Does Your Lack of Conscience Tell You Everything's Alright?

I wonder why Jeffery never wanted girls like the ones attached to Alex's wall. Why didn't he kidnap someone with curves? Why would he want a kid? Why would he force a nineteen year old to look like a kid?

Did his childhood have anything to do with it?

He told me stories sometimes about a child name Jeff who, at the young age of eight, had a teacher force him to do sexual acts. When he tried to tell people what was happening, no one believed him. He ran away from home by the age of sixteen, as the affair with his teacher was still in full swing and he wanted out. No one looked for him.

I always assumed Jeffery was talking about his own life. He never was a creative person when it came to changing names. After all, he changed my name to Elizabeth and that's my middle name. I know Marie was the original middle name of the girl before me.

Plus, Jeffery only told me those stories when he was intoxicated. If I were to bring them up, which I never did, he would probably deny ever telling me such things.

Back to the point: his childhood experiences probably made him have a hatred toward older women. Now that doesn't explain why he won't date women his age or women slightly below his age.

I don't understand why he would want a child in the way that he did. I don't understand what force compelled him to act on that desire.

I don't think I ever will.

"Alice, the sundaes are ready," August's voice distracts my thoughts.

When they arrived back from practice, Aaron demanded that we eat sundaes. August obviously had no say on the matter. No one argues with Aaron and expects to win.

Except our dance instructor.

I stand from my seat on the couch and walk into the kitchen. August and Aaron sit at the table. Aaron is already consuming his frozen treat. He looks up when I pull out my chair and sit.

"These are great," he exclaims, eyes lighting up.

I guess it's similar to a child on Christmas day. Not that I can remember my last Christmas.

"You have a little something on your cheek," I say, motioning to my own cheek.

It’s ice cream.

Aaron wipes his cheek, not only smearing the small dot of ice cream, but adding more, leaving a large amount of the sticky substance covering his entire cheek.

"Is it gone?" he asks.

"Sure," I answer.

August holds back laughs next to me.

"Is it safe to be giving him sugar?" I whisper.

"Probably not," August whispers back, watching Aaron with amusement.

"Just checking."

I take a small scoop of the substance in the bowl in front of me and place it in my mouth. The multiple syrups cause my taste buds to tingle. I suppress a moan.

I haven't had ice cream in awhile.

"So, August." Aaron starts, "your brother is Alex Gaskarth."

"I thought we established that," August says.

"Let me finish my question. Since your brother is Alex Gaskarth, do you know Zack Merrick?"

Who's that?

"I've met him."

Aaron squeals.

"Who's Zack Merrick?" I ask.

"Only one of the sexiest bassists alive. I want to grate cheese on his stomach," Aaron answers.

"That's really weird," August states; then turns to me, "He's the bassist of my brother's band."

Alex has a band?

Oh right, he and Jack left for band practice not too long ago.

"Don't taunt my sexual fantasies," Aaron says.

"I wouldn't taunt them if they weren't exceedingly weird."

"Just because I talk about turning a specific part of the male anatomy into an ice cream doesn't make my fantasies weird."

Oh my.

"Yes, it does."

Aaron huffs and crosses his hands over his chest.

"Anyway, Alice, do you know why my brother has been walking around with a huge smile on his face?" August asks me.

"Maybe he's happy," I answer.

That's typically why people smile.

"But about what?" she pushes.

"I don't know."

How am I supposed to know?

"Are you sure? Did something happen between the two of you while we were at practice?"

"We talked."

"Nothing else?"

"Why do you think it has something to do with me?" I return.

"Because he's walking around like he's received the world's weight in gold. Of course it has to be something about you."

"Well we kissed but that can't be a big deal to him."

Not as big of a deal as it is to me. He probably has plenty of women offering more than just kisses.

"Trust me, it can be," August responds.

What?