow..”
Dryly, Jack responded, “I thought you said you were a wallflower.”
“I am,” said Alex. “But, like, not tonight. I’m kind of anxious tonight. So partying it is.”
“Too anxious to be a wallflower? Aren’t wallflowers supposed to be anxious? Have you read The Perks Of Being A Wallflower? I think you would like it.”
“I don’t fucking know, dude, I never read that book.”
“Really!”
“Really.”
They sat in silence for a moment. It was comfortable silence; not awkward or tense. Then, Alex turned to him and said, “You have really nice eyes, did you know that?”
He was probably joking. Jack ignored the annoying flutter in his stomach. “No, I didn’t.”
“Hmm,” said Alex. “Well, you do. Someone should have told you. They’re so big. And deep. Like holes.” His eyes widened. “That’s not a bad thing, though! I promise. Like, they’re eyes you can make a home in. Like a hobbit hole! I’d make a home in your eyes. They’re lovely.”
He tapped the corner of Jack’s eye- or tried to. His finger slipped and he brushed his cheek, instead. Jack felt the warmth rush to his face. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Attempting to deflect from whatever that had been, because he was a coward, Jack said, “So you wanted to talk about the band, right?”
“Oh,” Alex said. “That’s right. Well. Zack said he plays bass and that you play guitar? Rian plays drums. I was thinking we could do something. I’ve actually been wanting to form a band for a while.”
“And I’m the perfect candidate? I’m sure there are tons of guitarists in the school. We’ve talked, like, once.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while, but you kind of scare me.”
Jack was incredulous. “I? Scare you? You’re like the prince of the school, everyone loves you, there’s no way that I scare you.
Alex blushed, putting his head in his hands. “Shut UP, you’re like, all quiet and intimidating and stuff.”
“I’m only quiet when I’m dead!”
“Okay, maybe you’re not quiet,” Alex amended, rolling his eyes. “But you always seemed like you were content doing your own thing, and I didn’t want to burst in and ruin that. But you’re like, a really cool guy.”
Jack grinned. “You know, I always thought you were, like, this HUGE asshole.”
“Me? What? Why? I’m fucking awesome! Sometimes, at least.”
“I don’t know, you’re popular, so I assumed you were a jerk!”
“Popularity doesn’t equal assholery, Jack. I thought you were less shallow than this.”
“I’m always exactly as shallow as necessary,” Jack said, smugly. He took a sip of the drink Alex had given him, which turned out to be Pepsi. He turned the cup and looked at the designs Alex had drawn. “I saw you drawing this on your arm yesterday. What is it?”
“Yeah, you asked me that earlier,” Alex said. He turned his own cup in his hand, so that the hangman shown read ‘DRUNK’ in bold letters. “I think I might use it as the logo, if we do make a band. I think I really like it.”
“It’s cool,” Jack murmured. “Do you know what we’d call the band?”
It occurred to him that he had said ‘we’. Like it was a thing they were doing together. For some reason, the word felt… nice. Like they were a team. The idea of them being a team was strangely appealing.
“I have this whole idea planned out,” Alex said, and reached into his pocket. “Where is it.. Ah! Here.” He fished out a piece of crumpled paper and put it on the floor, smoothing out the raggedy edges.
Jack looked. It was written in Alex’s messy chicken scrawl, blue ink bleeding from the ring of a cup. At the top it read, “Influences: Green Day? Blink 182? FOB?” Underneath that, a drawing of a rose inside a circle, a skeletal hand, an octopus wrapped around an anchor, and a dragon. Beneath the drawings, Alex had written, “jackets for each of us? Uniforms? Not quite a story band, but definitely make it have a coordinated feel. Maybe color palettes.”
Alex said, “Okay, so it’s this band, and I want to call it the Young Renegades, because the thing is I want it to have this certain vibe and that vibe is sort-of-punk-but-really-more pop. Do you listen to Fall Out Boy? Green Day? Blink?”
“Yeah, I love those guys,” Jack said, excitedly. “They’re the fucking best.”
“Good taste! I knew I picked the right guy.”
Jack’s heart pounded. Alex’s face was SO CLOSE, long eyelashes fanning on his cheekbones, cow brown eyes wide and eager. He was cute when he was excited, Jack decided. His face got all flushed and he used his hands a lot when he talked and it felt like his voice lit up.
Alex continued on, completely unaware, “So we’d use them as influences to keep that sort of pop-punk vibe! I think I’d want it closer to pop, though. I don’t know, I listen to a lot of music, but I DO know that I want to do music for the rest of my life. It’s that thing where it brings people together. I really want to be a part of that. If I can connect people, even once, I’d be happy, I think.”
“I can’t believe I ever thought you were an asshole,” Jack murmured, slightly starstruck and feeling more than a little like he definitely wanted to kiss Alex Gaskarth.
“I can’t believe you did, either, because I’m fucking awesome.”
“I’m so glad I see that now.”
Alex looked up at him, lip caught between his teeth. “Yeah?”
Jack grinned. “Yeah.”
Around them, the party was still raging. In the corner, two unidentifiable people were terrifyingly close to getting to first base in Rian’s living room.
Alex said, “I hate to ask you a favor, because we still don’t know each other too well yet, and we’ve only had two actual conversations, but can you drive me home? Rian drove me here after school but I don’t have the car and I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Yeah, that is completely fair, I’m pretty sure those guys are about to fuck, and I do NOT want to be around to see it,” Jack said, standing up shakily. He offered Alex a hand, who took it, fingers fitting just right in between Jack’s. “Sorry if my hand is sweaty.”
“It’s fine,” Alex replied, and smiled.
***
Jack liked to describe his car as aesthetically messy, but if you asked his mother, she’d say it was a complete fucking disaster. There were papers strewn on the seat and a dying car scent thing hung from the rear view mirror. He had an empty can of coke crumpled in the console cup holder and old chip bags in the door slots.
Alex got in the passenger seat and put his feet up on the dashboard almost immediately, He was wearing checkered vans. When Jack got in, he said, “Can I pick the music?”
“Yeah, go for it,” Jack said. He didn’t really use the car radio too much. It was his most defining character flaw.
The song that came on was Going Away To College. Alex said, a little softly. “This is my favorite Blink song. I can’t remember the last time I heard it.”
“Ah, it’s on just for you.”
“Must be a coincidence, but it sure is a welcome one.”
Jack said, “Hey, I know a place we could go.”
Alex looked up from where he was idly tapping the beat on his leg. “Other than you driving me home, you mean?”
“Yeah,” Jack grinned. “Are you hungry? Want to go to Mc Donald’s?”
Alex visibly thought about this. “Yes,” he decided. “Rian’s horrible at having any kind of food in his house, and I haven’t eaten since, like, school lunch.”
Jack pulled shifted the car into drive and pulled out onto the street. “Ah, did you have a horrible chicken sandwich?”
“Three wilted pieces of lettuce,” Alex muttered. “You know it. They NEED to get better food.”
“Ugh, GOD they do.”
“I can’t wait to graduate.”
“Me too,” Jack said. “Only… uh… how many more months. I don’t like math.”
“We’re in mid-September… that’s nine months,” Alex supplied, and then groaned. “Ew, I don’t WANT to fucking wait nine months to get out of here.”
“Bouquet of closing words, a simple melody,” Jack sang, because they were talking about going away to college, and the song was still playing.
“This world’s an ugly place, but you’re so beautiful to me,” Alex grinned.
“I am? Thank you.”
“You are, but I’m quoting the song.”
“That’s so sweet of you. I never thought I’d be told that I’m beautiful by the hottest boy in Baltimore,” Jack said, and couldn’t believe his own confidence.
“Well, maybe you need to be told that you’re beautiful more,” Alex shot back, fond. “And I am NOT the hottest boy in Baltimore. There are many hot boys in Baltimore. Have you seen Rian, for example.”
“Eh, Rian’s fine.”
“I’m going to tell him you said that.”
“You will do no such thing, Alexander Gaskarth,” Jack chided. Outside, the lights of streetlamps and diners rolled by.
“It’s a free country, I do what I want,” Alex said.
“Oh, look, we’re here,” Jack said loudly. “What do you want to order.”
Alex leaned over Jack to see the drive through menu. Jack tried not to kiss him or do anything embarrassing. After a long minute, Alex sat back down in his seat and said, “Fries. And a strawberry milkshake.”
“You like strawberry milkshakes?” Jack shook his head in disgust. “Sorry, we can’t be friends anymore.”
“This is massive betrayal,” Alex joked. “I thought you would support me in my decision.”
Jack placed the order and drove up to the window to get their food. Once he got it, he parked the car in the parking lot and they just sat there.
The next song on the radio was Hum Hallelujah.
Alex said, “I don’t know why I decided to talk to you in the laundromat. I had avoided talking to you, because. I don’t know. I liked you a lot, and you were intimidating.”
Jack looked at him. And he couldn’t stop looking. Alex wasn’t looking at him, it was more like he was looking beyond him, like he was afraid to make eye contact. “And I heard what you were saying to Zack, and you said you thought I was a wizard and that’s why you felt drawn to me, and then I had to talk to you, I just had to. To get inside your brain a little. So that maybe we could be friends.”
“Oh my god, you HEARD that?” Jack groaned, face flushing. “I said so many mean things! I said you were fucking annoying!”
Alex laughed. “Yeah, but, like, you also said you felt magnetized to me. Do you still?”
And, well. He did. He really fucking did. “Yeah, I do,” Jack answered, voice hoarse.
Alex smiled, and his eyes crinkled on the corners again, and Jack knew he’d said the right thing. “I do too. Feel drawn to you, that is. And that’s a really fucking lame and cheesy thing to say, but it’s. It’s true.”
Jack whispered, “Are we about to kiss in a Mc Donald’s parking lot?” because Alex’s face was very close and he was looking at him now, he was looking and not looking away.
Alex said, “Maybe. Only if you want to.”
Jack leaned in first, and Alex met him halfway, and it was everything Jack had hated him for turned better, it was neon lights in low lit bars and the sunrise when you’re driving out of town and a crowd cheering and the strum of an electric guitar. Jack fisted a hand in his hair, which was as soft as he’d imagined, and felt more than heard Alex’s sharp intake of breath, all the way down through his spine.
It was satisfying. It was really fucking satisfying. Jack wanted to do it more. He wanted to feel this forever.
At last, Alex broke the kiss and whispered, “Hey, your Big Mac is going to get cold,” and Jack lost it, dissolving into giggles.
“Oh, my god, don’t talk about my fucking cheeseburger, we could be making out right now!”
“We just made out! And I’m hungry!”
“Fine, eat your fries, you heathen,” Jack said theatrically, waving a hand dismissively.
“Fine. I will.”
“I’m going to drive you home right now.”
“Ah, I know you love me,” Alex said, grinning, and Jack couldn’t even bring himself to disagree.
***
When they got to Alex’s house, he leaned over the console and said, “Thank you for the fries and the strawberry milkshake.”
“I still think you’re insane for that, because fruit and milk do not mix,” Jack said smiling. “But I’m going to forgive you.”
Alex laughed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
Jack echoed, “I’ll see you Monday.” And then when Alex got up to leave, he said, “Wait,” and pulled him in to kiss him again.
Alex’s eyes were glittering, and his face was flushed and pretty and Jack wanted to stare at him forever and ever, but instead he just said, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Jack,” Alex whispered, so softly, and then he left the car, closing the door behind him, but gently enough that it didn’t close all the way, probably because he was nice and didn’t want to damage the car. Jack watched him go inside, feeling fond, and then leaned over the console to close the door properly.
The night air still felt crisp. It was bordering on twelve o’ clock, and Jack rolled down the windows, feeling the wind on his face.
He would go home. He would finish his homework and maybe send Zack a fruit basket for forcing him to go to Rian’s party. And then he would wake up in the morning and on Monday he would see Alex and his heart might skip a beat, and they might share a smile only for them, and then they would form a band and tour the world and maybe, just maybe, they could conquer it, one broken stereo at a time.
And honestly? Jack kind of couldn’t wait.