The Only Exception

Alex fell into Jack's vacated chair. He was glad that his friend had been smart enough to evacuate the area with Sunday in tow, and now, Zack had some explaining to do. "What the fuck was that?" Alex demanded.

With a sigh, Zack slid his cell phone into his pocket. "What are you talking about?" he asked as he picked up his red cup of alcohol.

"Saturday?" Alex repeated. "Are you fucking kidding me? Have you not heard me at all in the last three weeks!?"

Amber flinched. Had Alex really been bragging about Sunday the whole time? She pushed the thought from mind. Maybe she'd only been mentioned in passing. It wasn't like Alex Gaskarth loved Sunday; he wouldn't go around telling his friends all about her. Alex didn't fall in love, especially not with girls like Sunday. She, Amber, was more of his type. "Alex, calm down," she ordered as she started tracing circles in the fabric of the chair that she and Zack were sitting on. "Sunday probably hardly noticed. You know how she's a little... off."

"Why do you do that?" Alex demanded as he jumped out of his seat. His voice was louder than it had been before, and he sounded angrier. "She's supposedly your best friend, but it always seems like you're out to get her or knock her down!"

After glancing around to make sure no one was staring, Zack stood up. "Alex, calm down," he said. "I'm sorry I forgot her name. I'll apologize to her. Okay?"

"Whatever," Alex sighed. He took a long and calming drink of his beer before turning to walk away.

Instantly, Amber was out of her chair and hurrying after him. "Alex!" she called.

He stopped and turned around. "Amber, leave me alone," he ordered. "We have been over for so long. If it was any other girl, you wouldn't even care."

"What do you mean if it was any other girl?" Amber questioned as she crossed her arms. "You and Sunday can't possibly—"

Alex finished off his bottle of beer and dropped it onto the porch, wanting nothing more than some kind of barrier between Amber and himself. It shattered by Amber's feet, and she jumped a step back with a little squeak of surprise. "It's none of your business what goes on between me and Sunday," he declared. And then he turned away from her and walked into Zack's house in search of Jack and Sunday.

He found them dancing. Sort of. He wasn't sure what Jack was doing and at the moment, Sunday was doubled over in hysterics. The song ended, and Jack struck a final pose which prompted Sunday's applause. "Bravo!" she cheered. The crowd around them eventually clapped too.

After ridding himself of the bad mood that Amber and Zack had nearly cast over him, Alex joined Sunday and Jack. "What the fuck was that?" he asked Jack.

"Bro, you know you're jealous of my dance moves," Jack said as he accepted a glass of vodka and Red Bull from someone. It made Alex feel better to see someone else drinking as he clutched his cup of Jager tightly.

"He was pretty amazing," Sunday agreed in mock seriousness. She waved a hand in front of her face; it was hot in the house.

"All hail King Jack!" Jack yelled in a slightly pompous manner. Everyone in the house cheered.

Alex laughed. "I could trump you any day, Jack," he countered. "But luckily for you, I hurt my foot earlier this eve. So for now, enjoy your reign, son." Jack high fived Sunday before walking over to talk Rian, who Sunday had been introduced to by the lanky guitarist.

"Can we go outside?" Sunday asked as she fanned herself again. "It's kind of hot."

"Sure," Alex shrugged. Instead of going back onto the back porch and risking running into Amber or Zack, Alex pulled Sunday out the door of Zack's refurbished basement, which led directly to the beach.

Instantly, Sunday trotted towards the shoreline. She pulled off her gladiator sandals before dipping her toes in the water. "This has been fun so far," she smiled. She looked up at Alex. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Thanks for coming," he countered as he sat down. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out before noticing that he had a text from Zack. He was still somewhat irritated, so he ignored it.

Sunday took his phone out of his hand. "Press that camera button again," she requested. Chuckling at her, Alex obliged. Sunday held the phone out in front of them and smiled. Alex inferred that she wanted to take a picture so he pulled her a little closer and smiled as well.

After she pressed the button, Sunday looked at it and smiled. "I think Jack would say we're sexy if he saw this," she declared.

"Jack thinks everything's sexy after a few drinks," Alex pointed out.

"Shh." Sunday held out the phone again and snapped another picture.

While Sunday looked at the pictures that she had taken, which soon grew to quite a few, Alex lent an ear to the sound that was drifting out to them from the house; almost immediately, he wished he hadn't. He heaved a sigh and fell onto his back in the sand.

Sunday glanced over her shoulder when she realized that Alex was no longer sitting up beside her. "You okay?" she asked.

Alex gave a weak shrug, and Sunday turned around so that she was facing him. "What's wrong?" she asked. She sounded quite affectionate, and she took one of Alex's hands as though the contact of their skin would help to improve his mood. It almost did.

He sighed again and slid his free arm under his head. He couldn't look at her, so he stared up at the dark sky. "It's nothing," he countered. As understanding as Sunday could be, he didn't think that she'd want to talk about what was really bothering him.

There was a moment of silence between them, broken by Sunday when she cleared her throat and looked down. "Is it the song?" she inquired.

He couldn't lie to her; it seemed like the most indecent thing he could do. "Yeah," he said, his throat feeling dry.

Her grip on his hand loosened, and Alex responded by tightening his own grasp. She couldn't let go. Alex felt like if she let go, she'd be letting go for good.

"God, I'm drunk," he frowned. That had to be it. He only ever got emotional when he was drunk.

"Was her name Sunday too?" Sunday asked. She had heard Remembering Sunday before but listening to it with Alex made it different. It changed things and made her think of who had actually caused the song to be penned.

Alex sat up and enclosed Sunday's limp hand between both of his. "No, her name wasn't Sunday," he answered. She was quiet, which led him to figure out that she was waiting for an explanation. "The last time I saw her before she left was a Sunday."

Sunday focused her gaze on a small pile of sand near them. Her mouth was dry, but somehow she managed to work up the strength to ask the question that was nagging at her mind: "Did you love her?"

Alex frowned, not wanting to continue on with the topic. Sunday looked pained as she added, "Please don't lie to me."

"I loved her," he admitted. "I loved her so much."

A feeling of numbness washed over Sunday. She wished that she was alone so that she could cry or verbally scold herself for her stupidity. She was never going to be special to him like the girls that he wrote songs about. He had basically said it earlier when he told her that her song wasn't going on the record. And it made sense. How could Alex love her? How could anyone, really? "Let's go inside and get something to drink," Sunday proposed, standing up. The sudden movement ripped her hand from Alex's, and he didn't reach out for her again.

Alex nodded. "Sounds like a good idea," he agreed. They started back for Zack's house, pausing outside so Sunday could put her shoes back on. Just as they were about to walk into the home though, Alex's cell phone rang. He was prepared to send whoever it was to voicemail, but the screen said that Matt Flyzik was the caller. "I gotta take this," he said. "I'll meet you inside in a minute."

"Okay." Sunday sent him a forced smile before walking into Zack's kitchen. There was a buffet of different bottles lined up on the counter and the island, but many of the titles were things that Sunday had never heard of before. Jager sounded familiar. She unscrewed the cap and picked up a red cup before pouring a small amount of the liquid into the bottom of the cup.

After a drink, Sunday decided she did not like Jager. It was so strong that it caused her to cough for a few seconds after she swallowed it. She put the cap back onto the bottle and pushed it towards the back of the counter.

"You know that's for shots, right dork?" Jack asked as he sidled up next to Sunday.

"I do now," Sunday chuckled as she began inspecting the bottles that were left on the counter. Many of them were nearly empty or had less than half of their original contents remaining. "Anything you would suggest?"

Turning a serious eye to the alcohol, Jack picked up two red cups and set them down on the counter. He opened a bottle of cherry coke and dumped half into each of the cups. Then he picked up a bottle of clear liquid which bore the name Grey Goose and poured some of it into each of the cups. "Cheers," he said as he swished his drink around.

Already feeling woozy, Sunday took a small drink from the cup. "I can't taste any cherry in here," she frowned after forcing the drink down her throat. "But thanks, Jack." She smiled and patted his arm in a grateful manner before walking towards the place where she had left Alex.

But when she found him, he wasn't alone. He was standing close to Amber with an arm resting lightly on her waist. Amber's hands were on his chest and she was talking to him in an animated voice. But Sunday didn't wait around to hear what they were talking about. She had seen Amber act like that around guys; they usually became her boyfriend, and Amber would adore them for a few weeks before casting them aside like a used tissue. With a sigh, Sunday swallowed her drink before placing the empty cup on a nearby table and walking away to find Jack. At least he made her laugh.

Sunday should have stayed to listen. If she had stayed for a few more seconds, she would have found that Alex was fighting off Amber's advances. "Am," he sighed again, "I gotta go find Sunday." He lightly started to walk away, but Amber grabbed the front of his shirt and the sleeve of his jacket in order to keep him with her.

"Wait," she said, her voice starting to sound sad. "Look, Alex," she said as she tried to conjure up tears, "I know I've been awful about you and Sunday. But you have to know that it's only because I care about you a lot... still. After everything." She met his eyes, and a small smirk slid onto her face. "And I know you still care about me, right? Why else would you be hanging around Sunday all the time? It's a classic move, getting to know a girl's best friend to get to the girl you actually like."

It was too much. Alex yanked himself out of Amber's grip. "You're logic is just as fucked up as ever," he said with an incredulous chuckle. "Sorry, Princess, but you're wrong. Completely." And he turned his back on her, leaving Amber both seething and a moment from sobbing.

That night, the timing for Sunday and Alex was incredibly bad. Just as Jack had convinced Sunday that Alex had no feelings left for Amber, Alex had been intercepted by a pretty brunette. And yeah, Alex liked Sunday. But if he thought about it realistically, was he ever going to get anywhere with Sunday? Probably not. With Sunday, it was a lifetime of hand holding and cuddling and small, meaningless kisses. And Alex liked holding her soft hands and falling asleep in a too small recliner with her, but he was a guy. Guys had needs. Needs that the scantily clad brunette would most likely be thrilled to oblige.

So Alex let himself to be led off to one of the bedrooms in Zack's house, a blissful smile playing on his lips.

And Sunday watched him go with her round, puppy dog eyes. She looked at Jack over his shoulder, hoping for reassurance or some kind of explanation, but only found that his eyebrows were knit together in concern. "Sun, I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" Sunday asked, playing up the innocence that everyone knew she encompassed. "He'll be back later." She took Jack's drink and said, "I'm gonna go sit outside. It's really hot in here."

It was true that Sunday was oblivious to many of the things that normal adults dealt with. But she wasn't an idiot. She had watched too many movies and TV shows and heard too many of Amber's stories to know what happened in bedrooms at parties. Especially with girls who looked like that. She began meandering towards some spot far away from Zack's so that she could breathe and think, but she couldn't find an area that felt secluded enough. There wasn't anything left for Sunday at the party anyway, so she began walking towards her house.

She took a drink from Jack's cup before sighing and letting it tumble to the ground. She already felt sloppy and gross.

"I talked to Jack."

Glancing over her shoulder, Sunday saw that Amber was standing a few feet behind her. Her friend still looked gorgeous, but there were a few tear tracks going down her cheeks. Sunday stopped walking, and Amber closed the gap between them. "I'm sorry, Sun. I know that you haven't wanted to admit it or anything, but it's pretty obvious how you feel about Alex," Amber said.

"I didn't even really know until tonight," Sunday divulged. She bit her lip and shook her head, fighting her hardest not to cry. "It's stupid. He'd never like someone like me."

Amber pulled Sunday into her side in a half hug and said, "I'm so sorry about everything, Sun. Let's just go home."

And only when she and Amber were free from their costumes and lying on the couches downstairs talking about the night did Sunday finally let herself cry. The only way she could console herself was with the knowledge that she hadn't lost Alex; she had simply never had him.