Status: In Progress [:

The Only Exception

Not a Single Thing for Me to Frown About

Saturdays were always one of Sunday's favorite days of the week. Friday nights Amber would drive home from UCLA and spend the night with Sunday, and then Saturdays they would just lounge on the beach all day. Sunday would look for something to draw or paint or sketch while Amber regaled her with tales of college life. Often, Amber would say, "You should've been there Sun!", which made Sunday a little sad. She didn't understand why Amber was suddenly at a place that she, Sunday, wasn't allowed to go.

Sometimes, Sunday and Amber wouldn't talk. They would just lay there as two friends who had known each other for over ten years and being around each other would be enough. Sunday often felt alone, but not with Amber by her side. There were even times that Sunday would convince Amber to abandon her stoic tanning position on the sand and go running into the water with her. But mostly, Sunday and Amber just talked while engaged in their different activities.

"Your mom said that you made a new friend, Sunday."

But Sunday almost didn't hear Amber speaking. She was engrossed in the drawing that she was currently working on, and Amber had to say her friends name several times before Sunday even looked up. "What?" she asked.

"You met someone the other day," Amber remarked, "right?"

Sunday smiled and looked down at her paper. She didn't reply until Amber laughed and sat up, flipping her sunglasses onto her head. "Okay," she said, grabbing Sunday's notebook, "what's his name?"

"Give me my book back!" Sunday insisted, trying to grab the notebook from Amber's hands.

Amber laughed and rolled away before looking at the page. "Is this him?" she asked Sunday quietly after a minute.

Sunday shrugged. "I think," she admitted. "I haven't seen him since Monday, so he might have looked different."

The blonde tossed the notebook down onto the blanket and began examining her nails. "He looks nice, Sun," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. Inside, a jealous feeling was seeping into her bloodstream and quickly being spread throughout her veins. It was an odd thing, as Amber had never been jealous of Sunday before. "Did you catch his name?"

"Alex," Sunday instantly said. She smiled sheepishly before adding, "I think."

"Aww, Sun! You like him!"

In an instant, Sunday was on the defense. "No, I don't!" she countered. "He just looked nice and... you know, it'd be nice to have another friend. I only have you."

The statement brought a feeling of remorse into Amber, which quickly killed any jealous animosity. Why hadn't she ever thought that Sunday would be alone while she was away at college? "Well, he looks nice, Sunny," Amber repeated before laying down on her stomach so that her back could catch some sun.

Sunday smiled and let her pencil dance across the page again, trying to remember the exact shape of Alex's eyes. After a few minutes of silence between Amber and Sunday, the latter dropped her notebook and took off at a trot towards the water, Pepe at her heels. "Sunday, no, you're wearing silk!" Amber anxiously called after her friend.

Giggling, Sunday pulled her pale green dress over her head and dropped it on the sand. She saw Amber stand up to collect the dress before she ran deep into the water. "Don't go to far!" Amber yelled. Pepe barked and rushed into the water after Sunday.

With a happy sigh, Sunday let herself fall backwards into the water. It rushed over her face, instantly wetting her hair and probably ruining her pale green silk headband. This didn't concern Sunday though. She was much too busy laughing at Pepe as he doggy paddled out towards her.

After ten minutes of splashing around in the water, loving the feeling of weightlessness that the water brought her, Sunday trudged back to the shore. She then plopped down on the sand at the very edge of the ocean so that her legs were brushed by the water whenever the tide came in. Pepe shook himself off and sat down behind Sunday.

Amber brought her a towel that Sunday wrapped around her shoulders. She was about to ask what was for dinner, because for the first time in a long time, Sunday was genuinely hungry, when she noticed someone walking towards her. "Alex!" she exclaimed, instantly perking up. She jumped up and hugged him, wetting his shirt.

He laughed. "Hi, Sunday," he said as his eyes roved over her bikini for a minute. Sunday was so thrilled by his presence that she didn't even notice his wandering eyes. "Who's your f-friend?" Alex asked. She noticed how his voice cracked towards the end of his sentence but didn't know what to make of it so she just pulled him over to Amber.

"Amber, this is my friend Alex!" she said with a smile. They exchanged a look that Sunday didn't know how to decipher. "Alex, will you stay for dinner?" Sunday asked. "My mom usually orders out on Saturdays."

Alex looked hesitant but upon looking into Sunday's pleading green eyes, he relented. "Sure, I'd love to. My friends went into San Francisco tonight anyway, so it's not like they'll miss me."

"Great!" Sunday was so excited that she left everything, including her dress and Pepe, outside and ran into the house. "Mom, my friend Alex is staying for dinner tonight!" Sunday told her mother, bobbing up and down on the heels of her feet.

"Friend?" Mrs. Phillip's eyebrows furrowed together in worry and she demanded, "When did you make a new friend, Sunday?"

She shrugged. "I was just outside one day, and I met him."

"Him?"

"Can he stay?" Sunday asked pleadingly.

Unable to tell Sunday no, Mrs. Phillips smiled. "Of course. Why don't you go put something on before I order?" Always obedient, Sunday hurried up the stairs to get dressed before Alex and Amber came inside.

Meanwhile, Amber was staring at Alex with cold and unfriendly eyes. "What are you doing, Alex Gaskarth?" she demanded.

Alex shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"I know you noticed that something's wrong with Sunday," Amber spat, "so why are you still hanging around?"

"What exactly is wrong with her?" Alex asked as he picked up the blanket and folded it. He handed it to Amber, who snatched it from his hands. He went to pick up Sunday's dress too, but Amber grabbed it before he could. "I'm just trying to help," he snapped.

Amber dropped the things into the basket and called Pepe back from the water. "She... I don't know actually," she admitted. "She's not very good around people, and it just seems like she doesn't want to grow up. And then her brother died, and she gave up."

"So basically..." Alex trailed off, waiting for Amber to explain it more simply.

"She functions on the level of a little kid. Her parents have to take care of her still and remind her to do simple stuff, like eat," Amber snapped. "She's totally innocent and therefore couldn't be any fun to you. So why are you hanging aruond?"

Alex shrugged. "I can have friends, can't I?"

They walked up the stairs of the back porch and Amber paused with her hand on the handle of the glass door. "Alex, if you hurt Sunday, you're dead," she promised him.

With a roll of his eyes, Alex said, "Have a little faith, Am."

"I would if I didn't know what kind of person you are," she muttered under her breath.

"People change." Alex snatched the basket from Amber and walked into Sunday's kitchen. Sunday was sitting at the kitchen table looking through a few takeout menus. Instead of her usual dress, she was wearing a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt. Her bathing suit top was visible through the t-shirt and the bottoms of her feet were a little dirty from the sand.

"Do you like Chinese or pizza more?" she asked Alex.

After taking a seat next to the pretty girl, Alex gave a shrug. "Whichever you want."

"Chinese," Sunday quickly decided. "We can eat it outside and make a fire."

Amber rolled her eyes yet the act seemed only somewhat patronizing when directed towards Sunday. "She has a thing for bonfires," Amber told Alex.

Alex watched as Sunday grabbed the phone and dialed the number that was on the top of the Chinese menu. "Hello," she chirped into the phone in a peppy voice. "I'd like to place an order." She went through the usual rounds of ordering food, pausing to ask Alex and Amber what it was they wanted. When she was finished, she skipped into the living room to give the phone to her parents so that they could order.

There was silence in the kitchen as Amber watched Sunday leave the room. "She never orders her own food," Amber commented, sounding a little shocked, "She can't stand talking to the people on the phone."

"Maybe she's more self-sufficient than you give her credit for," Alex suggested.

Amber shook her head. "Alex, you don't understand how bad she was after her brother died or how she is around people. The only places she ever sees are the beach or the inside of this house," Amber explained.

"That can't be easy on her," Alex frowned.

"It's easier than actually living out there," Amber countered in defense of the system that the Phillips had adopted in order to keep Sunday alive. "It keeps her happy. So don't walk in here and pretend to understand what's good for Sunday and what's not."

Alex glared at Amber. "Is this about Cabo?" he demanded.

The blonde stood up and walked towards the door. "I'm going to go get Sunday's fire started."

The truth was that when Alex and Amber had been introduced by Sunday, they had already known each other. While they were both vacationing in Cabo they had become acquaintances of a sort, but upon leaving Mexico, they had hoped that they'd never see each other again. At least, Alex hoped he'd never see Amber again.

He sighed and rubbed his jaw. Being around her was going to be difficult. There was, of course, something that could make any trying situation a little easier. "Hey, Sun, I'm gonna run home for a minute," Alex said, walking to the edge of Sunday's living room.

She looked up when he walked towards the room and smiled. "Alex, these are my parents," she said, gesturing to an older woman that resembled her slightly and a tall man.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Phillips," Alex said.

The look with which the Phillipses regarded Alex was a calculating and skeptical one. In the end, Mrs. Phillips forced a pleasant smile onto her face and said, "You too, Alex."

He shifted awkwardly before announcing, "I'll be right back. I have to go grab something from my friend Zack's house."

Sunday jumped up. "Can I come with you?"

If she ever decided to utilize her puppy dog eyes and sweet face, Sunday would have been very adept at getting anything and everything that she wanted. In actuality, Sunday would never think of using these God given tools as a form of manipulation. Yet even without forcing a pleading look, Alex couldn't deny her. "Sure," he shrugged. "If its okay. It's just next door."

Mrs. Phillips looked like she was about to say no when she was cut off by her husband. "Sure," shrugged Mr. Phillips. "Just don't take all night." He bequeathed Alex with a look that would have instantly rushed any improper thoughts from Alex's head, but he had barely registered the fact that he was going to be alone in Zack's house with the pretty Sunday until he realized that he was getting the 'Don't-you-dare-mess-with-my-girl' look that fathers often gave Alex.

Sunday jumped up and pulled Alex out the front door of the house. It was the first time that he had ever seen the front of Sunday's house; it looked very much like Zack's, just in a light grey shade instead of white. "Which way?" she asked, looking around.

"To the left," Alex said, putting his hands on Sunday's shoulders and turning her towards Zack's house.

"How long are you going to be in California?" Sunday asked as she walked along the sidewalk.

"Probably a long time," he admitted with a rueful smile. "I'm supposed to be working on a CD with my friends, but it's not really going anywhere at the moment."

"A CD?" Sunday's interest had been sparked. "What kind?"

"I'm in a band called All Time Low," he told her. "It's kind of like... well, a rip off of Fall Out Boy and Blink-182. I just have a weirder voice than Patrick or Tom or Mark."

"So you sing! Will you sing me something?" Sunday asked.

He avoided her eyes so that saying no would be easier. "Not right now," he chuckled. "I don't have anything good to sing. But when we come up with something, you'll be the first to know. Other than the producer or Jack, Rian, and Zack."

"I'm not going to forget that," Sunday warned him.

He laughed again as they walked up the steps to Zack's house. "That's okay," he assured her. He opened the door and walked in, holding the door open for Sunday.

"This looks a little like my house," she commented as she followed Alex into the kitchen. "Just less decorated."

"Zack's not really into decorating," Alex agreed. "It's not like we're really home a lot to see the furnishings anyway."

The sky was beginning to darken, Sunday noted with a hint of unease. She was not often away from home after dark. "Why not?" she asked.

"Well, touring," Alex said. "It takes up a lot of time."

"You tour too?" she excitedly demanded as Alex opened the fridge. He grabbed the six pack of Heineken that he had been craving before opening the door in the kitchen so that he and Sunday could just walk down the beach back towards her house.

Alex pulled a green bottle from the back and opened it. "Yep," he nodded, "We have a bus and everything."

Sunday's attention wasn't on music anymore though. "What is this?" she inquired as she grabbed a bottle of Heineken and traced the star on it.

Before Alex could answer, Sunday continued speaking though. "Did you know red stars aren't the hottest? Blue and white are the hottest. Red stars are usually around one thousand Kelvin. The coldest star would be a black dwarf, but none of those are thought to exist yet." She then stared off into the distance, most likely elaborating on the topic in her mind.

Alex's eyebrows furrowed together. He was somewhat amazed that the little red star on the beer bottle could send her off on that rant, and he didn't know how to respond. So he just chuckled before admitting, "I didn't know any of that. But try the beer. It's good." He paused before adding, "Just don't let your mom or dad see you drinking it." He grabbed the bottle and opened it before handing it back.

The first sip was enough to tell Sunday that this was something she'd never had before. "It's... really funny tasting," she complained as she coughed a little.

"It gets better," Alex promised. The face that Sunday put on before taking another drink out of the green bottle made him laugh.

"Do you think Amber's going to like this?" she asked with a wrinkled nose.

Alex snorted. "I know Amber likes this stuff. But you might want to drink it all before she sees you with it."

"Why?" Sunday said after another gulp of beer.

"Er... you're not really supposed to have this stuff," Alex told her. "It's not really bad for you, it just makes you act like an asshole, really."

Sunday laughed. "Do you drink it a lot?"

"More than I'd ever admit," Alex chuckled.

She stopped walking. "Well, if we're not supposed to drink this around my parents of Amber, let's see who can finish theirs first," Sunday challenged him with a grin.

Now it was Alex's turn to laugh. "I never would have pegged you for a beer chugger," he chortled. "But yeah, let's go."

On Alex's count of three, Sunday turned her bottle vertical and swallowed the drink as fast as she could. A small bit of it escaped her mouth and rolled down her chin, but she just focused on the task at hand: finishing her beer before Alex drank all of his. When she was finished, she wiped her mouth and looked at Alex. "Took you long enough," he commented with a fake yawn.

"Shut up," she countered as she dropped her bottle into a nearby garbage can. "You've had practice."

"Don't worry," Alex said as he too dropped his empty bottle into the can, "We can have a rematch later."

Eyes twinkling, Sunday replied, "You're on." And then, she laced her fingers through Alex's as though it was the most natural action ever and began dragging him through the sand in a happy, skipping lope towards the small fire that Amber had concocted.
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It's kind of long. Sorry D: Was it too much dialogue?

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