Wanna Live It Up Just Because

Arpeggio and Jack didn't need to travel far to find a picnic table sitting idle in the venue. Jack placed the basket on the table and sat on one side; Arpeggio sat across from him. Her newly acquired stuffed bear sat on the table to the side of her. Arpeggio pulled the basket toward her, digging through it and extracting a bag. From the bag, she pulled out her glucose meter. Jack watched her, intrigued by the tiny device. Arpeggio pricked her finger with the needle and let a drop of blood rest on the testing strip. The numbers appeared on the screen moments later; she let out an aggravated sigh as she read them.

It was low but what could she expect? She was hoping it would rise. That wasn't likely to happen till the next day or even sometime late that night if she was lucky. She should be used to the disappointment of reading a low rating on her glucose meter.

Too bad she wasn't.

It was never something she could get used to and she probably never would. No one wants to hear their health is fragile and they can't do anything. That's basically what a low rating told her.

"Is it bad?" asked Jack.

Arpeggio looked from her glucose meter to Jack; the worry in his eyes was clear. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

"Its just a little low," Arpeggio answered, smiling.

"Do I need to be worried?"

Arpeggio laughed, "No, don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, just making sure. I don't need Neon kicking my ass because you get hurt."

"She would probably kick your ass regardless," Arpeggio joked.

This time Jack laughed. He had to admit, he liked the way Arpeggio acted when she opened up. She was sarcastic and had a sense of humor. The guarded look that once filled her eyes was no longer there. He was happy she could finally share that side of her with him.

What had caused the sudden change, he didn't know. He read that low blood sugar can cause lethargic behavior but Arpeggio was acting anything but that.

"You know what, you're probably right," he replied.

He glanced at his watch. He wanted to make sure Arpeggio got the chance to eat. She looked like she needed some food in her system. According to his clock, they had time to eat at leisure. He looked back at Arpeggio to see her laying food on the table.

"So you definitely did a number on the doctor's arm," Jack stated.

"I didn't mean to," Arpeggio replied, "He just got in the way, I guess. I didn't even know I hit him."

"Remind me not to get near you when you're playing your drums."

"Like you've never hit anyone before on accident."

"Cutie, I'm Jack Barakat; I don't hit people, they run into me."

"Someone feels overly confident about themselves today."

"I couldn't imagine who you're talking about," Jack pretended to scope the area for another person.

"Must be my imagination then."

"Yes, it must."

Arpeggio giggled and took a bite of her sandwich. At some point that morning, the band made her lunch. They packed more food then she could possibly eat though. She knew her blood sugar needed to be raised but the amount of food packed was on the ridiculous side.

"So what's your favorite food?" Jack asked.

He was trying to start conversation, though they were easily communicating. The sound of her voice was intoxicating, even if it was hard to hear. And he wanted to know what she liked to eat to surprise her by making it one day.

"Chocolate covered strawberry," Arpeggio answered.

Jack nearly choked on the bite he took of his sandwich. Could she have picked a more sexual food? Was she even aware of the connotations behind chocolate covered strawberries? She shouldn't be eating those in the first place. He doubted Neon let Arpeggio have chocolate.

"Wait, aren't you not supposed to have sugar?"

"The chocolate is made using a sugar substitute. I can't eat normal chocolate covered strawberries. Good job on catching that though."

"I did a little research," Jack admitted.

"On diabetes?"

Jack nodded, casting his eyes to the table in embarrassment.

"Why?"

He hesitated. Thoughts swam through his mind. He could tell her the truth and risk her telling him she didn't share his emotions. Or he could lie and say he was interested. Well, it wouldn't be a total lie. He was interested. The reason for his interest in diabetes was her of course. But he didn't know if he should tell her. It would be too soon to admit to those feelings.

"I was just interested."

"Diabetes isn't all that interesting."

Jack shrugged, "I think it is."

"Oh."

Arpeggio took another bite of her food. Diabetes must have been Jack's motive for talking to her. She thought he liked her for her but apparently she was wrong. He must have just wanted to learn some more about the illness. That shouldn't have upset her but it did.

It was silent. Jack noticed Arpeggio's drop in mood. He wondered to himself about what could be wrong with her.

"You want to sit on stage with us while we practice?" Jack asked, breaking the silence that consumed the table.

Arpeggio shrugged, fiddling with the wrapper her sandwich was once contained in. She didn't feel much like talking now. It felt like her heart had dropped to the pit of her stomach. All she really wanted to do was go lay down in the hotel room. Was there any way for her to get out of watching them practice? She was sure she could think of one.

What was she feeling? This ache in her heart, her upset stomach. Her eyes were even watering, creating tiny pools behind her eyelids. Whatever the feeling was, she didn't like it and she wanted it to stop.

This couldn't have been about Jack, could it? The thought that he didn't like her beyond her diabetes couldn't have been the reason for her drop in attitude.

As that thought crossed her mind, her heart ached worse. It was Jack. Never had Arpeggio been so emotionally connected with a human being that rejection fazed her.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked.

Arpeggio nodded, her head down so Jack couldn't see her watering eyes. She sniffed subconsciously. Jack reached over the table, grabbed Arpeggio's chin and tugged it upward. The tears prepared to stream down her cheeks sent alarm through his system.

"What's wrong, cutie?"

She shook her head, smiling at him in an attempt to reassure him she was okay.

"No, something's wrong. Tell me what it is so I can help."

"You don't like me," she whispered.

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked, confusion now clear on his face.

"You just talk to me because I have diabetes. You don't really like me."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is," Arpeggio pushed, still whispering.

"If I didn't like you would I do this?" Jack stood, leaned over the table, and planted his lips against Arpeggio's.

That plan of taking things slow just went down the drain.