Status: Done!
Bring It On Home To Me
Weightless
“Shh, you gotta be quiet.”
“You’re the one walking like a two-ton gorilla.”
“What kind of gorilla weighs four-thousand pounds?”
“A fat-ass Jack Barakat gorilla. Shut the fuck up!”
“I’m not fat, asshole!”
I heard the low hissing of hushed voices and the heavy thunk of footfall outside of my bedroom, and I growled lowly, curling into an even tighter ball against Alex’s side. Since our near-slip into the horizontal tango almost four weeks earlier, we’d practiced careful bedtime behavior. We dressed separately, and never in anything remotely provocative, and then fell asleep in each other’s arms, talking. I couldn’t believe he and Jack had really stayed for a full month. Aside from two LA meetings and a week-end benefit in New York, they didn’t seem to have any desire to leave Wisconsin. And I was perfectly okay with that. Alex and I were finally growing comfortable with being boyfriend and girlfriend, going on regular dates and even getting into a few tame fights, all of which were easily resolved. Everything was--dare I say it--perfect.
“She’s not gonna, like, kill us, is she?”
Well, almost perfect.
“Alex,” I whispered, poking him in the ribs, “What time is it?”
He grunted and opened one sleepy eye, turning his head to look at the digital clock on my bedside table. “Four-thirty; baby, why are you awake already?” Even after a month, he still had the ability to turn me red every time he called me baby. “Bad dreams or something?”
I shook my head, pointing to the closed bedroom door, “Someone’s out in the hall.”
“Net, it’s early; who would be out in the--”
“Ouch! Get the fuck off of me; are we doing this or not?”
Alex pressed his lips together, wide awake now, and rolled his eyes. “It’s Jack, with Rian and Zack.” He yawned, “They must have flown in early to surprise you.”
I groaned, covering my eyes with my hand. “It’s four o’clock! I can’t deal with three crazed guys this early. They’re going to want me to get up and do stuff and get me all worn out and grumpy.” I pouted up at Alex, and he looked back at me with glittering eyes. I remembered, all too late, that he had a strange fondness for my pouty face, and it was one of the things that had led to a few other near-slips in the past weeks.
“Follow my lead,” he whispered, pulling my comforter over our heads and covering my body with his so that he was pressed tight against me. I was about to demand what the hell he was doing when I heard my bedroom door open and Alex’s lips came down on mine, hard enough to make me let out a loud squeak of surprise that could have easily been mistaken for a moan.
“What the fuck, dude?” I heard someone--definitely Rian--whisper, “You said they weren’t sexually active yet!” Sexually active? Who says that?
But it was obviously working, so I wasn’t going to vocalize this question. Instead, I grabbed a handful of Alex’s shirt and hooked my leg up around his thigh, kissing him so forcefully that he groaned against me, his breath quickening. For the sake of our decision to wait, I hoped the guys left soon, because physical situations between Alex and I had a tendency to elevate quickly.
“Mm, Annette,” Alex said gruffly, and I had to kiss him again to keep the laughter from escaping my throat. The boy should have been an actor. Or maybe he wasn’t even faking; that was a flattering thought.
“Ew, it’s like watching my kid sister boff,” I heard Zack say with horror in his voice, “Let’s get out of here.” There was some moving around and the door clicked shut again, but Alex and I didn’t stop immediately. Instead, we kept kissing and touching lightly until his shirt was discarded and my lips felt swollen and raw. Then, with every shred of willpower we had between us, we stopped and settled back into bed for a few more hours of sleep before the sun began to peek through my bamboo shoot blinds.
“Baby,” Alex said gently then, waking me with a soft kiss to the forehead. I opened my eyes, blinking a few times, and smiled at him. “Hey,” he greeted, and I saw that he was already up and dressed, and looked oddly excited, “Happy birthday, baby.” He helped me out of bed and then shifted his gaze as I switched out my shorts for a pair of boot cut jeans and tugged a Bedlight For BlueEyes shirt over my the camisole I’d worn to bed. Once I’d brushed my hair and teeth in my bathroom, I slipped my hand through Alex’s and let him lead me out the door and toward the stairs.
“Oh, wait,” I insisted, stopping abruptly outside of the guest room. Inside, I could hear the distinct sound of two men snoring, and I knew that Rian and Zack had probably exhausted themselves and passed out in there. I grinned evilly and took a step back before kicking the door, hard enough to hurt my foot and make a loud bang, but not so hard that it did any damage to the wood. The snoring was quickly replaced with loud, girlish screams and the thud of someone falling out of bed. “That’s for waking me up at four o’clock this morning, assholes!” I shouted before giggling madly and running down the stairs, Alex on my heels and laughing as well.
“So I take it you’re savvy to Zack and Rian’s presence?” Jocelyn questioned as soon as my boyfriend and I reached the kitchen. I nodded, and she sighed, “Yeah, they aren’t exactly sneaky. But, um,” she raised an eyebrow at me, “They said they heard you guys getting it on at the early hours.”
Alex snorted loudly, covering his nose with his hand. I shook my head and answered for us, “We heard them coming; call it a harmless prank.”
“So you’re still virginial?” Leave it to Joce to talk about this so casually in front of Alex. It didn’t even embarrass me anymore.
“As virginial as a non-virgin can be,” I stated with pride, then looked over her shoulder at the stove. “What’s going on over there, honeybear?”
She blinked, as if suddenly remembering, and smiled her widest smile as she turned back to the countertop. After some scraping and flipping took place, she turned back with a large plate, filled with foods. “Call it our tradition,” she said, offering me a fork, “Happy birthday, Net.” This was the second birthday I’d shared with Jocelyn, and both times she’d made me the most amazing breakfast; I liked this tradition.
“Aw, thankyou, Jocelyn,” I smiled, looking over the plate. “You made my favorites again; you’re the best!”
“I thought I was the best,” Alex protested.
Jocelyn glanced at him, “I will hit you with a frying pan.” He put up his hands in a no-harm-intended gesture, and our drummer cracked a smirk, handing him a second plate of food and sitting down with a third for herself.
I took the first bite; it was delicious, of course. Had she not decided to pursue a career in music, Jocelyn could have been a chef at a five-star restaurant. “Mm,” I hummed happily, then swallowed and asked, “Where’s everyone else?”
Jocelyn took a sip of coffee and cleared her throat. “Rian, Zack, and Matt are still asleep.” Matt was here? Wow, that guy was quiet. “Kal and Jack are on airport duty with Tomas and Khaye, and Deveraux is finalizing some stuff for the party tonight.”
There were about fifteen band people either flying in or driving from nearby tour locations to celebrate my twenty-first birthday, which pretty much guaranteed it to be fantastic, even if the whole night ended up sucking, if that makes sense. Just knowing that I’d already gained such great friends on this career path was amazing.
There was some ruckus on the stairs and we all turned to look as Zack, Rian and Matt stumbled into view, very sleepy-looking and obviously pissed off. Rian grunted at me, “The fuck is your problem, Vader?”
I rolled my eyes, “You woke Alex and I up at four in the morning with your ‘two-ton gorilla’ talk.” I shoved a forkful of eggs in my mouth, “Payback’s a bitch.”
“When did you change your name to payback?” He asked snidely, which resulted in Jocelyn smacking him across the face with a spatula, leaving a wide red mark there. “Ouch, dammit, what was that for?” He demanded, holding the swelling blotch with one hand.
“Don’t call the birthday girl a bitch; were you raised by wolves?” Jocelyn pointed to the remaining island chairs, “Now sit and eat before I decide to make all of you starve today.” Not wanting to incur the Wrath of Jocelyn, Matt and Zack scurried to fix their plates and sit on one side of the island, while Rian lagged behind, grumbling to himself.
I leaned into Zack, frowning, “Ri’s sure being a dick today.”
The bassist sighed and nodded, “Wedding plans have him all stressed out. Right before we left last night, he and Kara got into some big fight about…place settings or, uh--”
“Guest lists,” Rian said without intonation, dropping down on the other side of the island. “She doesn’t want me to invite Cassadee.”
“Cass? Really?” I felt my forehead wrinkle.
He sighed and shrugged, “She somehow got it into her head that Cass is jiving for me. So you can imagine how thrilled she was to hear that Cassadee was going to be here, at this party. I am in such deep shit.” He took a long gulp of coffee and ran a hand over his head, where his hair was starting to grow out just slightly.
Alex put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing gently, “You guys gonna be okay, man?” Rian nodded, nibbling on a piece of turkey bacon and staring off into space.
Alex opened his mouth to say more, but I shoved at him and got as close to Rian’s face as I could. “Listen here, mopey: You love Kara, Kara loves you. You’re getting married next Spring, and nothing is going to change that. It’s my birthday; I’m official twenty-one today. Smile, or I will knock your teeth out.” He blinked at me with wide eyes before forcing a smile, which quickly became genuine as Matt started laughing and Jocelyn chuckled behind a paper napkin.
We all talked amongst the group for the next hour or so, taking calls as they came in about band friends getting safely checked into hotels, and from hometown friends asking for times and details. We were doing a huge, catered lunch by the lake at two, and then a big blowout at the Cardinal Club in Madison from nine on. Once we’d finished eating breakfast, that still left almost four hours before we had to be anywhere. Or, so I thought.
“Are you done?” Alex’s voice came quietly in my ear as Matt and Jocelyn discussed on-the-road organization animatedly. It was strange that they were both such quiet people, but seemed to always end up in some kind of heated debate.
I looked up at my boyfriend, “Yep!”
“Good,” he smiled warmly, “I have a few special plans for us today. We’ll be done by two, but you might get ready for the lake now just in case we don’t get back to the house before then.”
“What are we going to do?”
He gave me a crooked grin, “I’ve just got a couple surprises in mind.” He looked me over, “Go change for the lake; I want to leave within the next half hour.” Without another question, I excused myself and slipped out of my seat, heading for my room to change into the beautiful blue cotton sundress Kal and I had picked out the week before, for this very day.
-- -- --
“This is where you wanted to bring me?” I asked later, as Alex and I sat in the Range Rover outside of Yoli’s Liquor, where Abernathy Yoli was just now unlocking the door and waving us in.
Alex nodded and put the car in park. “You’re twenty-one now, Annette; it’s time you bought your very first bottle of booze.”
“I bought my first bottle of vodka from Abernathy when I was sixteen,” I told him blandly.
“Then it’s time you bought your very first legal of booze,” he corrected, popping open his door and stepping out, and I followed dutifully.
We weren’t in Yoli’s long before I fell in love with a pretty pink bottle of X Rated and a thirty pack of Bud Lite, both of which Alex paid for after I flashed Yoli my ID (which he ignored, as usual) and then we loaded back into the car for the next stop on Alex’s surprise list. It ended up being the mall, where he followed me around without complaint as I tried on various dresses and pairs of jeans, shoes and shirts, a wide array of accessories. He told me to pick anything I wanted, but two hours in I still hadn’t chosen anything. I was just happy to be with him, and that he seemed to actually be having a half-decent time watching me window shop.
“Hey, Net,” he told me as one o’clock rolled around. We were in the mall Fender shop, and I was watching as a band from Chicago--Friar Five--played an acoustic set. They were really good, the lead singer vocalizing about living on the streets when his mother lost their house because of a gambling addiction. I could barely look away to face my boyfriend. “I need to run down to the sports store real quick,” he told me, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “I told Jack I’d replace that football I accidentally ran over the other day.” I nodded and turned my attention back to Friar Five while Alex made his exit.
Half an hour later, we were both strapped into the car and headed to the lake, with me behind the wheel and a couple of McDonalds parfaits between us. I didn’t touch mine, however, opting instead to hold Alex’s hand tightly and lean over the center console to kiss him everything we hit a stop sign. “Today was fun,” I told him sweetly, really meaning it. “Thankyou for taking me around, honey.”
“I just wish you would have picked out something,” he said as we turned into the picnic site where a large van was parked between my mother’s van and my brother’s Taurus. Along the street, I could see the cars of various family members, and a few that I didn’t recognize. There were stairs leading over a slope, so I couldn’t see who all had already arrived. “Nervous?” Alex smirked as we parked in the shade of an overgrown oak tree.
I shrugged, “More excited than anything. But a little nervous too, I guess. I keep having this mental image of my friend Amanda jumping on Pete’s back and dry-humping him to death.”
He laughed easily, taking my hand and leading me to the stairs. “People handle being around musicians better than that and you know it; remember when you and Kal met us? You were the coolest girls at the concert.”
“We were freaked out, fan girl messes on the inside,” I confessed.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” he stopped us, leaning in to kiss my lips lightly, “I’m a freaked out, fan boy mess on the inside around you all the time.”
I stared at him, smiling and holding his face between my hands. “You’re such a cheese ball,” I chuckled, kissing him again quickly. “Okay,” I pulled back and took his hand, “Let’s do this.” We started down the steps, and I was almost immediately met by a huge group and a piercing chant of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” that echoed off of the trees and the water. In an instant, I felt tears pressing at the backs of my eyes and I had to blink a few dozen times to hold them back.
There were seven long picnic tables, one covered with food in buffet-style, one covered with paper-wrapped gifts, one empty, and four more with chairs surrounding them. Among these tables stood fifty-or-so people, all there to see little ol’ me. Parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, a few choice friends from Grey Valley (most of them were waiting until the club later), and close to twenty band and crew friends. Pete and Patrick were there, as well as Pete’s son, Bronx. Gabe, Vicky, Nate and Suarez, Cass, Mike, Jersey and Beth, Andrew and Chris, Elliott and Nixon, Erica and Alessandria, and Alessandria’s son, Dacian. I could hardly breathe; it was so good to see them all again.
I took almost fifteen minutes walking around hugging people and telling them how much I’d missed them before Mom ushered me over to the buffet table so everyone would start eating. The food was amazing: Gourmet burgers, airy steak fries, mashed potatoes, salads, grilled corn, a few veggie trays, and a pan of eggplant lasagna, per my request for Alex and I. We piled our plates high and arranged ourselves around the four tables, with me squeezed securely between Alex and Tomas, and sitting across from Pete, Bronx, and my parents. My mother was positively gushing, with Bronx standing on her lap and smacking his hands down on the table.
“He’s gorgeous, Peter!” She said as Bronx turned and started making faces at her, giggling at himself. I giggled as well, but mine was because she’d called him Peter and he didn’t even flinch. “Oh my lord, he looks exactly like you, except for that bright blonde hair; he must get that from his mother!” Seriously, she was turning pink.
“Murphy,” my dad said with a warning look while Tomas and I almost burst laughing. She’d had that same look on her face when I started high school, and then again when Tomas started. That oh-honey-let’s-have-another-baby face. And honestly, I didn’t know why they couldn’t. Tomas was in college, I was on a promising career path, and she was far from out of time.
Pete smiled and sipped his iced tea, “Yeah, the hair is all his mom; eyes too. But those cheeks and that smile? All me.”
“All you, Daddy!” Bronx squealed, giving his dad a high-five they’d obviously made a practice of. We all laughed then, and I felt Alex slip a hand over my knee under the table. I gave him a little grin and he returned it, pressing a kiss to my temple. He did this often--simple little unprompted shows of affection. It was one of my favorite things about him.
At the table behind us, I heard another small voice. “Mommy, who is that baby?”
I turned to see Alessandria leaning down to her son, who was turned in his seat between her and Erica. “That? Do you remember Mr. Wentz?” Dacian nodded, chewing on a carrot stick and staring, unblinking, at Bronx. “That’s his little boy; do you want to go say hi?”
Dacian was practically a young, male clone of Alessandria, with dark black-brown hair and twinkling silver-blue eyes, and pale skin. He was also alike in his strange thoughtfulness as he tilted his head to the side in thought. “Maybe later,” he finally decided, turning back to the table. I’d hardly known the little boy for half an hour, but I already knew he was bright beyond his years.
“Okay, baby,” Alessandria laughed, then said something to Erica that I couldn’t hear, so I put my attention back on my brother, who was roping Alex and I into a debate he had going on with Jersey and Patrick about vocal care tricks.
“Little brother,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder as he insisted that lemon juice wasn’t a sound treatment, “I love you, and you know I would defend you to the death. But I’d sort of rather not get into an argument with my new producer,” I jerked my head to Patrick, who smirked and rolled his eyes, taking another bite of eggplant lasagna. In all of the planning, we’d somehow neglected to check if he was going through another one of his vegetarian cycles, and indeed he was.
Once we’d all finished eating, Alex held me attention while something mysterious went on at one of the tables behind me. When he finally let me turn around, I saw my thirty pack sitting in the middle of the table, and ten cups arranged in a pyramid on either side. I blinked up at my dad, who was straightening the cups and cracking open a can of beer. “Are you serious?”
He gave me a cocky little grin, “I am your first challenger; show me what you’ve got, kid.”
I didn’t know what to think about that, so I just repeated, “Are you serious?”
“Yes!” He laughed, rolling up his sleeves and pouring his beer into the cups. “Sweetie, you think your mother and I didn’t realize that the random messages we would get at two in the morning were from you accidentally drunk texting the wrong person?” I blushed deeply as everyone laughed, burying my head against Alex’s shoulder. “So, in celebration of you now being of legal drinking age, I am going to whoop you in beer pong.”
I was still mortified, but intrigued at the same time, not to mention more than a little defiant of the confidence in his voice. “You wish, old man,” I finally said, standing from my seat and walking over to the table to crack open a beer. I started filling my own ten cups, and picked up the tiny plastic ball from the cup of water to the side. “Just promise me you won’t cry; there’s nothing sadder than a middle-aged ADA reduced to tears because his daughter creamed him in pong.”
“Tough talk,” he shot back, taking up his own ball, “Eye-to-eye.” We locked gazes across the table and, without looking, threw. His went in and mine banked off of a corner cup and onto the concrete. He was first. “Not so big and bad now, eh Belly?”
“Don’t get cocky, old man,” I shot back as he washed the dirt off of the plastic with the water in his cup, “It was just eye-to-eye; doesn’t even count for a cup.” I’d barely finished the sentence when the ball sailed over the table and into my front cup. I looked up with narrowed eyes and swallowed the beer within, “Lucky shot.” No sooner had I passed the ball back that it was soaring into a corner cup. “Shit.”
Ten minutes later, Dad had annihilated me. Twenty minutes later, I returned the favor. During our tie-breaker, it had come down to one cup each and I, by some grace of god, managed to sink mine first and started running around, pumping my fists in the air and doing a victory cheer. Dad laughed kindly and came to loop me into a hug, “Good game, sweetheart. Now,” he faced me sternly, “Don’t think that this is my approval of you drinking regularly; I still have the same expectations of my little girl as I always did.”
I nodded, feeling my eyes well as I was filled with love for him. “I know, Daddy, and you don’t need to worry. I love you.”
“Love you too,” he hugged me again, then released me to the group of friends that were still celebrating my victory. There were a few more games, but I had to stop after my fifth because I was starting to feel a little tipsy, and I sat down to fill my stomach with a few hamburger buns and mashed potatoes while the games went on behind me.
I was started a few minutes later when my cousin Lenny stood up on one of the tables and started waving her arms around. “Listen, this is fun and all, but can we cut some fuckin’ cake so Annette can start opening presents?!” There was a small chorus of cheers as everyone agreed, and I ducked my head. Leave it to Lenny to be so loud and demanding. We had actually considered taking her on the road with us as a tech, since her band never reformed after it’s hiatus back in 2009, but her personality (and enthusiasm for drinking) left something to be desired sometimes.
“On that note,” my Aunt Lizzie cleared her throat and reached up to yank Lenny down from the table, “Yes, let’s have cake.” She shoved her daughter into a chair and then walked with my mom and Aunt Georgia to a large box, opening it and lighting a few candles. Then, they carefully lifted the cake--a monstrously large, single-layed cake with smoothed, light-brown frosting and tiny mountains of whipped cream, nuts, and cherries. I could tell, just from looking at it, that it was the combined effort of the three women; mom, Lizzie, and Georgia had always enjoyed being in the kitchen together, which is how Lenny, Sammy, and I had always made the most money during school bake sales. Mom and Georgia had been so upset when Lizzie and her husband had divorced, and she had moved with Lenny to Milwaukee.
They set the cake in front of me and Aunt Georgia lit the final candle, smiling. “We made it,” she said, though I already knew. “It’s a dark chocolate crunch cake with kaluha mousse frosting; the same one we made you when you turned sixteen.” I remembered that birthday clearly; Lenny and her boyfriend-at-the-time had snuck the leftover kaluha out of the liquor cabinet and ended up being smashed for the entire afternoon. Her boyfriend had even thrown up on my new car.
“Thankyou, Aunt Gigi,” I whispered, reaching out to hug her tightly. After that, everyone sang a loud “Happy Birthday,” complete with Patrick’s vocal range and Alex’s lyrical improvisation. I stared at my candles, not really wishing for anything, but putting on the show that I was. After all, what could you ask fate to deliver that you weren’t already accomplishing on your own?
I blew out the candles, spitting the tiniest bits of wax onto the surface of the cake, and leaned back with a triumphant smile as Aunt Lizzie began cutting into it and passing out slices. “Cheers!” Cass squealed, plopping herself down right on my lap and tapping her plate against mine before feeding me a forkful of cake.
I chewed and swallowed before laughing at her giddiness, “Thanks, Cassadee! How are you?”
“Awesome,” she told me, “Enjoying time off, since Pete over there,” she pointed at him, “Hasn’t told us what our next tour is yet.”
“Working on it!” He called, then started chasing Bronx around, trying desperately to prevent the little boy from smearing chocolate all over everyone.
“And, um,” Cass continued, biting her lip and looking down at her plate, “Alex says hi. He wanted to come, but…you know…he just couldn’t.”
I felt a stab in my stomach; Lipshaw and I had barely had any contact since the show in Florida. He’d texted me to confirm when Mike told him Alex and I were officially a couple, and then a few times after that, but not like he used to. I’d broken his heart, and he wasn’t forgiving me. It would be easier if we were actually around each other more often, but living on opposite sides of the country made it all too easy for him to avoid me.
“How is he?” I asked quietly, not trusting my voice to go any louder without cracking, “I mean, he’s good?”
“He’s good,” Cass affirmed with a nod, “He’s been spending a lot of time with his family, which he loves. Writing a lot of music. He’s good,” she repeated.
“Good.” I pushed some cake around on my plate, and then heard Alex come up behind me.
“I don’t know what you did to bum my girlfriend out,” he told Cass like a parent berating a disobedient child, “But I don’t like it, and I want you to stop.” She stuck her tongue out and hopped off of my lap, walking off to join Beth and Sammy. Alex took her place, folding his lanky frame onto my lap, and touched my chin, “What‘s wrong, sadface?”
I shrugged, uncomfortable discussing it with him; he and Lipshaw hadn’t exactly been best friends throughout this whole thing, and I wasn’t going to add more fuel to the fire by admitting how much I missed my friend. “I’m just a little overwhelmed, I guess,” I lied, and feeling guilty for doing so.
He grinned, pressing a kiss to my lips that lingered for what felt like forever; a perfect forever, at that. “I know, baby, but it’s a big day; just relax and enjoy it.”
“Presents, presents, presents!” Jack half-sang, half-screamed as he bounced over to us, grabbing my arm and tugging at me.
“You were saying?” I laughed to Alex as he got off my lap so I could stand and be dragged away by Jack. My boyfriend said nothing, but instead just shook his head and followed.
-- -- --
“You guys are too much!” I gushed half an hour later, holding up the black Vena Cava dress with a Maasai pattern on the torso, “Really, this is too much!”
Cassadee and Beth both shrugged, and the singer offered, “In all honesty, it was free. I did a photo spread for Vena Cava last month and they let me take some extras home. Never been worn and no defects though, I promise.”
“And this?” I inquired, holding up the Suzanna Dai Antwerp necklace that I knew had to cost over two hundred dollars.
Beth bit her lip, “That one is an actual purchase. But if it makes you feel any better, it’s from me, Mike, and Jersey.” The two men nodded behind her, and I sighed, running my fingers over the chains and charms. It really was lovely, and I didn’t want to give it back, so I just smiled and laid it lovingly back in the box, thanking them for the gift.
I’d already received so much, from some select outfits from my cousins, to a rare, signed Abbey Road vinyl from Nixon, to a new HD flatscreen from my parents. As usual, everyone had gone all out for a birthday celebration, and I was feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention.
My last gift was from Deveraux, who handed me a flat, square box. I opened it to reveal a necklace made up of silver and ebon beads, with a large, oval shaped bauble made of black agate set in silver. “It’s, um,” Deveraux cleared his throat, “A Tuareg turban necklace. I got it after my Sophomore year of college, when I was studying African cultures. It’s given to people for protection, and clarity.” He tapped the stone, “I thought you’d like it.”
“Deveraux, I love it!” I squealed, jumping up to hug him, “But are you sure you want to give it to me? I mean, it must mean so much to you.”
He laughed as I sat back down, waving his hand. “When I was there, I was staying with this man named Daktari, and his daughter Akua. Akua made jewelry like this for a living, and she cut me a deal on a lot of pieces; I have more than just that one.”
“Regardless,” I told him, “It’s beautiful, and I love it. Thankyou.” He nodded, and I gently put the necklace back before looking around. “Are we done? You all gave me such awesome stuff, but you all know I’m not good at accepting anything.”
Alex cleared his throat and raised a finger, and it wasn’t until then that I noticed he had not stepped forward to give me anything yet. “Uh, I have just a couple things; let me run up to the car real quick.” Along with Pete and Tomas, he disappeared up the stairs and I heard the distinct sound of the Range Rover hatch open; when had he put anything in there? I’d been with him all day. A few minutes later, Tomas waddled back into view, weighed down by three different gift bags. Pete and Alex followed, both in the same situation; there had to be at least twelve bags between the three of them.
“What is this?” I asked with wide eyes as they placed the bags in front of me. I peeked into one of them curiously, and upon seeing the black cashmere sweater I’d tried on at Body Central, I began to understand. “Alexander William Gaskarth,” my eyes snapped back up, “You didn’t.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, shoving his hands in his pocket, “I’m afraid I did.”
“No,” I shook my head, not even bothering to look through the other bags; I knew what was in them. “No, take it all back.”
“What? Why?”
Everyone was watching me intently, like I was throwing a hissy fit over something they didn’t understand. I closed my eyes and shook my head, “Alex, I tried on like a hundred things today; you’ll go bankrupt.”
“But I didn’t buy you all of the clothes,” he insisted, “Just the ones you really seemed to like. And a couple of the books you looked at, and a few movies. And, um, well,” he picked up one of the bags, “Just open this.” Begrudgingly, I took the bag and reached for the item inside. It was a thick black journal with leather covering, and my initials debossed on the front; it was identical to the one I already had, and I flipped it to the front page in confusion. Sure enough, it read:
“To Annette Luanne Vader on her 21st birthday, 08/26/2011.
So much has changed since this very day last year, but I want you to know that the words I wrote you back then are the same, and the meaning has not changed: ‘You are the definition of talent, no matter what anyone says to you. Don’t let anyone’s words of discouragement bring you down, because few people are lucky be in the league you’re in. You’re going to take this whole big world by storm some day soon, and I can’t wait to be waiting in the wings when you do.’ Thankyou for letting me wait in the wings, and know that I will always be here.
-Alexander William Gaskarth”
I read the words out loud, causing everyone to “aaw” and Alex to turn a spectacular shade of red, and by the last word I was tearing up, my throat closing around the words. I stood and touched his cheek, leaning in for a soft, slow kiss that seemed to light the world on fire, and I knew that the only person I’d ever want for the rest of my life was him.
Was it lust? Partially. Was it love? Not quite yet. Was it strong? Definitely.
-- -- --
“Bitch, stop being prettier than me,” Victoria snapped as I slipped off my jacket and handed it to the doorman. It was half past nine and we’d all just arrived at the Cardinal Club in Madison, filing in to see all of my hometown friends that had already arrived. Tuesday nights were private party nights, so again we had the whole club to ourselves, and it was filling up quickly with all the people I’d invited.
I laughed and headed for the bar, “Sorry, Vicks!” I looked down at myself; I’d chosen to wear the dress Cass had given me, paired with the necklace from Deveraux and the black-and-silver Jimmy Choo ankle boots that, ironically, Victoria had given me. “Hey,” I said when we reached the bartender, “Can I get a Crown & Coke, please?”
“ID please?” I flashed it at him and he studied it, doing some mental math before smiling, “Happy birthday.” He fixed me a quick drink, then squeezed a lime onto the rim of the glass and put it in my hand, stopping me when I reached to pay. “Charging the pretty birthday girl for a drink? I don’t need that kind of negative karma.” He winked at me and I thanked him with a blush before turning and heading out to welcome my guests. Alex stopped me, draping an arm around my waist and pulling me to him.
“You sure are catching a lot of eyes tonight,” he said with an amused smile. “The bartender, Nate, that guy over there,” he nodded to where--god help me--Alton was standing, watching us.
I cleared my throat, “That’s my ex-boyfriend.”
“Oh, so that’s the famous Alton?” He took in my nervous look and laughed, “Net, I’m not going to kick anyone’s ass just for looking at you. I know I’ve handled shit the wrong way in the past, but that was a really complicated time.” He kissed my nose, which made me giggle. “I’m not going to play the jealous boyfriend role, especially on your birthday. So don’t worry.”
I sighed happily, putting my free hand on his shoulder, “You’re wonderful, you know that?”
“I’ve heard.”
“I’m sure,” I snorted, then took his hand and tugged him forward, “Come on, I want you to meet some of my friends from Camellia Ridge.”
A while later, after saying hi to everyone and making polite introductions, I was sipping a Pepsi (I figured being drunk would be rude, as the hostess) and watching Nate and Elliott engage in a shot contest while Pete and Patrick refereed. (Mom and Tomas were at my house babysitting Dacian and Bronx so their parents could come out.) Nate was swaying back and forth dangerously, but Elliott looked close to death. “Mfradagagglwock,” he mumbled, staring at his shot glass.
Patrick’s eyebrows knitted together, “I am not from Fraggle Rock, and I resent the accusation.”
“Hrm?” The drunk man’s eyes started to roll back in his head, and Pete took the shot glass from his hand. “Okay, no more for you,” he ordered, leading Elliott to a small couch tucked against a wall, “Take a nice little nap.”
I bit my lip, “Make sure no one forgets about him.” Pete opened his mouth to make a little quip, but stopped suddenly when a new song began to play from the DJ booth.
“I just want to be better than your
Your head’s only medicine”
“Seriously?” He and Patrick both groaned in unison.
I turned a glare on them, “Hey, it’s my birthday playlist. I don’t give a shit if you guys are my producers or not; I’m never going to stop being a Fall Out Boy fan, even if Fall Out Boy no longer exists, so shush!” I caught the attention of my boyfriend, who was discussing something rather animatedly with Andrew, and waved him over. “Oh,” I told the guys, “And you better get your asses to the floor and dance. Now.” I took Alex’s hand as he approached and led him to the dance floor, immediately pressing against him and swaying to the music.
Reluctant but obedient, the two producers soon followed. Pete was dancing with Deveraux (weird), while Patrick had opted to share the time with Alessandria (possibly weirder). Then Jack and Kal joined, as well as Victoria and Alton, Jocelyn and Nixon, Gabe and Erica, Madison and her boyfriend, Tomas and Oliver, and Amanda and Rian. It was so funny, watching the way everyone attempted to dance in a set, sexy rhythm. Among us, I think Alex and I did it the best, but Pete and Deveraux ran a close second, which was only slightly disturbing.
That song transitioned into one of an equal pace, and I kept Alex held tightly against me, his body warm against mine, our bodies touching at almost every inch of skin and our breaths twining together. “Did I say thank you yet?” I inquired as “Burn This City” pumped through the speakers, completely enveloping us.
“For what?” He asked back, putting one hand on my hip to keep me in place as we moved.
“For everything,” I laughed. “Coming here, spoiling me, being an overall amazing boyfriend?”
He rolled his eyes, “Annette, you don’t have to thank me for doing something I like to do.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss against my forehead, murmuring words there, “I’m just happy that you’re happy.”
As he started to pull away, I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in again, pressing my lips to his strongly. I was overwhelmed, both by the events of the day and the emotions I had toward him, and it all cumulated in me trying to meld myself with him, kissing him with all I had. Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, I came to a decision: We were ready.
“Ahem!” The music cut abruptly and we pulled away from each other to look at Patrick, who was holding a glass of champagne in his hand, “Sorry, guys, I just have a quick announcement.”
I could hear and feel Alex breathing heavily against me and I tried to smother the excitement this raised in me, focusing only on Patrick. The bartenders began walking around with a tray of champagne glasses until everyone had one, and then the producer cleared his throat again. “I didn’t get Annette anything for her birthday because, frankly, I don’t know her well enough yet, so I decided to make a few announcements today in place of a physical gift. It pertains, of course, to Defy the Omniscient.” As if on automation, Kal, Deveraux, Jocelyn and I all took a few steps closer to where he stood, making sure we could hear everything right.
“First, we have finally set a recording schedule for the sophomore record.” Beside me, Khaye nodded happily and smiled. “It will be three weeks in LA, two weeks in Tampa, and another week in LA, starting September twenty-ninth.” Oh god, that was just over a month away! In one month, we would start recording our second album; that right there was enough to make me internally scream.
“Besides that,” he continued, “We will be shooting the music video for ‘Curtis’ on September tenth in Minnesota.” Again, floored. But there was still more. “And finally,” he took a deep breath and smiled, “It gives me great pleasure to announce something that pertains to a lot of us; tour.” I held my breath; until now, we’d had no idea what we would be doing for our next tour, but Pete said it would probably be something smaller than Tick Tock. “The next tour will feature Defy the Omniscient, as well as All Time Low,” Kal and I let out unified squeaks and looked to our respective boyfriends. “Hey Monday,” Patrick continued, “Cobra Starship.” The members of these bands exchanged glances and excited comments, before the man addressing us all took another deep breath, “And Fall Out Boy. Everyone, I’m happy to announce the Believers Resurrected Tour!”
“WHAT?!” Jersey screamed at the top of his lungs, bouncing up and down, “No fucking way; Fall Out Boy is touring again?! No fucking way,” he repeated, letting out another scream. I couldn’t blame him, though; on the inside, I was having the exact same reaction.
I turned to Khaye, eyes wide as she smiled at me knowingly. “Khaye, we get to tour with all our friends!”
“You truly are a blessed band,” she nodded, “You’ve been getting some good luck, girl. Cherish it.”
“Cherish it with me!” I requested, grabbing her hands. She let out a sigh before jumping up and down with me schoolgirls do, and I felt my heart racing beneath my chest; Fall Out Boy was touring again, and we were touring with them, and all of the other bands (minus Metro Station, who were no longer together) that had been on the original Believers Never Die Tour. It was almost too much to take in; I never could have imagined we would have that opportunity.
I didn’t even realize when Zack came up behind me until he picked me up and spun me about, then hugged me tightly. “Another tour with my best girl friend,” he said happily, but then his face became serious. “But if this is anything like the first tour, you better be ready for it. We played crowds three times the size of Tick Tock on an empty night; it’s insane.”
“And,” Chris chimed in, approaching us with Andrew at his side, “Fall Out Boy has been all but dead for the past three years, so the crowds are going to double on top of that. Think…” he tapped his finger to his chin, “If Jonas Brothers, Pink Floyd, and KISS all toured together.” I laughed at the visual, but Chris shook his head, “Seriously, Andrew and I went to the show in North Carolina, and we were almost crushed to death by fans.”
“I screamed,” Andrew interjected with a matter-of-fact nod, “Like a girl.”
But only one thought was sticking out on my mind. “We get to be Pink Floyd,” I announced after a long silence, shooting my hand up. “Fall Out Boy can be KISS, and All Time Low can be Jonas Brothers; they have the hair for it.”
“Plus there were all those rumors about Alex dating Demi Lovato and one point,” Khaye added with a smirk.
“And only two of them can actually play their instruments,” offered Chris.
I laughed and stood on tiptoes to find my boyfriend, who’d grouped together with his bandmates to chatter excitedly about the news. “Yo, Joe!” Though it wasn’t my name, Alex responded to my voice yelling to him. When his eyes found me, I made a heart with my hands and did my best fan girl screen, “I LOVE YOU, JOE JONAS!” He gave me a very confused look before turning back to his friends, and I did a small bow as everyone in my circle clapped. When I glanced at Alex again, he’d broken away from the group and was making his way back to me, a set look on his face. I was immediately reminded of the situation we’d been in, so close and intimate, and I felt my skin get clammy but my blood get warm as I excused myself to meet him in the middle. But just as I opened my mouth to express my wishes to him, he’d already opened his mouth to crush them.
“I think I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight.”
I blinked a few times, then cupped my hand around my ear, dumbfounded. “Uh, say that again?”
He sighed and reached out to tug on a strand of my hair, “Net, if I stay with you tonight, bad things will happen.”
“Bad for who?” I asked softly, laying my hands flat on his chest, “Alex, we’ve been going strong for a month; I think we’re past the whole sex-ruining-our-new-relationship thing.” Saying the words made me flush a little, but the dim lighting hid it well.
“I know,” he told me, and I could hear the honesty in everything he said, “I want to, and I’m ready to, but tonight isn’t the night. I understand it would be an amazing birthday present,” he joked, stepping closer, “But Alessandria, Erica, and Khaye are staying at the house tonight, not to mention Alessandria’s son.” He shook his head, “I’d rather not be responsible for the premature traumatizing of such a bright kid.”
I sighed, defeated. “You’re right, and I know you’re right, but I don’t like it.” I started to pull away, but he grabbed my hands and pulled me even closer.
“But,” he murmured, voice husky in my ear, “I’m not leaving until next Friday, so we have a whole mess of time to get into trouble.” He released me then, pecking my lips softly before walking back toward the bar.
So with that veiled promise and a whole new shot of adrenaline coursing through me, I walked on numb feet back to where Khaye and Andrew were debating tour sleeping patterns, but my mind was elsewhere for the rest of the night.
-- -- --
“If you ever,” I sang quietly later than night, “Change your mind about leaving, leaving me behind. Oh, honey, bring it to me--bring your sweet lovin’--bring it on home to me.” I was propped up in the guest bed, still in my dress and heels, humming the Sam Cooke classic to the two boys that huddled beneath the covers.
It was a little after one by the time we made it back to Grey Valley and picked up the boys from my mother’s house, where they’d been fast asleep on the living room floor, Popeye playing on the television before them. Per a slightly intoxicated Pete’s request, we took Bronx while he and Patrick went back to their hotel, promising to take good care of the boy until the morning. They’d both slept the entire way to my house and up the stairs, only to wake a few minutes later, when all of our houseguests were downstairs talking.
The boys were quiet, staring up at the ceiling, and I’d only been alerted to their wakefulness because I’d been on my way to my room to change when I saw them blinking. I’d offered to sing to them and they’d nodded to this idea, and were now watching me with drooping eyes and tiny smiles.
“You know, I tried to treat you right
But then you stayed out late at night
But I forgive you
Bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin’
Bring it on home to me”
By the time I’d finished the song, they were both back to snoozing, and I tucked the covers beneath them before slipping out quietly and back to my room, where I was surprised to find Alex sitting on the bed. “I thought you were going to keep your distance,” I joked lightly, desperately trying to stifle the urge to jump him without a warning.
He smirked and nodded, standing up and coming to me. “I was going to tell you something, but I saw you busy with the boys, so I decided to wait in here.” He tilted his head to the side, “You’re really sweet with them. Like a little mommy, singing them to sleep.”
“Tomas had these really bad night-terrors when he was a kid,” I shrugged, “I used to have to sing him back to sleep all the time, so it’s just habit.” I stared into his eyes, waiting for him to get close enough to touch. Once he did, I looped my arms around his neck and touched my forehead to his, “What were you going to tell me?”
“I was going to tell you,” he kissed my cheek, “Thanks for being born.”
Call it romantic, call it cheesy, call it just plain hormonal, but that was the sweetest thing I’d heard all night.
“You’re the one walking like a two-ton gorilla.”
“What kind of gorilla weighs four-thousand pounds?”
“A fat-ass Jack Barakat gorilla. Shut the fuck up!”
“I’m not fat, asshole!”
I heard the low hissing of hushed voices and the heavy thunk of footfall outside of my bedroom, and I growled lowly, curling into an even tighter ball against Alex’s side. Since our near-slip into the horizontal tango almost four weeks earlier, we’d practiced careful bedtime behavior. We dressed separately, and never in anything remotely provocative, and then fell asleep in each other’s arms, talking. I couldn’t believe he and Jack had really stayed for a full month. Aside from two LA meetings and a week-end benefit in New York, they didn’t seem to have any desire to leave Wisconsin. And I was perfectly okay with that. Alex and I were finally growing comfortable with being boyfriend and girlfriend, going on regular dates and even getting into a few tame fights, all of which were easily resolved. Everything was--dare I say it--perfect.
“She’s not gonna, like, kill us, is she?”
Well, almost perfect.
“Alex,” I whispered, poking him in the ribs, “What time is it?”
He grunted and opened one sleepy eye, turning his head to look at the digital clock on my bedside table. “Four-thirty; baby, why are you awake already?” Even after a month, he still had the ability to turn me red every time he called me baby. “Bad dreams or something?”
I shook my head, pointing to the closed bedroom door, “Someone’s out in the hall.”
“Net, it’s early; who would be out in the--”
“Ouch! Get the fuck off of me; are we doing this or not?”
Alex pressed his lips together, wide awake now, and rolled his eyes. “It’s Jack, with Rian and Zack.” He yawned, “They must have flown in early to surprise you.”
I groaned, covering my eyes with my hand. “It’s four o’clock! I can’t deal with three crazed guys this early. They’re going to want me to get up and do stuff and get me all worn out and grumpy.” I pouted up at Alex, and he looked back at me with glittering eyes. I remembered, all too late, that he had a strange fondness for my pouty face, and it was one of the things that had led to a few other near-slips in the past weeks.
“Follow my lead,” he whispered, pulling my comforter over our heads and covering my body with his so that he was pressed tight against me. I was about to demand what the hell he was doing when I heard my bedroom door open and Alex’s lips came down on mine, hard enough to make me let out a loud squeak of surprise that could have easily been mistaken for a moan.
“What the fuck, dude?” I heard someone--definitely Rian--whisper, “You said they weren’t sexually active yet!” Sexually active? Who says that?
But it was obviously working, so I wasn’t going to vocalize this question. Instead, I grabbed a handful of Alex’s shirt and hooked my leg up around his thigh, kissing him so forcefully that he groaned against me, his breath quickening. For the sake of our decision to wait, I hoped the guys left soon, because physical situations between Alex and I had a tendency to elevate quickly.
“Mm, Annette,” Alex said gruffly, and I had to kiss him again to keep the laughter from escaping my throat. The boy should have been an actor. Or maybe he wasn’t even faking; that was a flattering thought.
“Ew, it’s like watching my kid sister boff,” I heard Zack say with horror in his voice, “Let’s get out of here.” There was some moving around and the door clicked shut again, but Alex and I didn’t stop immediately. Instead, we kept kissing and touching lightly until his shirt was discarded and my lips felt swollen and raw. Then, with every shred of willpower we had between us, we stopped and settled back into bed for a few more hours of sleep before the sun began to peek through my bamboo shoot blinds.
“Baby,” Alex said gently then, waking me with a soft kiss to the forehead. I opened my eyes, blinking a few times, and smiled at him. “Hey,” he greeted, and I saw that he was already up and dressed, and looked oddly excited, “Happy birthday, baby.” He helped me out of bed and then shifted his gaze as I switched out my shorts for a pair of boot cut jeans and tugged a Bedlight For BlueEyes shirt over my the camisole I’d worn to bed. Once I’d brushed my hair and teeth in my bathroom, I slipped my hand through Alex’s and let him lead me out the door and toward the stairs.
“Oh, wait,” I insisted, stopping abruptly outside of the guest room. Inside, I could hear the distinct sound of two men snoring, and I knew that Rian and Zack had probably exhausted themselves and passed out in there. I grinned evilly and took a step back before kicking the door, hard enough to hurt my foot and make a loud bang, but not so hard that it did any damage to the wood. The snoring was quickly replaced with loud, girlish screams and the thud of someone falling out of bed. “That’s for waking me up at four o’clock this morning, assholes!” I shouted before giggling madly and running down the stairs, Alex on my heels and laughing as well.
“So I take it you’re savvy to Zack and Rian’s presence?” Jocelyn questioned as soon as my boyfriend and I reached the kitchen. I nodded, and she sighed, “Yeah, they aren’t exactly sneaky. But, um,” she raised an eyebrow at me, “They said they heard you guys getting it on at the early hours.”
Alex snorted loudly, covering his nose with his hand. I shook my head and answered for us, “We heard them coming; call it a harmless prank.”
“So you’re still virginial?” Leave it to Joce to talk about this so casually in front of Alex. It didn’t even embarrass me anymore.
“As virginial as a non-virgin can be,” I stated with pride, then looked over her shoulder at the stove. “What’s going on over there, honeybear?”
She blinked, as if suddenly remembering, and smiled her widest smile as she turned back to the countertop. After some scraping and flipping took place, she turned back with a large plate, filled with foods. “Call it our tradition,” she said, offering me a fork, “Happy birthday, Net.” This was the second birthday I’d shared with Jocelyn, and both times she’d made me the most amazing breakfast; I liked this tradition.
“Aw, thankyou, Jocelyn,” I smiled, looking over the plate. “You made my favorites again; you’re the best!”
“I thought I was the best,” Alex protested.
Jocelyn glanced at him, “I will hit you with a frying pan.” He put up his hands in a no-harm-intended gesture, and our drummer cracked a smirk, handing him a second plate of food and sitting down with a third for herself.
I took the first bite; it was delicious, of course. Had she not decided to pursue a career in music, Jocelyn could have been a chef at a five-star restaurant. “Mm,” I hummed happily, then swallowed and asked, “Where’s everyone else?”
Jocelyn took a sip of coffee and cleared her throat. “Rian, Zack, and Matt are still asleep.” Matt was here? Wow, that guy was quiet. “Kal and Jack are on airport duty with Tomas and Khaye, and Deveraux is finalizing some stuff for the party tonight.”
There were about fifteen band people either flying in or driving from nearby tour locations to celebrate my twenty-first birthday, which pretty much guaranteed it to be fantastic, even if the whole night ended up sucking, if that makes sense. Just knowing that I’d already gained such great friends on this career path was amazing.
There was some ruckus on the stairs and we all turned to look as Zack, Rian and Matt stumbled into view, very sleepy-looking and obviously pissed off. Rian grunted at me, “The fuck is your problem, Vader?”
I rolled my eyes, “You woke Alex and I up at four in the morning with your ‘two-ton gorilla’ talk.” I shoved a forkful of eggs in my mouth, “Payback’s a bitch.”
“When did you change your name to payback?” He asked snidely, which resulted in Jocelyn smacking him across the face with a spatula, leaving a wide red mark there. “Ouch, dammit, what was that for?” He demanded, holding the swelling blotch with one hand.
“Don’t call the birthday girl a bitch; were you raised by wolves?” Jocelyn pointed to the remaining island chairs, “Now sit and eat before I decide to make all of you starve today.” Not wanting to incur the Wrath of Jocelyn, Matt and Zack scurried to fix their plates and sit on one side of the island, while Rian lagged behind, grumbling to himself.
I leaned into Zack, frowning, “Ri’s sure being a dick today.”
The bassist sighed and nodded, “Wedding plans have him all stressed out. Right before we left last night, he and Kara got into some big fight about…place settings or, uh--”
“Guest lists,” Rian said without intonation, dropping down on the other side of the island. “She doesn’t want me to invite Cassadee.”
“Cass? Really?” I felt my forehead wrinkle.
He sighed and shrugged, “She somehow got it into her head that Cass is jiving for me. So you can imagine how thrilled she was to hear that Cassadee was going to be here, at this party. I am in such deep shit.” He took a long gulp of coffee and ran a hand over his head, where his hair was starting to grow out just slightly.
Alex put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing gently, “You guys gonna be okay, man?” Rian nodded, nibbling on a piece of turkey bacon and staring off into space.
Alex opened his mouth to say more, but I shoved at him and got as close to Rian’s face as I could. “Listen here, mopey: You love Kara, Kara loves you. You’re getting married next Spring, and nothing is going to change that. It’s my birthday; I’m official twenty-one today. Smile, or I will knock your teeth out.” He blinked at me with wide eyes before forcing a smile, which quickly became genuine as Matt started laughing and Jocelyn chuckled behind a paper napkin.
We all talked amongst the group for the next hour or so, taking calls as they came in about band friends getting safely checked into hotels, and from hometown friends asking for times and details. We were doing a huge, catered lunch by the lake at two, and then a big blowout at the Cardinal Club in Madison from nine on. Once we’d finished eating breakfast, that still left almost four hours before we had to be anywhere. Or, so I thought.
“Are you done?” Alex’s voice came quietly in my ear as Matt and Jocelyn discussed on-the-road organization animatedly. It was strange that they were both such quiet people, but seemed to always end up in some kind of heated debate.
I looked up at my boyfriend, “Yep!”
“Good,” he smiled warmly, “I have a few special plans for us today. We’ll be done by two, but you might get ready for the lake now just in case we don’t get back to the house before then.”
“What are we going to do?”
He gave me a crooked grin, “I’ve just got a couple surprises in mind.” He looked me over, “Go change for the lake; I want to leave within the next half hour.” Without another question, I excused myself and slipped out of my seat, heading for my room to change into the beautiful blue cotton sundress Kal and I had picked out the week before, for this very day.
-- -- --
“This is where you wanted to bring me?” I asked later, as Alex and I sat in the Range Rover outside of Yoli’s Liquor, where Abernathy Yoli was just now unlocking the door and waving us in.
Alex nodded and put the car in park. “You’re twenty-one now, Annette; it’s time you bought your very first bottle of booze.”
“I bought my first bottle of vodka from Abernathy when I was sixteen,” I told him blandly.
“Then it’s time you bought your very first legal of booze,” he corrected, popping open his door and stepping out, and I followed dutifully.
We weren’t in Yoli’s long before I fell in love with a pretty pink bottle of X Rated and a thirty pack of Bud Lite, both of which Alex paid for after I flashed Yoli my ID (which he ignored, as usual) and then we loaded back into the car for the next stop on Alex’s surprise list. It ended up being the mall, where he followed me around without complaint as I tried on various dresses and pairs of jeans, shoes and shirts, a wide array of accessories. He told me to pick anything I wanted, but two hours in I still hadn’t chosen anything. I was just happy to be with him, and that he seemed to actually be having a half-decent time watching me window shop.
“Hey, Net,” he told me as one o’clock rolled around. We were in the mall Fender shop, and I was watching as a band from Chicago--Friar Five--played an acoustic set. They were really good, the lead singer vocalizing about living on the streets when his mother lost their house because of a gambling addiction. I could barely look away to face my boyfriend. “I need to run down to the sports store real quick,” he told me, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “I told Jack I’d replace that football I accidentally ran over the other day.” I nodded and turned my attention back to Friar Five while Alex made his exit.
Half an hour later, we were both strapped into the car and headed to the lake, with me behind the wheel and a couple of McDonalds parfaits between us. I didn’t touch mine, however, opting instead to hold Alex’s hand tightly and lean over the center console to kiss him everything we hit a stop sign. “Today was fun,” I told him sweetly, really meaning it. “Thankyou for taking me around, honey.”
“I just wish you would have picked out something,” he said as we turned into the picnic site where a large van was parked between my mother’s van and my brother’s Taurus. Along the street, I could see the cars of various family members, and a few that I didn’t recognize. There were stairs leading over a slope, so I couldn’t see who all had already arrived. “Nervous?” Alex smirked as we parked in the shade of an overgrown oak tree.
I shrugged, “More excited than anything. But a little nervous too, I guess. I keep having this mental image of my friend Amanda jumping on Pete’s back and dry-humping him to death.”
He laughed easily, taking my hand and leading me to the stairs. “People handle being around musicians better than that and you know it; remember when you and Kal met us? You were the coolest girls at the concert.”
“We were freaked out, fan girl messes on the inside,” I confessed.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” he stopped us, leaning in to kiss my lips lightly, “I’m a freaked out, fan boy mess on the inside around you all the time.”
I stared at him, smiling and holding his face between my hands. “You’re such a cheese ball,” I chuckled, kissing him again quickly. “Okay,” I pulled back and took his hand, “Let’s do this.” We started down the steps, and I was almost immediately met by a huge group and a piercing chant of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” that echoed off of the trees and the water. In an instant, I felt tears pressing at the backs of my eyes and I had to blink a few dozen times to hold them back.
There were seven long picnic tables, one covered with food in buffet-style, one covered with paper-wrapped gifts, one empty, and four more with chairs surrounding them. Among these tables stood fifty-or-so people, all there to see little ol’ me. Parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, a few choice friends from Grey Valley (most of them were waiting until the club later), and close to twenty band and crew friends. Pete and Patrick were there, as well as Pete’s son, Bronx. Gabe, Vicky, Nate and Suarez, Cass, Mike, Jersey and Beth, Andrew and Chris, Elliott and Nixon, Erica and Alessandria, and Alessandria’s son, Dacian. I could hardly breathe; it was so good to see them all again.
I took almost fifteen minutes walking around hugging people and telling them how much I’d missed them before Mom ushered me over to the buffet table so everyone would start eating. The food was amazing: Gourmet burgers, airy steak fries, mashed potatoes, salads, grilled corn, a few veggie trays, and a pan of eggplant lasagna, per my request for Alex and I. We piled our plates high and arranged ourselves around the four tables, with me squeezed securely between Alex and Tomas, and sitting across from Pete, Bronx, and my parents. My mother was positively gushing, with Bronx standing on her lap and smacking his hands down on the table.
“He’s gorgeous, Peter!” She said as Bronx turned and started making faces at her, giggling at himself. I giggled as well, but mine was because she’d called him Peter and he didn’t even flinch. “Oh my lord, he looks exactly like you, except for that bright blonde hair; he must get that from his mother!” Seriously, she was turning pink.
“Murphy,” my dad said with a warning look while Tomas and I almost burst laughing. She’d had that same look on her face when I started high school, and then again when Tomas started. That oh-honey-let’s-have-another-baby face. And honestly, I didn’t know why they couldn’t. Tomas was in college, I was on a promising career path, and she was far from out of time.
Pete smiled and sipped his iced tea, “Yeah, the hair is all his mom; eyes too. But those cheeks and that smile? All me.”
“All you, Daddy!” Bronx squealed, giving his dad a high-five they’d obviously made a practice of. We all laughed then, and I felt Alex slip a hand over my knee under the table. I gave him a little grin and he returned it, pressing a kiss to my temple. He did this often--simple little unprompted shows of affection. It was one of my favorite things about him.
At the table behind us, I heard another small voice. “Mommy, who is that baby?”
I turned to see Alessandria leaning down to her son, who was turned in his seat between her and Erica. “That? Do you remember Mr. Wentz?” Dacian nodded, chewing on a carrot stick and staring, unblinking, at Bronx. “That’s his little boy; do you want to go say hi?”
Dacian was practically a young, male clone of Alessandria, with dark black-brown hair and twinkling silver-blue eyes, and pale skin. He was also alike in his strange thoughtfulness as he tilted his head to the side in thought. “Maybe later,” he finally decided, turning back to the table. I’d hardly known the little boy for half an hour, but I already knew he was bright beyond his years.
“Okay, baby,” Alessandria laughed, then said something to Erica that I couldn’t hear, so I put my attention back on my brother, who was roping Alex and I into a debate he had going on with Jersey and Patrick about vocal care tricks.
“Little brother,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder as he insisted that lemon juice wasn’t a sound treatment, “I love you, and you know I would defend you to the death. But I’d sort of rather not get into an argument with my new producer,” I jerked my head to Patrick, who smirked and rolled his eyes, taking another bite of eggplant lasagna. In all of the planning, we’d somehow neglected to check if he was going through another one of his vegetarian cycles, and indeed he was.
Once we’d all finished eating, Alex held me attention while something mysterious went on at one of the tables behind me. When he finally let me turn around, I saw my thirty pack sitting in the middle of the table, and ten cups arranged in a pyramid on either side. I blinked up at my dad, who was straightening the cups and cracking open a can of beer. “Are you serious?”
He gave me a cocky little grin, “I am your first challenger; show me what you’ve got, kid.”
I didn’t know what to think about that, so I just repeated, “Are you serious?”
“Yes!” He laughed, rolling up his sleeves and pouring his beer into the cups. “Sweetie, you think your mother and I didn’t realize that the random messages we would get at two in the morning were from you accidentally drunk texting the wrong person?” I blushed deeply as everyone laughed, burying my head against Alex’s shoulder. “So, in celebration of you now being of legal drinking age, I am going to whoop you in beer pong.”
I was still mortified, but intrigued at the same time, not to mention more than a little defiant of the confidence in his voice. “You wish, old man,” I finally said, standing from my seat and walking over to the table to crack open a beer. I started filling my own ten cups, and picked up the tiny plastic ball from the cup of water to the side. “Just promise me you won’t cry; there’s nothing sadder than a middle-aged ADA reduced to tears because his daughter creamed him in pong.”
“Tough talk,” he shot back, taking up his own ball, “Eye-to-eye.” We locked gazes across the table and, without looking, threw. His went in and mine banked off of a corner cup and onto the concrete. He was first. “Not so big and bad now, eh Belly?”
“Don’t get cocky, old man,” I shot back as he washed the dirt off of the plastic with the water in his cup, “It was just eye-to-eye; doesn’t even count for a cup.” I’d barely finished the sentence when the ball sailed over the table and into my front cup. I looked up with narrowed eyes and swallowed the beer within, “Lucky shot.” No sooner had I passed the ball back that it was soaring into a corner cup. “Shit.”
Ten minutes later, Dad had annihilated me. Twenty minutes later, I returned the favor. During our tie-breaker, it had come down to one cup each and I, by some grace of god, managed to sink mine first and started running around, pumping my fists in the air and doing a victory cheer. Dad laughed kindly and came to loop me into a hug, “Good game, sweetheart. Now,” he faced me sternly, “Don’t think that this is my approval of you drinking regularly; I still have the same expectations of my little girl as I always did.”
I nodded, feeling my eyes well as I was filled with love for him. “I know, Daddy, and you don’t need to worry. I love you.”
“Love you too,” he hugged me again, then released me to the group of friends that were still celebrating my victory. There were a few more games, but I had to stop after my fifth because I was starting to feel a little tipsy, and I sat down to fill my stomach with a few hamburger buns and mashed potatoes while the games went on behind me.
I was started a few minutes later when my cousin Lenny stood up on one of the tables and started waving her arms around. “Listen, this is fun and all, but can we cut some fuckin’ cake so Annette can start opening presents?!” There was a small chorus of cheers as everyone agreed, and I ducked my head. Leave it to Lenny to be so loud and demanding. We had actually considered taking her on the road with us as a tech, since her band never reformed after it’s hiatus back in 2009, but her personality (and enthusiasm for drinking) left something to be desired sometimes.
“On that note,” my Aunt Lizzie cleared her throat and reached up to yank Lenny down from the table, “Yes, let’s have cake.” She shoved her daughter into a chair and then walked with my mom and Aunt Georgia to a large box, opening it and lighting a few candles. Then, they carefully lifted the cake--a monstrously large, single-layed cake with smoothed, light-brown frosting and tiny mountains of whipped cream, nuts, and cherries. I could tell, just from looking at it, that it was the combined effort of the three women; mom, Lizzie, and Georgia had always enjoyed being in the kitchen together, which is how Lenny, Sammy, and I had always made the most money during school bake sales. Mom and Georgia had been so upset when Lizzie and her husband had divorced, and she had moved with Lenny to Milwaukee.
They set the cake in front of me and Aunt Georgia lit the final candle, smiling. “We made it,” she said, though I already knew. “It’s a dark chocolate crunch cake with kaluha mousse frosting; the same one we made you when you turned sixteen.” I remembered that birthday clearly; Lenny and her boyfriend-at-the-time had snuck the leftover kaluha out of the liquor cabinet and ended up being smashed for the entire afternoon. Her boyfriend had even thrown up on my new car.
“Thankyou, Aunt Gigi,” I whispered, reaching out to hug her tightly. After that, everyone sang a loud “Happy Birthday,” complete with Patrick’s vocal range and Alex’s lyrical improvisation. I stared at my candles, not really wishing for anything, but putting on the show that I was. After all, what could you ask fate to deliver that you weren’t already accomplishing on your own?
I blew out the candles, spitting the tiniest bits of wax onto the surface of the cake, and leaned back with a triumphant smile as Aunt Lizzie began cutting into it and passing out slices. “Cheers!” Cass squealed, plopping herself down right on my lap and tapping her plate against mine before feeding me a forkful of cake.
I chewed and swallowed before laughing at her giddiness, “Thanks, Cassadee! How are you?”
“Awesome,” she told me, “Enjoying time off, since Pete over there,” she pointed at him, “Hasn’t told us what our next tour is yet.”
“Working on it!” He called, then started chasing Bronx around, trying desperately to prevent the little boy from smearing chocolate all over everyone.
“And, um,” Cass continued, biting her lip and looking down at her plate, “Alex says hi. He wanted to come, but…you know…he just couldn’t.”
I felt a stab in my stomach; Lipshaw and I had barely had any contact since the show in Florida. He’d texted me to confirm when Mike told him Alex and I were officially a couple, and then a few times after that, but not like he used to. I’d broken his heart, and he wasn’t forgiving me. It would be easier if we were actually around each other more often, but living on opposite sides of the country made it all too easy for him to avoid me.
“How is he?” I asked quietly, not trusting my voice to go any louder without cracking, “I mean, he’s good?”
“He’s good,” Cass affirmed with a nod, “He’s been spending a lot of time with his family, which he loves. Writing a lot of music. He’s good,” she repeated.
“Good.” I pushed some cake around on my plate, and then heard Alex come up behind me.
“I don’t know what you did to bum my girlfriend out,” he told Cass like a parent berating a disobedient child, “But I don’t like it, and I want you to stop.” She stuck her tongue out and hopped off of my lap, walking off to join Beth and Sammy. Alex took her place, folding his lanky frame onto my lap, and touched my chin, “What‘s wrong, sadface?”
I shrugged, uncomfortable discussing it with him; he and Lipshaw hadn’t exactly been best friends throughout this whole thing, and I wasn’t going to add more fuel to the fire by admitting how much I missed my friend. “I’m just a little overwhelmed, I guess,” I lied, and feeling guilty for doing so.
He grinned, pressing a kiss to my lips that lingered for what felt like forever; a perfect forever, at that. “I know, baby, but it’s a big day; just relax and enjoy it.”
“Presents, presents, presents!” Jack half-sang, half-screamed as he bounced over to us, grabbing my arm and tugging at me.
“You were saying?” I laughed to Alex as he got off my lap so I could stand and be dragged away by Jack. My boyfriend said nothing, but instead just shook his head and followed.
-- -- --
“You guys are too much!” I gushed half an hour later, holding up the black Vena Cava dress with a Maasai pattern on the torso, “Really, this is too much!”
Cassadee and Beth both shrugged, and the singer offered, “In all honesty, it was free. I did a photo spread for Vena Cava last month and they let me take some extras home. Never been worn and no defects though, I promise.”
“And this?” I inquired, holding up the Suzanna Dai Antwerp necklace that I knew had to cost over two hundred dollars.
Beth bit her lip, “That one is an actual purchase. But if it makes you feel any better, it’s from me, Mike, and Jersey.” The two men nodded behind her, and I sighed, running my fingers over the chains and charms. It really was lovely, and I didn’t want to give it back, so I just smiled and laid it lovingly back in the box, thanking them for the gift.
I’d already received so much, from some select outfits from my cousins, to a rare, signed Abbey Road vinyl from Nixon, to a new HD flatscreen from my parents. As usual, everyone had gone all out for a birthday celebration, and I was feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention.
My last gift was from Deveraux, who handed me a flat, square box. I opened it to reveal a necklace made up of silver and ebon beads, with a large, oval shaped bauble made of black agate set in silver. “It’s, um,” Deveraux cleared his throat, “A Tuareg turban necklace. I got it after my Sophomore year of college, when I was studying African cultures. It’s given to people for protection, and clarity.” He tapped the stone, “I thought you’d like it.”
“Deveraux, I love it!” I squealed, jumping up to hug him, “But are you sure you want to give it to me? I mean, it must mean so much to you.”
He laughed as I sat back down, waving his hand. “When I was there, I was staying with this man named Daktari, and his daughter Akua. Akua made jewelry like this for a living, and she cut me a deal on a lot of pieces; I have more than just that one.”
“Regardless,” I told him, “It’s beautiful, and I love it. Thankyou.” He nodded, and I gently put the necklace back before looking around. “Are we done? You all gave me such awesome stuff, but you all know I’m not good at accepting anything.”
Alex cleared his throat and raised a finger, and it wasn’t until then that I noticed he had not stepped forward to give me anything yet. “Uh, I have just a couple things; let me run up to the car real quick.” Along with Pete and Tomas, he disappeared up the stairs and I heard the distinct sound of the Range Rover hatch open; when had he put anything in there? I’d been with him all day. A few minutes later, Tomas waddled back into view, weighed down by three different gift bags. Pete and Alex followed, both in the same situation; there had to be at least twelve bags between the three of them.
“What is this?” I asked with wide eyes as they placed the bags in front of me. I peeked into one of them curiously, and upon seeing the black cashmere sweater I’d tried on at Body Central, I began to understand. “Alexander William Gaskarth,” my eyes snapped back up, “You didn’t.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, shoving his hands in his pocket, “I’m afraid I did.”
“No,” I shook my head, not even bothering to look through the other bags; I knew what was in them. “No, take it all back.”
“What? Why?”
Everyone was watching me intently, like I was throwing a hissy fit over something they didn’t understand. I closed my eyes and shook my head, “Alex, I tried on like a hundred things today; you’ll go bankrupt.”
“But I didn’t buy you all of the clothes,” he insisted, “Just the ones you really seemed to like. And a couple of the books you looked at, and a few movies. And, um, well,” he picked up one of the bags, “Just open this.” Begrudgingly, I took the bag and reached for the item inside. It was a thick black journal with leather covering, and my initials debossed on the front; it was identical to the one I already had, and I flipped it to the front page in confusion. Sure enough, it read:
“To Annette Luanne Vader on her 21st birthday, 08/26/2011.
So much has changed since this very day last year, but I want you to know that the words I wrote you back then are the same, and the meaning has not changed: ‘You are the definition of talent, no matter what anyone says to you. Don’t let anyone’s words of discouragement bring you down, because few people are lucky be in the league you’re in. You’re going to take this whole big world by storm some day soon, and I can’t wait to be waiting in the wings when you do.’ Thankyou for letting me wait in the wings, and know that I will always be here.
-Alexander William Gaskarth”
I read the words out loud, causing everyone to “aaw” and Alex to turn a spectacular shade of red, and by the last word I was tearing up, my throat closing around the words. I stood and touched his cheek, leaning in for a soft, slow kiss that seemed to light the world on fire, and I knew that the only person I’d ever want for the rest of my life was him.
Was it lust? Partially. Was it love? Not quite yet. Was it strong? Definitely.
-- -- --
“Bitch, stop being prettier than me,” Victoria snapped as I slipped off my jacket and handed it to the doorman. It was half past nine and we’d all just arrived at the Cardinal Club in Madison, filing in to see all of my hometown friends that had already arrived. Tuesday nights were private party nights, so again we had the whole club to ourselves, and it was filling up quickly with all the people I’d invited.
I laughed and headed for the bar, “Sorry, Vicks!” I looked down at myself; I’d chosen to wear the dress Cass had given me, paired with the necklace from Deveraux and the black-and-silver Jimmy Choo ankle boots that, ironically, Victoria had given me. “Hey,” I said when we reached the bartender, “Can I get a Crown & Coke, please?”
“ID please?” I flashed it at him and he studied it, doing some mental math before smiling, “Happy birthday.” He fixed me a quick drink, then squeezed a lime onto the rim of the glass and put it in my hand, stopping me when I reached to pay. “Charging the pretty birthday girl for a drink? I don’t need that kind of negative karma.” He winked at me and I thanked him with a blush before turning and heading out to welcome my guests. Alex stopped me, draping an arm around my waist and pulling me to him.
“You sure are catching a lot of eyes tonight,” he said with an amused smile. “The bartender, Nate, that guy over there,” he nodded to where--god help me--Alton was standing, watching us.
I cleared my throat, “That’s my ex-boyfriend.”
“Oh, so that’s the famous Alton?” He took in my nervous look and laughed, “Net, I’m not going to kick anyone’s ass just for looking at you. I know I’ve handled shit the wrong way in the past, but that was a really complicated time.” He kissed my nose, which made me giggle. “I’m not going to play the jealous boyfriend role, especially on your birthday. So don’t worry.”
I sighed happily, putting my free hand on his shoulder, “You’re wonderful, you know that?”
“I’ve heard.”
“I’m sure,” I snorted, then took his hand and tugged him forward, “Come on, I want you to meet some of my friends from Camellia Ridge.”
A while later, after saying hi to everyone and making polite introductions, I was sipping a Pepsi (I figured being drunk would be rude, as the hostess) and watching Nate and Elliott engage in a shot contest while Pete and Patrick refereed. (Mom and Tomas were at my house babysitting Dacian and Bronx so their parents could come out.) Nate was swaying back and forth dangerously, but Elliott looked close to death. “Mfradagagglwock,” he mumbled, staring at his shot glass.
Patrick’s eyebrows knitted together, “I am not from Fraggle Rock, and I resent the accusation.”
“Hrm?” The drunk man’s eyes started to roll back in his head, and Pete took the shot glass from his hand. “Okay, no more for you,” he ordered, leading Elliott to a small couch tucked against a wall, “Take a nice little nap.”
I bit my lip, “Make sure no one forgets about him.” Pete opened his mouth to make a little quip, but stopped suddenly when a new song began to play from the DJ booth.
“I just want to be better than your
Your head’s only medicine”
“Seriously?” He and Patrick both groaned in unison.
I turned a glare on them, “Hey, it’s my birthday playlist. I don’t give a shit if you guys are my producers or not; I’m never going to stop being a Fall Out Boy fan, even if Fall Out Boy no longer exists, so shush!” I caught the attention of my boyfriend, who was discussing something rather animatedly with Andrew, and waved him over. “Oh,” I told the guys, “And you better get your asses to the floor and dance. Now.” I took Alex’s hand as he approached and led him to the dance floor, immediately pressing against him and swaying to the music.
Reluctant but obedient, the two producers soon followed. Pete was dancing with Deveraux (weird), while Patrick had opted to share the time with Alessandria (possibly weirder). Then Jack and Kal joined, as well as Victoria and Alton, Jocelyn and Nixon, Gabe and Erica, Madison and her boyfriend, Tomas and Oliver, and Amanda and Rian. It was so funny, watching the way everyone attempted to dance in a set, sexy rhythm. Among us, I think Alex and I did it the best, but Pete and Deveraux ran a close second, which was only slightly disturbing.
That song transitioned into one of an equal pace, and I kept Alex held tightly against me, his body warm against mine, our bodies touching at almost every inch of skin and our breaths twining together. “Did I say thank you yet?” I inquired as “Burn This City” pumped through the speakers, completely enveloping us.
“For what?” He asked back, putting one hand on my hip to keep me in place as we moved.
“For everything,” I laughed. “Coming here, spoiling me, being an overall amazing boyfriend?”
He rolled his eyes, “Annette, you don’t have to thank me for doing something I like to do.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss against my forehead, murmuring words there, “I’m just happy that you’re happy.”
As he started to pull away, I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in again, pressing my lips to his strongly. I was overwhelmed, both by the events of the day and the emotions I had toward him, and it all cumulated in me trying to meld myself with him, kissing him with all I had. Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, I came to a decision: We were ready.
“Ahem!” The music cut abruptly and we pulled away from each other to look at Patrick, who was holding a glass of champagne in his hand, “Sorry, guys, I just have a quick announcement.”
I could hear and feel Alex breathing heavily against me and I tried to smother the excitement this raised in me, focusing only on Patrick. The bartenders began walking around with a tray of champagne glasses until everyone had one, and then the producer cleared his throat again. “I didn’t get Annette anything for her birthday because, frankly, I don’t know her well enough yet, so I decided to make a few announcements today in place of a physical gift. It pertains, of course, to Defy the Omniscient.” As if on automation, Kal, Deveraux, Jocelyn and I all took a few steps closer to where he stood, making sure we could hear everything right.
“First, we have finally set a recording schedule for the sophomore record.” Beside me, Khaye nodded happily and smiled. “It will be three weeks in LA, two weeks in Tampa, and another week in LA, starting September twenty-ninth.” Oh god, that was just over a month away! In one month, we would start recording our second album; that right there was enough to make me internally scream.
“Besides that,” he continued, “We will be shooting the music video for ‘Curtis’ on September tenth in Minnesota.” Again, floored. But there was still more. “And finally,” he took a deep breath and smiled, “It gives me great pleasure to announce something that pertains to a lot of us; tour.” I held my breath; until now, we’d had no idea what we would be doing for our next tour, but Pete said it would probably be something smaller than Tick Tock. “The next tour will feature Defy the Omniscient, as well as All Time Low,” Kal and I let out unified squeaks and looked to our respective boyfriends. “Hey Monday,” Patrick continued, “Cobra Starship.” The members of these bands exchanged glances and excited comments, before the man addressing us all took another deep breath, “And Fall Out Boy. Everyone, I’m happy to announce the Believers Resurrected Tour!”
“WHAT?!” Jersey screamed at the top of his lungs, bouncing up and down, “No fucking way; Fall Out Boy is touring again?! No fucking way,” he repeated, letting out another scream. I couldn’t blame him, though; on the inside, I was having the exact same reaction.
I turned to Khaye, eyes wide as she smiled at me knowingly. “Khaye, we get to tour with all our friends!”
“You truly are a blessed band,” she nodded, “You’ve been getting some good luck, girl. Cherish it.”
“Cherish it with me!” I requested, grabbing her hands. She let out a sigh before jumping up and down with me schoolgirls do, and I felt my heart racing beneath my chest; Fall Out Boy was touring again, and we were touring with them, and all of the other bands (minus Metro Station, who were no longer together) that had been on the original Believers Never Die Tour. It was almost too much to take in; I never could have imagined we would have that opportunity.
I didn’t even realize when Zack came up behind me until he picked me up and spun me about, then hugged me tightly. “Another tour with my best girl friend,” he said happily, but then his face became serious. “But if this is anything like the first tour, you better be ready for it. We played crowds three times the size of Tick Tock on an empty night; it’s insane.”
“And,” Chris chimed in, approaching us with Andrew at his side, “Fall Out Boy has been all but dead for the past three years, so the crowds are going to double on top of that. Think…” he tapped his finger to his chin, “If Jonas Brothers, Pink Floyd, and KISS all toured together.” I laughed at the visual, but Chris shook his head, “Seriously, Andrew and I went to the show in North Carolina, and we were almost crushed to death by fans.”
“I screamed,” Andrew interjected with a matter-of-fact nod, “Like a girl.”
But only one thought was sticking out on my mind. “We get to be Pink Floyd,” I announced after a long silence, shooting my hand up. “Fall Out Boy can be KISS, and All Time Low can be Jonas Brothers; they have the hair for it.”
“Plus there were all those rumors about Alex dating Demi Lovato and one point,” Khaye added with a smirk.
“And only two of them can actually play their instruments,” offered Chris.
I laughed and stood on tiptoes to find my boyfriend, who’d grouped together with his bandmates to chatter excitedly about the news. “Yo, Joe!” Though it wasn’t my name, Alex responded to my voice yelling to him. When his eyes found me, I made a heart with my hands and did my best fan girl screen, “I LOVE YOU, JOE JONAS!” He gave me a very confused look before turning back to his friends, and I did a small bow as everyone in my circle clapped. When I glanced at Alex again, he’d broken away from the group and was making his way back to me, a set look on his face. I was immediately reminded of the situation we’d been in, so close and intimate, and I felt my skin get clammy but my blood get warm as I excused myself to meet him in the middle. But just as I opened my mouth to express my wishes to him, he’d already opened his mouth to crush them.
“I think I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight.”
I blinked a few times, then cupped my hand around my ear, dumbfounded. “Uh, say that again?”
He sighed and reached out to tug on a strand of my hair, “Net, if I stay with you tonight, bad things will happen.”
“Bad for who?” I asked softly, laying my hands flat on his chest, “Alex, we’ve been going strong for a month; I think we’re past the whole sex-ruining-our-new-relationship thing.” Saying the words made me flush a little, but the dim lighting hid it well.
“I know,” he told me, and I could hear the honesty in everything he said, “I want to, and I’m ready to, but tonight isn’t the night. I understand it would be an amazing birthday present,” he joked, stepping closer, “But Alessandria, Erica, and Khaye are staying at the house tonight, not to mention Alessandria’s son.” He shook his head, “I’d rather not be responsible for the premature traumatizing of such a bright kid.”
I sighed, defeated. “You’re right, and I know you’re right, but I don’t like it.” I started to pull away, but he grabbed my hands and pulled me even closer.
“But,” he murmured, voice husky in my ear, “I’m not leaving until next Friday, so we have a whole mess of time to get into trouble.” He released me then, pecking my lips softly before walking back toward the bar.
So with that veiled promise and a whole new shot of adrenaline coursing through me, I walked on numb feet back to where Khaye and Andrew were debating tour sleeping patterns, but my mind was elsewhere for the rest of the night.
-- -- --
“If you ever,” I sang quietly later than night, “Change your mind about leaving, leaving me behind. Oh, honey, bring it to me--bring your sweet lovin’--bring it on home to me.” I was propped up in the guest bed, still in my dress and heels, humming the Sam Cooke classic to the two boys that huddled beneath the covers.
It was a little after one by the time we made it back to Grey Valley and picked up the boys from my mother’s house, where they’d been fast asleep on the living room floor, Popeye playing on the television before them. Per a slightly intoxicated Pete’s request, we took Bronx while he and Patrick went back to their hotel, promising to take good care of the boy until the morning. They’d both slept the entire way to my house and up the stairs, only to wake a few minutes later, when all of our houseguests were downstairs talking.
The boys were quiet, staring up at the ceiling, and I’d only been alerted to their wakefulness because I’d been on my way to my room to change when I saw them blinking. I’d offered to sing to them and they’d nodded to this idea, and were now watching me with drooping eyes and tiny smiles.
“You know, I tried to treat you right
But then you stayed out late at night
But I forgive you
Bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin’
Bring it on home to me”
By the time I’d finished the song, they were both back to snoozing, and I tucked the covers beneath them before slipping out quietly and back to my room, where I was surprised to find Alex sitting on the bed. “I thought you were going to keep your distance,” I joked lightly, desperately trying to stifle the urge to jump him without a warning.
He smirked and nodded, standing up and coming to me. “I was going to tell you something, but I saw you busy with the boys, so I decided to wait in here.” He tilted his head to the side, “You’re really sweet with them. Like a little mommy, singing them to sleep.”
“Tomas had these really bad night-terrors when he was a kid,” I shrugged, “I used to have to sing him back to sleep all the time, so it’s just habit.” I stared into his eyes, waiting for him to get close enough to touch. Once he did, I looped my arms around his neck and touched my forehead to his, “What were you going to tell me?”
“I was going to tell you,” he kissed my cheek, “Thanks for being born.”
Call it romantic, call it cheesy, call it just plain hormonal, but that was the sweetest thing I’d heard all night.
♠ ♠ ♠
Birthday dress & matching necklaceDeveraux's necklace
Vicky's shoes
Sorry you still didn't get to read any sexy fun time. Something to look forward to. Perhaps a surprise part four or something, lol. Ya never know. I know, but you don't, lol. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. :D
SPECIAL SHOUTOUT! The lovely Sam will be turning 27 on June 17th (same day that my niece will be turning 4, actually), so I want you all to wish her a very happy birthday if you can! Her Twitter username is @redlemmas and just be like OMGADHFADSHFAHAPPYBIRTHDAY because she is awesome.
It's really late and I'm severely overworked, so I can't really remember everything I told myself I needed to convey to you in this author's note, so........ I'm just going to leave it at this, haha.
Love, to the tenth.
You guys are amazing. <3