The Only Exception

The most common misconception about California is that the weather is warm and sunny state-wide all year long. Winter, people think, doesn't exist in California.

But it does. True, there isn't an influx of snow and bitterly cold temperatures, but California does have it's own form of winter. It comes in the form of rain showers and low temperatures that rest around forty-eight degrees. It's a time when the water is much too cold for frolicking and when dresses are not appropriate attire.

Due to these two facts, winter was one of Sunday's least favorite seasons. She had never seen snow before but sometimes wished that they had it in Huntington Beach. She thought that she needed perhaps a few snow-covered landscapes to enter into one of her notebooks that were filled with sunlit days on the beach. She had tried drawing one once, and when she asked Alex if it was close to the real thing, he had laughed and said it was much too pristine. "Snow turns gray really fast in Maryland," he had explained, "And it piles up on the sides of the streets from snow plows and blowers."

That year, winter hit California hard. It started raining at the end of November and for some reason, didn't seem to want to stop. Sunday had moped about the house for the first week of December in her dresses and shorts, praying that the sun would come out soon, but eventually she realized that it was time for her to admit to defeat, grab her mom's credit card and beg Alex to accompany her to the mall so that she could buy some things for winter.

"I never thought California could be so cold," Alex grumbled as he and Sunday walked through the doors of the Westminster Mall.

Sunday laughed and twined her fingers with his. "Everyone who comes to California in the winter expects it to be like the U.S.'s version of Cabo or Baja," she chuckled. "Not even close though."

"Guess not," Alex agreed as he pulled Sunday a bit closer. "This place is pretty much huge," he added as he glanced around the impressive mall.

"I know," Sunday agreed. She wrinkled her nose as she gazed around it. "I'll try to be quick," she offered.

While Alex normally would've been thankful of the promise of briefness in the mall, he shrugged it off. "Take as long as you want," he countered. Since they had moved past the problems he had inadvertently caused at Zack's, Alex was trying his best to be as nice as possible to Sunday. Nowadays all she had to do was remark that she was remotely interested in something before Alex was pushing her out the door so they could do whatever it was she wanted.

Alex looked up at the sign of above the store that Sunday was leading them to. To his great delight, it bore the enormous words "Victoria's Secret". He grinned. "Especially in here," he added.

Sunday rolled her eyes. "I like their hoodies," she explained as they walked into the store.

A nearby saleslady was the first person to greet the pair as they walked into the store. "Hi, how are you today?" she smiled.

Immediately, Alex felt Sunday stiffen up as she was faced with the prospect of conversing with a stranger. To save her the pain, he replied, "Great."

"Anything I can help you with?" the lady continued, focusing all of her attention on Alex. Although Sunday realized that she was the person the lady should have been offering her services to, she was slightly glad that Alex had taken over the duty of speaking with her. The salespeople were the hardest part of shopping in Sunday's opinion; she didn't blame them for talking to her as it was their job, but she did find it difficult to find anything to say to them.

Alex glanced down at Sunday, who shook her head. "Nope, we're good," he declined, "Thanks though."

The saleslady reluctantly slinked away from them, which gave Alex a chance to look at Sunday. Her expression was one of evident frustration. "I just can't," she explained.

"Sun, it's fine," Alex told her. "Some people just don't like talking to strangers. It's not a big deal. I, on the other hand, talk to pretty much everyone I meet. I think of the two of us, I'm the bigger freak."

She smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem," Alex shrugged. "You could repay me by getting something like... this," he grinned and grabbed a translucent piece of lingerie off a nearby rack, "if it's really that big of a deal."

Sunday's cheeks immediately turned a rosy pink color, and she snatched the lingerie from Alex's hands, shoving it back onto the rack. "Hoodies," she reminded him, "And t-shirts. Focus."

With a sigh of mock exasperation, Alex noted, "You're impossible," before he started walking around the store with Sunday, speaking only when he saw something that he thought she'd like or consider. In his head he noticed several items of interest to him—things made of laces and silks that would provide for an extremely pleasant evening—but resisted pointing to any of these items; he had embarrassed her enough with the lingerie, he reasoned.

Somewhere along the line Alex turned into Sunday's personal clothes rack, though he didn't necessarily mind. It was slightly tortuous that he couldn't reach for his phone to check his text messages or inform Twitter of his current job of hanger.

Sunday was thoroughly enjoying herself. Every time she added something to Alex's arms, he would ramble off a compliment about either the article of clothing or simply her. It wasn't a bad way to spend the time.

Trying on clothes with Alex was strangely fun. He had let Sunday pick up some ridiculous things, which they both laughed out. When she found something that she really liked, he was often supportive (though there were a few things that he shot down). And every time Sunday trotted back to her dressing room, he would inquire about whether she needed any assistance, to which she merely laughed.

Due to Alex's behavior the entire trip—which was almost too good—Sunday was not surprised in the least when she came upon an item in the bottom of her pile that she had not chosen herself. It was gauzy and short, though she assumed it was supposed to be a nightgown. She was rather curious about how the article would look on her, so after glancing over her shoulder—a ridiculous act in and of itself as she was quite sure she had locked the door—she pulled off her current t-shirt and jeans to slip into Alex's item of choice.

"Are you done?" Alex asked, sounding much closer than Sunday was comfortable with. "I need food, or I'm going to die. And then you'd be very, very sad." He twisted the doorknob, and Sunday realized that she hadn't locked the door.

"Hey," he remarked, his eyes sweeping over the mortified Sunday. "That looks great."

"Get out!" she squeaked as she pulled a random hoodie on.

Laughing, Alex obeyed, and Sunday quickly discarded the nearly see-through nightgown. She quickly separated her clothes into the things she would buy and the things to be discarded before putting her shoes on and joining Alex near the return racks in the dressing room.

"It looked so great though," Alex argued when he noticed that the nightgown he had chosen was at the front of Sunday's discard pile.

"Ha-ha," she quipped in a voice that said she was not amused.

The lady standing behind the cash register smiled at them as they approached the counter. "Find everything all right today?" she asked Alex.

For some strange reason, the lady's interest in Alex bothered Sunday. She was further irritated when Alex replied, "Yep," in a cheerful tone. She handed over her credit card without another word to the saleslady and grabbed her bags without responding to the lady's, "Have a nice day!"

When Alex had to quicken his pace to catch up with Sunday, who was much shorter than him, he caught on to the cause of her sudden discontent and laughed. "Are you really jealous?" he asked her.

Sunday looked caught off-guard. "Hah, no," she scoffed. "Why should I care if girls who wear too much make-up and low-cut shirts flirt with you?"

Alex chuckled at her attempt at nonchalance and planted a quick kiss on her temple before taking her bags from her. "She wasn't my type," he added to placate Sunday. It was somewhat of a lie though and was difficult for Alex to say. The lady had been Alex's type: she seemed easy enough, was obviously interested and pretty attractive.

Though she tried to fight it, Sunday had to smile. "So, food time?" she asked. She still had a few more stores to visit, but she knew from past experiences that it was a good idea to provide Alex with food every few hours.

"Sounds—"

Alex had been about to agree when a group of girls approached them. "Hey Alex," one of them, a blonde girl around sixteen, smiled, "I'm really sorry to bother you right now, but do you think we could have a quick picture?"

As soon as Alex had noticed the girls approaching, he had removed his arm from around Sunday and took a step away from her, confusing Sunday. However, it all began to make sense when she noticed a few of the teenage girls sizing her up.

"Uh, sure," Alex agreed. He wasn't bothered by the girls at all; their appearance had just been a shock. When he was with Sunday he had a tendency to forget that he had a band with fans that were likely to show up at common places. He didn't blame them for that all, as long as they didn't invade his personal life (such as visiting his house). And as long as they weren't cruel towards girls that he was with, which Alex was searching for at the moment.

The blonde girl smiled and produced a camera from her purse. She turned to Sunday and asked, "Do you think you could take it? It'll be quicker since we won't have to take two different pictures."

Immediately Sunday's mouth went dry, and she could think of nothing to say. She looked to Alex, who didn't seem to have any advice. "Uh, sure," Sunday squeaked, taking the camera from the blonde girl. The group of five crowded around Alex and smiled enormously. Sunday would have been tempted to laugh when she noticed that Alex was still holding her Victoria's Secret bags, but she couldn't. She felt like all of the girls were staring at her, tearing every aspect of her apart in their minds, even though they were probably only looking at the camera she was holding.

She pressed the circular button on the top of the camera, and a flash erupted. The girls then broke from their poses and began thanking Alex profusely. One of them snatched the camera away from Sunday, which caused her to take a few steps back. The girls continued trying to strike up a conversation with Alex, and he sough out Sunday's eyes. Just one second, please, his brown eyes seemed to beg.

The girl closest to Sunday looked at her for a long moment. If Amber was there, Sunday predicted that she would have ordered the girl to stop staring if she wanted to keep her eyes. When Sunday met the teenager's eyes, the stranger smiled before asking, "Are you Alex's girlfriend?"

Before Sunday could even figure out what to say, Alex had grabbed her hand. "It was nice meeting you all," he said, "I hope I'll see you at the first California show All Time Low play."

"Where are we going?" Sunday inquired at Alex lead her towards a different area of the mall.

"We're going to finish your shopping so we can leave," he explained. They were approaching PacSun when Alex saw a blue flash of light in the glass of the store. He instantly stopped walking and turned around.

The girls feigned looking at the picture that they had taken with Alex, putting on an act of innocence that irritated Alex almost as much as the fact that they were taking pictures of him with Sunday. Sunday noticed this and offered, "Let's just leave. I can finish shopping with Amber later. She probably enjoys it more than you."

Alex was about to decline and insist that they get everything Sunday needed when the girls openly snapped another picture. "Let's go," he agreed, nearly pulling her towards the exit of the mall.

When they stepped outside and were greeted with the cool breeze that had been assailing the town all day, Sunday stepped into Alex's side and slid her arm around his waist, the incident with the girls already out of her mind. "We should go get dinner," she suggested as Alex pushed her bags into the backseat of his car.

Alex sighed and pulled her arm from around her waist. "I don't know if that's a good idea tonight," he countered as he slid into the driver's seat. Sunday's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she walked to the opposite side of the car, and Alex noticed her downcast expression as she struggled with her seatbelt.

"Sun, it's not you," he began as he maneuvered his way out of the parking spot.

"Amber always gets mad when a guy says 'it's not you, it's me,'" Sunday noted.

"But it is me," Alex argued. "Every time I like a girl it feels like it gets out online somewhere and scares her away or ruins it somehow."

"Well, it's not a big problem," Sunday shrugged. Before Alex could open his mouth to argue (which she thought he was about to do) she pointed out, "I never get online."

He laughed, though it was somewhat forced. Even if she didn't see it, Alex didn't want people saying that Sunday looked like a skank or a whore—he'd see it, and it'd bother him. He glanced at her smiling face which looked so unconcerned by the outisde world, and relented. "Where do you want to go for dinner?" he asked.

"Hmm... the funnest looking place we see," she decided.

"Funnest isn't a word," he declared before he could help himself. She stuck her tongue out at him, and Alex chuckled, "Sorry," in an embarrassed tone.

As they continued down the freeway, Sunday began talking about Lake Tahoe in Nevada. She'd heard that it snowed there and made Alex promise that they'd go sometime this winter. He happily agreed, for Alex liked snow when it first fell; it was when it started sticking around for months that he got tired of it.

While she was rambling (which Sunday had a tendency to do), Alex took a long look at her. She looked happy, which was a major improvement because Jack said that she had never smiled while they weren't talking. She had gained a little bit of color back, though nothing drastic as the weather had not permitted her much time in the sun. She had gained some weight, but her old clothes were a still a bit loose on her.

It amazed Alex that he was able to make such a difference in one person. And it also worried him slightly, because he had to find a way to tell Sunday that he was leaving very soon.