One in a Million

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

She felt a blind mixture of emotions that she couldn’t sort through quick enough in the seconds between the sight of his face and the sound of him asking if she was okay. She couldn’t understand. How could this be happening?

She was in disbelief first. She had to scan his face multiple times just to make sure her vision wasn’t playing tricks on her. She skimmed over everything—the curls of his hair, the heart shape of his lips, the freckle on his nose, the brown color of his anxious eyes—and she blinked over and over again, but nothing on that face changed.

He was real.

“Aalia?” he asked quietly, never removing his eyes from hers.

She couldn’t respond.

Then the laughing took over.

His eyebrows creased in confusion. “What’s funny?”

“I must be crazy,” she said under her breath between laughs.

“What’d you say?”

She threw her head back with noisy laughs. She felt like a drunken Aiden.

“Don’t be so loud,” he warned, looking around anxiously as he did before.

She ignored him, laughing and staring at him while shaking her head. He grabbed her shoulders and moved her away from the crowd. He sat her down on the bench and took a seat beside her, slipping his sunglasses back on and double-checking that his cap covered enough of his hair.

“I told you I can’t be seen here,” he reminded her.

She covered her mouth in an attempt to quiet her laughter.

“Why in the world are you laughing?”

She rolled her eyes, amused. “This is a joke, right?” she asked, “Caroline set this up to be funny, right?”

“What? No, Aalia. This isn’t a joke. It’s me.”

“You’re Nick Jonas,” she whispered.

He nodded.

She laughed again, louder that time.

“Look,” he began quietly, leaning into her, “I know this must be weird for you, but—"

“You know, I gotta hand it to you. This is a funny joke. Like, I’m genuinely amused by this.”

“Aalia, this isn’t a joke,” he repeated, “I swear.”

The blindingly white smile slowly disappeared from her face and she looked at him for a long while. Something was hidden there in his voice, but what was it?

“I swear it’s me,” he repeated.

Her heart began to beat rapidly as she listened to the smoothness of his voice and the way he said her name. She knew that voice all too well. She’d heard it every night for so long. She could point out that voice anywhere.

But how could it be his?

She suddenly felt nervous.

“This isn’t happening,” she said quietly, standing up.

He was quick to get on his feet, too. She began to walk away from him.

“Wait, don’t go,” he pleaded.

She turned to face him.

“I’m sorry if I’m not what you expected,” he said, “I just…You deserved to know.”

“You saw me before. With Caroline. At your house. And you never said anything.”

His throat felt dry.

“I was nervous,” he said, “I didn’t know what to do. Aalia, I’m sorry.”

She stared at his pleading face, resisting the conflicting urge to touch it. She felt silly. Just the other day, she was complaining about how he wasn’t her type. At the pool party, she saw him as nothing all that special. But at that moment, looking into his eyes, their faces just inches apart, something inside her was changing.

“Nick, is that you?” They heard a voice behind them. Aalia turned around and saw Caroline walking towards them with squinty eyes, trying to see if it was really him.

He placed a finger over his mouth, motioning at her to be quiet and keep his identity on the down-low. She nodded with understanding, walking over to them casually.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, smiling. She didn’t think much of Aalia’s stunned expression. “I thought you were recording today.”

“I was,” he said, “I mean, I am. But later.”

“You remember Aalia, right?” she asked, putting an arm around her friend, “She’s supposed to be meeting a friend here.” She winked.

He nodded slowly.

The three of them began to hear members of the crowd grow louder with curious gasps. He was the first to notice and sigh loudly. Aalia heard people whisper his name and he turned to her quickly.

“They recognized me,” he explained, “Take these and go.” He gave his sunglasses to Aalia and his baseball cap to Caroline. Aalia got her first look of his full head of curls. They were shorter than she’d seen in pictures. “Put them on before they pull you both into all this, too.”

Caroline was quick to tuck her hair underneath the cap and push it over her eyes as if she’d done it multiple times. Aalia weighed the sunglasses in her hands, unsure of what to do. The crowd got louder.

“Put them on, Aalia,” Caroline warned her. She nervously obeyed.

He motioned them away as a group of girls approached them with overly excited faces.

Caroline took Aalia’s hand and pulled her away. They took off running for the car, just in time to miss the biggest crowd and mass of paparazzi. Aalia glanced over her shoulder and saw him signing autographs and taking pictures with a practiced smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Do you still want to wait for your boy?” Caroline asked as soon as they reached her car, “Funny how you saw Nick here, huh? I came to say hi after I saw you talking to him.”

Aalia was still recovering from her moment of distress.

“Maybe he just couldn’t wait to see you again,” Caroline teased.

“Caroline,” Aalia sighed deeply, burying her head in her hands.

“What?” Caroline laughed, “You know I’m just messing around with you.”

“It’s him, Caroline.”

Caroline laughed again. “Yeah, it’s him. Nick Jonas. I thought you were over your little star-struck phase, girl.”

“No, it’s him, Caroline. He’s him. The Mystery Boy.”

Aalia looked up from her hands to see Caroline’s wide eyes.

“Nick Jonas is the Mystery Boy,” she repeated.

“Oh my, God!” Caroline exclaimed, her face lighting up with a huge smile, “No fucking way! Holy—"

“Why are you happy?” Aalia asked, “This isn’t a good thing, Caroline.” She removed his sunglasses from her face and held them cautiously in her hands.

“How can it not be a good thing? It’s Nick fucking Jonas, Aalia! Out of all the people in the world, it’s him!”

“I don’t know,” Aalia sighed. She didn’t fully understand why she was so afraid of the entire situation.

“Why aren’t you happy?” said Caroline, “You finally found your Mystery Boy. You finally know who he is! And he’s my boyfriend’s brother! How could this get any better? Honestly, Aalia.”

“He’s just…not who I expected him to be.”

“What did I tell you about having expectations about this? You’re being overdramatic.”

“What? How am I being overdramatic? I’ve been talking on the phone to a celebrity for weeks. He made himself sound like such an ordinary, normal person. I thought we had so much in common.”

Aalia looked out the window at where he stood. She couldn’t even see him amidst the swarm of teenage girls and flashing cameras.

“I told him everything. I told him all about how I felt about everything, Caroline. I told him about how I felt so tired of my life. So unbelievably tired. I was going nowhere and I still am. I told him all about your acting career and Dylan’s boxing career and my lack of a career. I have nothing, Caroline. And he understood. You know? He got it. He said he told me that he was in the same boat, that he felt like his whole life was a blur, too. Just like mine. I thought we connected. I opened up to him about everything, about my parents, about Aiden, even about my fucking sex life! I thought we really, really connected. But now I see. It’s not how I thought it was at all.”

Caroline rolled her eyes and laughed. “Aalia, you’re eighteen! You’re acting like this guy is your soul mate.”

Aalia looked at her in confusion. That wasn’t the reaction she was expecting from her best friend. “No, I’m not.”

“You need to relax. This isn’t that big of a deal. He’s just another guy. If it doesn’t work, then move on to the next one.”

“I’m not like that. I don’t just jump from guy to guy.”

“Everyone does. That’s how dating works. Don’t you want to date him?”

Aalia’s nerves ignited at her words. “I don’t know…”

“Just go talk to him, Aalia.” She nodded her head toward the swarm.

“Yeah, right,” she said sarcastically, “And get trampled by those girls? I don’t even know what to say to him.”

“So overdramatic,” Caroline said under her breath as her head fell back on her seat.

“Let’s just go,” Aalia said bitterly.

Caroline reluctantly put the key in the ignition and left the parking lot.

Aalia didn’t even have the words to describe what was going on.

-----------------------------------------------------

She had to give them back eventually.

She stared at them, sighing. The glossy, glass-like plastic and the dark, shiny lenses looked duller and duller the longer she thought about what she would have to do soon. She couldn’t keep them even if she knew he had dozens of others. They had looked way more stylish on his face and in his hand, not sitting drearily on her hotel dresser.

Her phone began to vibrate from beside the sunglasses.

“Hello?” She almost hoped it was him.

“Hey. I’m out front.” Caroline’s voice was monotonous.

“Alright.” Aalia hung up and tucked her phone into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and holding the sunglasses in her hand.

She met Caroline outside and saw her step out of the car before Aalia reached it.

“You drive,” she said bleakly, sitting in the passenger’s seat.

Aalia looked puzzled, but she walked around the car and became the driver.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she put her seatbelt on. Caroline was leaning her head back in her seat. Aalia noticed she wasn’t wearing any makeup, a first for Caroline.

“I’m just not feeling too good today,” she answered dismally.

Aalia began driving, trying her best to remember the way.

“Morning sickness?” she guessed.

“Kind of,” said Caroline, “I wouldn’t know what that feels like.”

“Isn’t it just nausea? Throwing up and stuff?”

“I guess,” she said, “Whatever it is, it sucks big time.”

Aalia nodded, unsure of how to relate to Caroline with that. She knew nothing about pregnancies. Her mother hadn’t had any children after her. In fact, the whole idea of being pregnant was creepy to her.

Caroline was well enough to give her directions to the house, but half the time she got the turns mixed up and Aalia had to rely on her GPS on her phone to guide her. As soon as she saw the familiar driveway, she considered just turning around and going home.

As Aalia unbuckled her seatbelt and prepared to get out of the car, Caroline gently threw something on her lap.

“Here,” she said weakly, “You give it to him.”

Aalia looked down and saw the baseball cap sitting in her lap, the soft material brushing against her bare legs. Her anxiety was worsening by the second.

“Let’s go,” Caroline said as she opened her door and waited for Aalia, who joined her moments later with his sunglasses in one hand and cap in the other.

With every step Aalia took towards the house, she became tenser. Every time her foot met the pavement, her heart pounded against her chest. Why was she nervous? She knew him so well and yet she felt like he was a stranger once again.

She watched, disconnected, as Joe answered the door and Caroline practically fell into his arms, complaining about her condition. He smiled at Aalia, beckoning both of them to come inside in the air conditioning.

“Make yourself at home,” he said to her as Caroline threw herself on one of the plush sofas in what looked like the living room. “What’s wrong, baby?” He turned to Caroline, who laid her head on his lap.

“I feel like shit,” she said, rubbing her temples.

Aalia tried not to pay much attention to their conversation. She felt like an awkward third wheel. She stared down at the sunglasses and baseball cap, two ordinary items that she saw of colossal importance for some odd reason that she couldn’t comprehend.

“Aalia?”

She had to stop gaping down at her lap to come back to reality.

“Yeah?” she answered Joe.

“I never got to say thank you for coming to the pool party,” he said with a genuine smile, “So…thank you for coming!”

She tried to smile back.

“No, thank you for inviting me. It was fun.”

He laughed, smoothing down Caroline’s hair absentmindedly.

“I’m sure it must’ve been really weird for you,” he said.

She shrugged, sarcastically waving a hand. “I’m all about that celeb life, you know,” she joked.

He laughed louder that time. Caroline groaned, saying something about a headache, and he apologized. When he began speaking again, he whispered.

“He’s upstairs if you wanna give that stuff to him. The second door on the right.” He nodded toward the large staircase to their left.

She nodded, gulping and feeling the dryness of her throat. She eyed the staircase and it grew to a daunting size in her imagination. Caroline turned her head to face her and nodded, encouraging her to go. Aalia sighed before standing, gripping the sunglasses and cap hard between her sweaty fingers.

“We’ll be right here, Aalia,” Caroline assured her.

Aalia made her way slowly up the staircase, taking deep breaths the entire time. Upstairs was so big; she was surprised she could even find his room.

She stopped in front of an auburn door open just a crack and heard a guitar. It was an acoustic—she recognized it from when she was a child. Her mother had bought her one for her eleventh birthday, but she hadn’t touched it for months.

She was just about to knock when she heard him.

Singing.

“What day is it? And in what month? This clock never seemed so alive. I can’t keep up, and I can’t back down. I’ve been losing so much time.”

His voice was so smooth, like velvet or silk. She was immediately captivated, and she couldn’t find it in her to make him stop.

“’Cause it’s you and me, and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose. And it’s you and me, and all other people and I don’t know why. I can’t keep my eyes off of you.”

Suddenly, his guitar stopped. He strummed it randomly, as if he were frustrated. She caught a glimpse of him holding his head in his hands.

She knocked softly.

“Come in,” he breathed angrily.

Her body tensed as she gently pushed open the door and took a step inside, looking straight at him.

“Is lunch ready yet?” he asked. He hadn’t seen her.

She cleared her throat nervously. “I wouldn’t know,” she said.

His head whipped around to meet her gaze, dropping his guitar pick to the floor. It fell onto the beige carpeting, but he didn’t care.

“Aalia.” He was surprised. He quickly got to his feet. “I thought you were Kevin. Or my mom.”

“I came to bring your stuff back.” She handed the sunglasses and baseball cap to him.

“Oh,” he said, “Thanks.”

He reached for them, and the moment his hands briefly touched hers, they both lingered for a few seconds too long.

“No problem.” She slowly took her hand back.

Silence took over as he looked her in the eye, and strangely she couldn’t look away. That kind of silence with anybody else would’ve been awkward, but surprisingly, not with him.

The color of her eyes—hazel but with little hints of green—captivated him. It almost hurt to look away from them, but he did.

“Please sit down,” he said, remembering to be a courteous host. He gave up his own computer chair and moved aside.

She sat down, taking in his bedroom. Its scale was large but not too large. Fancy but not too fancy. He had a large bed with grey bed sheets and covers, a desk with a white Macbook, and a collection of musical instruments in a corner.

He took a seat on the edge of the bed and carefully avoided her gaze.

“Look,” she began when the silence became too drawn out, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I don’t—"

“You don’t need to apologize,” he interrupted her. He freed himself from his thick guitar strap and gently placed the instrument behind him. “It’s okay. Really.”

“No, please hear me out,” she said. She looked down at her hands the entire time she spoke. She felt awkward enough. “I guess I was just freaked, you know? Having Caroline with Joe was a big enough shock for me. I’m still working on getting used to that. Then this happened,” she paused, using her hand to signal the two of them, “And it’s a lot to take in.”

He nodded. “I get it,” he told her, “I probably should’ve done it in a better way. It’s my fault.”

“I think no matter what way you did it, I’d still be this shocked.”

He laughed with her and she was reminded of how much she loved the sound.

“By the way,” she said, smirking, “I like Lifehouse, too.”

The apples of his cheeks turned a faint pinkish color and he raised his eyebrows when he smiled, clearly embarrassed. She thought it was cute.

“You heard that,” he stated, looking down at his Chuck Taylor sneakers. She didn’t ignore the fact that they matched her own.

“It sounded good.”

“Thanks,” he laughed, “Sometimes I just sing random songs,” he told her, looking into her eyes again. He couldn’t help it. “But you already knew that.”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she said, “I did.”

She looked at him for a little too long, trying not to be enthralled by the imperfectly perfect bed of thick curls on his head and the unfamiliar sparkle in his eyes. She was reminded of that dream she’d had about her new Mystery Boy and that same warm feeling that had emerged inside her.

But she quickly returned to her senses after noticing the tiny smirk appearing on his face.

“But what I didn’t know,” she said, eager for a subject change, “was that you had a Gibson.”

His eyes fell on the guitar she nodded towards and he pulled it onto his lap.

“Oh, yeah.” His voice was casual. “This one’s my favorite.”

“I know,” she laughed, “Back home, I have—"

“An Epiphone,” he finished for her, “I remember.”

She nodded. “Yeah, yours is probably much better though.”

He smiled.

“You wanna try it out?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. I haven’t played in months.”

“You’re just being modest. Come.”

He scooted over, making room for her beside him.

She shook her head shyly.

“Come on,” he encouraged, patting the bed.

She groaned.

She took a seat next to him and he gingerly handed her the guitar. She marveled over the smoothness of the wood body and the fine tuning of the strings. She strummed one and felt the vibrations take her back to the last time she’d played.

It had been in front of Aiden.

She knew that by thinking about him, she was messing in scary memories. She remembered how he’d asked her to play him a song—any song—as long as he could hear her voice. She sang to him for hours. She desperately wanted to please him in every way, and when she’d finished, he’d told her how much he loved her and how he was going to marry her someday.
She’d been quick to believe him.

But the next day was when she’d found out about Amy. That next day was when everything had fallen apart, and she hadn’t played guitar since.

She was unaware of Nick’s eyes on her while she strummed different chords, pleasantly surprised that she actually remembered them. He couldn’t help but stare at the fullness of her lips and the length of her long brown hair. He couldn’t understand how her body could look so strong and toned yet so delicate and elegant. The way she held his guitar amazed him. He was sure he couldn’t make guitar playing look that sensual even if he tried.

But his gaze lingered the longest on his favorite part—those eyes. He saw uncertainty and pain in them as she played, and he knew why. He knew all about Aiden. All about how she’d give up on music because of him.

He watched as a tear escaped one of those eyes.

Her fingers stopped strumming and she covered her eyes with her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“Don’t stop.” His voice was gentle. He took both of her hands in his.

“I can’t,” she said as more tears pooled in her eyes, “I can’t do this.”

She felt embarrassed and self-conscious crying in front of him. She let Aiden ruin everything again. She let him take away her dream. He was the reason she was so hesitant and scared of every chance she took.

“Put how you feel into the music,” he said, placing one of her hands on the fingerboard and the other by the sound hole, “Channel those emotions.”

She tried to listen to him and listen to her emotions. She began strumming the tune he’d been playing earlier despite being unsure of how it exactly went.

When her fingers failed her, he placed his hand over hers to guide her.

“First, G,” he said, showing her the chords. He moved their fingers as she strummed. “Then, C…”

He moved closer to her, her shoulder touching his. She sneaked a glance at his concentrated face. She’d never thought it about any guy before, not even Aiden, but Nick was beautiful.

She felt something strange inside her telling her to pick up where he’d left off.

“All of the things,” she sang quietly, slowly at first, “that I wanna say just aren’t coming out right. I’m tripping on words. You got my head spinning. I don’t know where to go from here.”
Her voice broke on the last lyric as she remembered.

”Your voice is beautiful, Aalia,” Aiden had always told her.

She couldn’t sing anymore. She couldn’t do anything anymore because of him.

But Nick wasn’t having that. He picked it up for her when she couldn’t.

“’Cause it’s you and me,” he sang, still guiding her fingers slowly across the strings, “And all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to prove.”

He got a chord wrong, letting out a tiny “oops” and making her laugh. He chuckled too, missing the rest of the chorus.

“And it’s you and me,” she continued for him, “And I don’t know why I can’t keep my eyes off of you.”

His chuckling died down and they sang simultaneously.

“Something about you now I can’t quite figure out.”

Their mixed voices sounded like nothing he’d heard before. He was hypnotized by her, by her voice, and by his voice united with hers.

She stopped strumming, not wanting to sing the next part out of uneasiness. But he went on without the music, his left hand still on hers.

“Everything she does is beautiful,” he sang alone, staring at her, “Everything she does it right.”

He looked into her eyes with every lyric, every note, and every last syllable. Somewhere in it all, she got lost. She wasn’t in Los Angeles anymore. She wasn’t sitting in the Jonas house. Caroline wasn’t downstairs. He wasn’t a celebrity or a millionaire or a musician.

He was just the Mystery Boy.

Her Mystery Boy.

His body seemed to be moving by itself and he lost control. He followed his instinct. His mind screamed no, but his heart wanted it and needed it and desired it stronger than anything he’d ever wanted in his life. More than a Grammy, more than a gold record, more than anything.

He leaned in, terrified. He stopped right before he got too close, just inches from her face. He looked into her eyes still but snuck glances down to her lips.

“Your voice is beautiful, Aalia,” he said.

Those words. Those words.

For her, the seconds turned to confusion amidst her spinning thoughts.

She felt submerged by his cologne. Those words. With Aiden, those words were too rehearsed. Too sexual. Too demanding.

But with Nick, everything was soft and genuine and promising.

How could she have gone from sipping lemonade on her back porch in Arizona to all of that?

How could any of that actually happen?

But more importantly, why wasn’t she just letting it all happen? Wasn’t this what she wanted? A life? Something to fight for? Something to live for? Why was she constantly thinking and constantly confused about how she really felt?

Aiden.

She backed away from him, her eyes wide with thought.

He looked at her apologetically, realizing what he’d done. Or almost done. “I’m sorry.”

A space was left between them that he so desperately wanted to close.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I should go,” she said softly.

“No, please stay,” he pleaded.

He tried to avoid her eyes, afraid he would all under her beautifully hypnotic spell again.

“Let’s just pretend it never happened,” she suggested, setting the guitar aside and placing the pick in his hand.

Everything was moving too fast.

She stood and he stood with her.

“When can I see you again?” he asked.

“I’ll call you.”

And she walked out of the door.