Status: In Progress [:

The Only Exception

The Type of Feeling That Can't Be Explained

"Where are you going?" Sunday demanded, arms crossed. She didn't look angry, per se, but there was obvious irritation lurking in her face.

With a sigh, Alex pulled a few t-shirts from the top drawer of the dresser in his bedroom. "New York," he explained, "And it's just for a few days, babe."

"Why do you have to go there," she made a face, "when you have Matt Squire here?" She sat down on his bed next to his suitcase and removed the few items that he had placed inside it. She then stood up from Alex's bed and began walking the objects—a hoodie and a pair of Nikes—back to their designated location in Alex's closet.

"Sun, what are you doing?" Alex inquired as he watched her struggle with a hanger.

"You're not being reasonable about this," she argued as the Nikes fell from her arms. She gave up on the hanger and, with a huff of frustration, threw it upon the ground before she took a seat next to it and crossed her arms again. The pout on her face was nearly enough to make Alex laugh, but he refrained, not wanting to anger her.

He kissed the top of her head as he collected the hoodie and the shoes. She looked momentarily placated until Alex returned the articles of clothing to their new places inside the suitcase. "Alex," Sunday whined as she stood up.

If it had been any other girl, Alex probably would have requested that she leave him alone so that he could get ready to go do his job. He expected people—his friends, family, girlfriends—to understand what being in All Time Low required of him. But Sunday was different. He felt bad for having to leave, but he knew he couldn't just call and cancel on the producers waiting on him. Instead he was going to have to try to make her understand so that they could spend his last night in Huntington Beach in peace.

"It's just a week," he pointed out.

"Seven days, the relsease of that movie you said we'd go see and one lunar eclipse," Sunday retorted.

This time he had to laugh. "So that's why you're so upset," he chuckled as he took a seat on the edge of his bed and pulled Sunday onto his lap. "A lunar eclipse, eh?"

"Leave me alone, you damn Mountie," Sunday snapped when he tried to plant a kiss on her shoulder.

"Ouch, Canadian jokes," Alex cringed. "Why don't you just come with me to New York? Eh? What do you think of that?"

Her eyebrows inched together, and she frowned. "Stop saying eh," she requested.

Alex hugged her a little closer, enthused by this new option that he hadn't thought of until that very moment. "Come to New York with me," he urged more seriously.

Sunday shrugged her shoulders. She had never been to New York before, and she had heard wonderful things about it from Amber. It would probably be nice to see snow too; Alex had explained when he started packing that it was cold and snowy in the city. And it would be nice to leave the dismal household that her grandmother was running, as Mrs. Phillips was too distracted by the separation she and her husband were currently immersed in.

And then logic set in. "I can't," she countered, shaking her head and breaking Alex's hold on her. "I think I'm just going to go home. Have fun in New York."

For a moment Alex considered allowing her to leave so that he could wall in his disappointment for the remainder of the night while he packed for New York. They could deal with their problems when he got back. It sounded like a wonderful plan to Alex—he didn't have to face the problem at the moment and maybe it would just be forgotten when he came back.

However, it took him no more than a minute to realize that his indifference may not put Sunday in a good mood for the week of his absence. So he rose from his bed and took two steps to close the distance between them. "Hey," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, "I'm being a dick again, huh?"

"Well, I certainly think so," Sunday agreed, "but I guess you can't help it. It's not fair of me to be upset about you leaving when you can't really help it."

She was very right, but the knowledge that he was undoubtedly going to have to leave her sometime made him feel bad. Sure, it was only a week now. But what happened when it was eventually a three, four month tour? Tours were inevitably, especially for All Time Low. They were rising and rising fast. Their next tour was already looming on the horizon in March.

"So let's not fight about it," suggested Alex. "It's just a week, babe, and I'll make up missing the lunar eclipse. I promise."

"What happens when it's not just a week though?" Sunday asked, her forehead puckered in worry.

Alex didn't have an answer. He had no idea, he really didn't. "Let's just worry about tonight," he suggested, planting a light kiss on her temple. "Why don't you stay over tonight?"

While Sunday and Alex had spent the night together several times, Alex's suggestion made staying with him sound totally foreign and like something she had never before done. "But where would we sleep?" she asked, glancing around the room. At her house they had always slept on the couch or the beach.

"My bed," Alex shrugged.

"Both of us?" Her voice was coming out a little higher than Sunday would have liked.

He chuckled. "It is a pretty big bed."

As soon as he sensed her hesitation, Alex loosened his grip on her and became very interested in one of her long curls. "But if you don't want to, I guess—"

Sunday turned around to face him and smiled. "No," she countered, "It sounds lovely. I just have to go home and let my grandmother know and get some stuff."

An enormous grin took over Alex's face as he pulled on a pair of shoes. "I'll come with you," he said, grabbing her hand.

She giggled as he led her to the front door of Zack's house. "We only have, like, twelve hours left together," she pointed out, mocking Alex's sudden clinginess. Nevertheless, she interlaced her fingers with his and took a step closer to him.

When they entered the Phillips' house, they were greeted by only one light. Ann Rintali was sitting on the pristine white couch in the upstairs sitting room, a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her aristocratic nose and a novel sitting between her delicate hands. "You're home late, darling," she noted when Sunday closed the door. She didn't look up from her book before she continued, "Would you like me to make you a bowl of soup before bed? It's vegetable and was rather agreeable."

Sunday cleared her throat. "Uh, actually Grandma," she began as she took a step away from Alex. Their hands were still clasped together, and their distance made this fact more noticeable. Ann's bright green eyes stared at them for a few moments.

While Sunday didn't like lying and rarely premeditated lies, the scrutinizing look that her grandmother fixed Alex with didn't lead Sunday to believe she would be permitted to return to Zack's if she asked permission. So for the first time in her life, she lied to her grandmother. "Amber and I made plans for me to stay the night, but she's having some car trouble so Alex offered to drive me."

Ann closed her book and placed it on the coffee table. "That's wonderful, dear," she smiled, "Go collect your things. Alex can sit here a moment with me."

While Sunday looked proud of herself for being able to convince her grandmother, Alex knew that Ann was not fooled as soon as Sunday disappeared to the top level of the house. "Alex, does my granddaughter intend to spend the entire evening with you?" she asked in her formal British accent.

"Uh... yeah," Alex admitted, though he didn't wilt under Ann's slightly intimidating gaze. He could see that she cared about Sunday and hoped that if she was told the truth she wouldn't object.

"How remarkable," she replied, "In my day young ladies would never. Though we did, admittedly."

Alex grinned unconsciously but was saved the trouble of thinking of anything to say when Ann continued, "I doubt the absence of her father is going to bode well for her behavior." She seemed to reprimand herself slightly before she added, "Not that I'm implying that Sunday is inclined to misbehavior. She's quite the angel normally. In fact, I think this little dishonesty is good for her, though I am glad to know where she'll be."

"She's great," Alex nodded before his smile faltered slightly. "Do you know if Mr. Phillips is coming home anytime soon? Sunday's kind of worried about it, and I'm going to be gone this week, so..." He shrugged. "Just a little worried, I guess."

"I'm beginning to doubt whether he intends to come back," Ann admitted with a sigh.

Alex nodded uneasily, and his attention was stolen from the conversation when Sunday came running down the stairs, a large book and a box in her arms. "Let's go!" she said excitedly, grabbing Alex's hand again. "Goodnight, Grandma! I love you!"

When they were back in Alex's room at Zack's and Sunday had deposited her things on the floor, Alex pulled her in for a spontaneous kiss. "What was that for?" she asked, looking slightly punch-drunk.

"I love that you tell people that you love them all the time before you leave," Alex explained as he began packing again. He was haphazardly throwing things into his suitcase, his intent being to finish as soon as possible so that he could devote his last night in California to Sunday.

"But I do love her," Sunday pointed out as she stood up on Alex's bed and gave a little bounce. "I haven't spent the night at someone's house in a long time," she commented as she jumped up, a giddy smile forming on her face.

"You're insane," he noted as pressed a button on his laptop, rousing it from it's sleeping state so that he could check a few things before he packed it as well.

His first intent was his email, to see whether Matt had gotten back to him about that hotel that he requested close to the studio, but he was sidetracked when he saw that he had an email from Jack. It was strange because Jack normally called or texted him if he wanted to get ahold of him. Granted, Jack was in L.A. with Zack and Rian. Alex clicked the email.

Are you dead? I've texted you like seven times. You gotta check this link out. Fair warning, you're gonna be pissed.

http://www.blogspot.com/topic/Alex-Gaskarth/56234


Alex let the arrow hover over the link for a moment before he clicked. He could hear Sunday speaking, but her words weren't registering in his mind. And as the page loaded onto his screen, her voice seemed to fade.

He didn't have to read the whole page. The first thing he saw were pictures of him and Sunday, the ones from the mall. Then the title: Alex Gaskarth's New Girlfriend!

His eyes scanned the small paragraph that had been posted next to the picture of him and Sunday. The girls talked about meeting him, about how nice he'd been, which just caused anger to boil in Alex's veins. Then they talked about how quiet Sunday was and how she seemed a little strange. The only thing that they said that would have made Alex smile was how they noted that she was gorgeous, though she looked young, maybe seventeen or eighteen.

A loud thump brought him back to reality, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that Sunday had jumped off of his bed. "You didn't hear anything I just said," she commented, sounding amused.

"No," he admitted as he hastily tried to close the page.

"I'm not your girlfriend," Sunday said, her nose wrinkled, as she took in the page. "Hey, it's those pictures from the mall."

"Yeah, not my girlfriend," Alex agreed as he slammed his laptop shut a little too forcefully.

Sunday's face looked pensive. "Do you think I... you know, could be? One day?" she asked softly.

Another thing he loved about her. She asked questions like that and not in the way that some girls did, the way that made it so that anything Alex said wasn't the right thing. "I already love you," he admitted as he stood up and dropped his laptop case on top of his suitcase. "But I think it's a topic that's open to discussion."

Her concerned frown was replaced by a beaming smile that lit up her entire face and brought a little blush to beneath her tanned skin. "That's... nice," she grinned, unable to think of a more eloquent response.

"So what's this stuff that you brought over?" Alex asked, feeling the need to change the subject.

Sunday sat down on the floor, pulling strange parts from the box. "Well, if your house is anything like mine," she began as she began connecting the parts, "we should be able to get on the roof pretty easily from the attic."

She picked up her newly constructed telescope and the book that she had brought over and asked, "You up for it?"

"You're insane," Alex decided as he stood up. Nonetheless, he added, "I'll grab a blanket."

"And hot chocolate!" she interjected excitedly.

Sunday's book turned into a map of the sky. As they sat together, Sunday kept one of her eyes pressed to the lens of the telescope, offering it to Alex when she noticed something of particular interest. Mostly, Alex sat next to her, watching her and thinking. "What's your biggest worry right now, Sun?" he asked.

"Enif," she answered with a sigh. "He looks dimmer."

Alex laughed. "You're just imagining it," he countered as he took the telescope and glanced at the star. "You know he's going to die in a million years or so, but since you're not going to be around to see it then, you're stressing about it now."

"And I didn't mean now this second," he said, "I meant now in general. This month. This week even."

Sunday looked away. "I'm afraid you're not going to come back," she whispered.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not going to be like your dad and just not come back," he insisted. "I thought you'd know me a little better than that," he added in a tone that was meant to be light and airy but sounded accusatory.

"I didn't mean by choice," Sunday countered, "It just feels like people have a hard time coming back. My dad hasn't. Henry said that we'd watch a movie that night when he got home, but he never came back either."

"I feel like such a sap when I'm around you," Alex frowned, "but I don't think I could not come back to you, Sun." It was the truth and a slightly disconcerting truth at that. Never before had Alex felt so dependent on one person.

She laughed as she nervously picked up the steaming thermos of hot chocolate. "I feel different when I'm around you too," she conceded.

"How?" Alex asked.

In an attempt to quell her nerves and help herself speak coherently, Sunday focused her attention on spinning the lid of the thermos on and off. "I just get this weird feeling in my chest, and then before I know it it's in my stomach. And sometimes my hand prickles whenever I hold yours. I get lightheaded and feel dizzy. I miss you as soon as you leave. And I'm really, really happy when I'm with you," she concluded. "But I think I did a really bad job of explaining all of that."

No. It was perfect. Alex knew the feelings. "What about when I kiss you?" he asked, leaning close to her.

She gave a small laugh, unsure of how to answer, and put her hands on each side of his face to pull him to her. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten about the thermos that she had left uncapped. "Ow! Hot!" She jumped up and pulled her hot chocolate stained shirt away from her stomach.

"Take it off," Alex ordered as he stopped the thermos from rolling off the roof.

"Excuse me?!"

"So it doesn't burn you anymore," he explained.

Sunday looked uneasy, but she did as she was told. "Don't look," she ordered as she grabbed her large book and held it in front of her torso. "And I'm going down first."

Though he was sorely tempted Alex resisted even the smallest glance. When they got to his room, he handed Sunday a towel so that she could wash some of the sticky chocolate off of herself. "Uhm, can I borrow a shirt or something?" Sunday asked.

"You didn't bring pajamas?"

"I was so excited about the roof that I kind of forgot," she mumbled. While Alex laughed at her, he dutifully presented her with one of his button up dress shirts.

Ten minutes later she emerged from the steamy bathroom, and Alex had to take a deep breath. His shirt stopped high on her tanned thighs, and there were a few buttons undone at the top. She jumped onto his bed, and his shirt pulled back to reveal a small section of yellow underwear. Which totally made sense because he would have been shocked if they were something plain, like black. Yellow underwear were just so... Sunday.

She yawned as she fell back onto one of his pillows. "It's late," she noted as she twirled a tendril of her damp, wavy hair.

"Yeah," Alex nodded as he pulled off his t-shirt and jeans. Sunday gave an embarrassed squeal and covered her face with hands. As soon as he was wearing a pair of pajama pants, Alex told her that the coast was clear, and she unveiled her eyes.

Alex's bed was large, much larger than the couch in Sunday's living room so the two didn't quite have an excuse to be close. But Sunday was somewhat of a cuddler, and as soon as Alex laid down, she sidled up to him. "Goodnight," she smiled, looking thoroughly content with their current situation.

Under the blankets, her bare leg touched his. "Goodnight," Alex exhaled. It was going to be a long night.
♠ ♠ ♠
So tomorrow's my last day of school, and I'm kind of sad. I don't want to be a junior. I'm having, like, a bout of Peter Pan syndrome.

Sunday and Alex help. Probably why this is so long haha. Comments/subscriptions?