Smiling at Everything

Jazz and Zack walked into the restaurant together. While they had been waiting at Jazz's apartment, they agreed not to mention the talk they had. Jazz wanted her friends to find out on their own. She didn't want Zack to make it obvious for them. He made her promise that, if whatever was causing her to act the way she did got out of hand, she would tell her friends. Aside from the agreements they made, they didn't do much of anything. They watched television together and Zack listened to her contact her students about lessons.

Despite how boring the activities seemed to be, Zack knew that it was much more fun then being by himself. Simply being in Jazz's presence was enough to keep him entertained.

Jazz kept a fake smile on her face as they walked up to the hostess podium. The second Jazz stepped out of her car, she had been all fake smiles. She knew Zack must have been at least slightly disappointed but she couldn't let her defenses down yet.

The hostess looked up from her paper as they approached, smiling brightly. She recognized them in an instant.

"You're here for the tour meeting. Follow me," the hostess said.

They did as instructed, following the hostess to a room sectioned off from the rest of the restaurant. The hostess held the door open for them.

"Thank you," Jazz chimed as she walked through the door.

Zack mumbled a "thanks" and walked in after Jazz. He wasn't one for social interaction. Not like Jazz. He didn't know how she did it most of the time. Then again, falsifying her emotions was a daily thing for her. Being social was the least of her worries.

The two walked to the only table in the meeting room, the one filled with band members.

"I'm here, you're lives just got better," Jazz announced as she approached the table, voice full of false pep.

Zack shook his head at her, walking to where the empty seat near his band mates was located. He had to admit that, even though he could see through her, she was a good actress. Had he not been paying so much attention to her, he wouldn't have noticed. Jazz had plenty of factors working in her favor to keep people from noticing, the main one being her killer body that no man could look past. Another reason being that she knew how her friends expected her to act. She could get away with anything.

"I think I felt elation run through my body the second you walked in the room," Dorian said, "Or that may be my heart exploding."

"See, my presence is amazing," Jazz said, tossing her hair over her shoulders.

"How much caffeine did you consume before you got here?" Dante asked.

"None o' yo' business," Jazz said.

"Great now, we have two hyperactive band members," Lestat mumbled.

"Who else is hyper?" Jazz asked.

"Me," Dorian exclaimed, hopping in his seat, "I had so much candy before Joseph and I got here."

Jazz gasped, "Joseph's here? Where's my gay lover?"

Jazz wasn't as hyper as she was making herself out to be. She did consume plenty of caffeine before attending the meeting while Zack told her she needed to slowdown on the energy drinks. As the seconds ticked on, her brain was slowly malfunctioning. She needed more caffeine as soon as possible.

Maybe she could convince the waiter to run to the nearest corner store and pick up an energy drink for her.

"I thought I was your gay lover," Dorian pouted.

"You are my gay lover," Jazz exclaimed, "But you're my special gay lover that no one is allowed to know about."

"That sounds exciting."

"Why is it our two members with the highest IQs are retarded and loud?" Lestat asked.

"No idea. Our members with the higher IQs don't say anything," Alex said, rocking the sleeping Novella in his arms.

Jazz glanced at Rian and Zack, the two she was assuming he was referring to. Rian was typing a text message on his phone, most likely to his girlfriend, and not paying attention to his band mate. Zack was watching the scene. Or, rather, watching Jazz with knowing eyes.

"I have a better question," Dorian said, "The local train—heading for Westford at sixty kilometers per hour—and the express train—heading for Eastford at eighty kilometers per hour—pass each other at Centerville while heading in opposite directions along a straight roadbed. Westford and Eastford are one hundred ninety-five kilometers apart, and, if the local train makes one additional fifteen minute stop after passing Centerville, the express completes its run before the local does. What is the maximum distance to the nearest kilometer between Westford and Centerville?"

"Train problems," Jazz squealed, "Okay, I have one: Every hour, on the hour, a train leaves Tallahassee for Jacksonville, while another train leaves Jacksonville for Tallahassee. The trip between the two cities takes exactly two hours. How many trains going in the opposite direction will a Tallahassee train to Jacksonville meet?"

Zack raised an eyebrow at the two. Did they really just pull out random train problems? What normal human being did that?

"It's like they're speaking their own language," Arpeggio mumbled.

"You give up trying to understand at a certain point," Neon said.

"You're just jealous I know math," Jazz said, finally sitting in the empty seat next to Neon and across from Zack.

Jazz noticed that Armand was fast asleep in Neon's arms, just as his twin sister was fast asleep in their father's arms. The twins had a habit of falling asleep around the same time. It was something Jazz was thankful for when she babysat them. However, they woke up around the same time too, demanding entertainment.

Jazz was like a human Barbie doll for them.

"I see you wore the shortest possible shorts you could get away with," Neon commented.

"I told you I wasn't going to wear pants," Jazz replied.

"I was hoping you were joking."

"You sound stressed."

"I spent most of today packing. At this point, I just want to go to sleep," Neon said.

"You should have drunk some caffeine like me," Jazz stated.

"The amount of caffeine I need would kill my brain cells."

Jazz forced herself to giggle. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Zack cringe. She still didn't understand how he was the only one who noticed. Neon was completely unfazed by her fake giggles and smiles. The two had been friends for years and the lead singer couldn't seem to see past Jazz's façade. A best friend was supposed to notice those things.

She and Neon didn't seem to be best friends anymore though. They had grown apart over the years. Specifically after freshman year. But their drift started in seventh grade when it happened the first time, when Jazz had to start keeping it a secret.

Or should Jazz count it as three times? There were three different occasions during her seventh grade year that it happened. And even more during the end of her freshman year that it happened. The last few weeks of her freshman year were her personal hell.

Zack could see Jazz slowly fading out from the conversation around her. He nudged her knee, hoping to make her come back to full consciousness. She stayed staring into space, lost in her thoughts. He was sure that she wouldn't space out so much if she talked to someone about it.

He jabbed her harder in the knee with his shoe; Jazz snapped out of her daze. Keeping a smile on her face, she looked around. Again, she hadn't realized she had spaced out. Had it not been for Zack, she would have been brought back to the present by one of the voices from her memory. This was getting ridiculous.

Jazz mouthed a "thank you" to Zack. He smiled in return. Whatever was hurting her was taking over her life. She faked her life in front of her parents; she faked emotions in front of her band mates. When she was at home, he was sure she was trying to keep herself from remembering. That wasn't a way to live life.

Grim, Matt, Joseph, and four men Jazz didn't know walked into the room and stood at the head of the table.

"I hope you guys are ready to start this meeting," Grim said.

"Can I order cake first?" Dorian asked.

"Shut up," Dante demanded.

Lestat sighed, slouching in his seat, "This is going to be a long meeting."