Alex Gaskarth Must Die

Hands. And arms and a neck and something on top of me and it’s really, really hot. Nice, hot, though, like a summer day by the beach, not a sweltering, sweaty kind of hot. Soft fabric and soft skin and- ‘Holy shit! Rebecca?!’ I leap back immediately and stare at Alex, who’s apparently in my bed with me. And not just in my bed, in my bed with his legs tangled in mine and our arms around each other.

‘Alex?! What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Me? What the hell are you doing in my bed?’

‘Your bed? It’s-’ Wait. I sit up and pull my knees up, squinting at the striped sheets in front of me as yesterday comes back. ‘Oh. Right.’

‘Um,’ Alex says, shaking his head. I look over at him, grimacing a little at his obvious hangover as he frowns. ‘Wait one minute,’ he says, and bolts out to the bathroom.

Hm. I close my eyes and press my hands to my face, turning my face away from the side of the bed where Alex was. So. Last night. I helped Alex out of his clothes and into his bed and then I followed him into his bed. It sounds ridiculous when I say it like that, but it’s the facts. God, is Brittany going to have a field day when she hears about this. I can’t help but stifle a laugh, imagining the expression she’ll have on her face when I tell her.

‘Done throwing up?’ I ask as Alex stumbles back into his room. He nods and gulps down half the water bottle, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand after. I wrinkle my nose as he comes over and flops back onto his side of the bed, pulling on a shirt whilst lying down.

‘Okay,’ he says, and then props his head up on his elbow to face me. ‘I’m hungover as hell but sober, and I have no idea what happened last night and why you’re in my bed.’ He pauses, and then adds, ‘And why you’re wearing my clothes. An explanation would be good.’

I nod, and start explaining the story of last night to him. From the puke (‘Oh, fuck, did I really do that? I’m so sorry. Like, really, really sorry.’), my thong and him looking up my dress (‘Damn, if there were one thing to remember…’ and then I hit him.), driving him home (‘How do you know where I live?’), helping him out of his clothes (‘Scratch that. Maybe I want to remember this.’ And then I hit him again.), stealing his clothes (‘They fit you depressingly well.’ ‘Yeah, well, that’s what you get for having no muscle,’ and then he hit me.), and finally, his mom popping in.

‘So, then you just decided to… stay in my bed?’

‘Pretty much,’ I nod. ‘I mean, I wasn’t going to wait around and then sneak out, because it’s not like I have any way to get home.’

‘Alright.’ He nods and looks up at me, his eyes widening ever so slightly. ‘I am sorry about the whole throwing up thing, you know.’

‘I know, Alex.’ I smile down at him and ruffle his already messy hair, laughing when he yells in protest and flattens it down again. ‘Well,’ I say, throwing off the covers and getting out of his bed, ‘I think I’ve outstayed my welcome, so I’m gonna go before your parents wake up.’ The red alarm clock on his table reads 9:13, which isn’t that late or that early, but his parents are probably going to get up soon if they’re not already up.

‘No, stay!’ He gets up quickly and throws out a hand to keep me, but winces quickly and rubs his head. ‘Ow.’ I laugh and he shoots a glare at me, before remembering what he was trying to convince me to do. ‘You have to stay! After everything you did last night for me, I’ve got to pay you back.’ I look at him, turning it over in my head, as he pulls out the puppy-dog eyes. ‘Please?’ Just as I’m opening my mouth to protest, the doorbell rings and Alex dashes off, groaning and pressing a hand to his forehead as he goes. ‘Wait there!’ he yells up at me.

And wait I do, sitting idly in his room with no underwear as I hear some faint sounds come from below. ‘All clear!’ Alex yells. ‘It’s only Jack and the guys, come down!’ I stop in my tracks, unsure of what to do then. I’m so, so bad with new people, but Jack’s down there, I already sort of know Rian, and Zack’s quiet like me, so it can’t be that bad. And I can leave if I want to, I tell myself. Just go down, and after ten minutes, you can leave if you don’t like it.

When I get down, Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack are sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen, each nursing a (very) stale bagel and a glass of water. The bottle of Advil sits in the middle. ‘Hey, Becca!’ Jack says happily, surprised as I wave at him and pull up a stool to sit between him and Alex.

‘Hey, guys.’

Zack, the guy I met last night, shakes his dyed black hair out of his eyes. ‘Sorry, I was, like, completely hammered last night, so I don’t think we really met properly. I’m Zack.’ He extends a hand (a limp hand, because of his hangover, but a hand nonetheless) and I shake it.

‘Rebecca. And you play bass in the band.’

‘Yep,’ he nods. ‘I go to school in Towson, so that’s why you never see me around Dulaney.’

‘They tried convincing him to switch,’ Rian chuckles. I smile with him; it was something I could easily imagine Jack and Alex doing, running after this kid and pleading with him to join their band and their school.

‘You made the right choice staying in Towson,’ I say.

‘What?’ Jack yelps, and promptly claps a hand to his head and winces. ‘Dulaney’s awesome!’

‘If by ‘awesome’, you mean, ‘the place where we get to see Alex here fall out of a closet with a naked girl’, then sure, it’s awesome.’ We all laugh until the boys groan and complain, again, about their hangovers. The eighth time our conversation halts to a stop because of this, I roll my eyes and stand up to open the fridge.

‘Jesus, guys,’ I say, scanning the shelves. ‘Haven’t you learned by now to eat some eggs or something after binge-drinking?’

‘We’ve got bagels,’ Zack says, holding his (untouched) bagel up a little defiantly, but really more half-heartedly. I notice that none of the others have touched their bagels either.

‘Yeah,’ I scoff, ‘but they look as hard as rock.’ Zack quiets down after that. After asking Alex if he’s okay with me using his family’s pots and pans, I inquire as to each of their food preferences and set about the kitchen as they make mindless chatter in the background. I blame parents with too much work and too little time; a teenage brother and his teenage friends who, by definition, eat 24/7; a sister who scours Vogue magazine for low-carb foods and begs me to make them; and half of my family being French for my cooking abilities. I’m not an aspiring chef or even someone who can claim cooking as a hobby, but I am pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. I can follow the whole song-and-dance and I guess I like it, but not like my grandparents and aunts, who present every dish like it’s the Mona Lisa and who can tell the difference between over three hundred types of cheese. I just do it to help out around the house. My mom cooks steak and spaghetti, the classics; my dad helps out with the chopping and such; and every once in a while, I try something weird like bouillabaisse just to freak Dustin out. As I walk around the kitchen, clattering about and huffing when the damned stove won’t switch on, the boys look at me with weird expressions, a little amused, a little dead with their hangovers, and a little something else. But soon enough I’ve got plates lined up for them, tailor made, and they shut up with wide eyes.

‘Wow,’ Alex says, staring down at his plate of meatballs in tomato sauce, toast with butter and bacon, and Heinz baked beans. Rian’s plate is filled with plain spaghetti and stir-fry that’s practically swimming in soy sauce and olive oil; Jack’s is pancakes with Nutella, whipped cream, strawberries, blueberries, and bacon; and Zack’s is mashed potato with bacon and an obscene amount of ketchup. I smirk, happy to have gotten their tastes perfectly down into one plate as they stare in amazement.

‘Wow,’ Jack agrees. ‘How come you never told me you could cook?’

I shrug and smile as I sit back down, happily watching them take cautious first bites and then smile and start eating at a regular pace. ‘Never came up.’

‘Well, you should’ve made it come up,’ Jack says through a full mouth.

‘This is seriously the best stir-fry I have ever tasted in my life,’ Rian adds.

‘Aw, thanks.’

‘If I’d known you were at Dulaney, I’d have actually switched schools,’ Zack says. He scoops some ketchup onto his fork and eats it in one, making me look at him weirdly. He catches me staring and grins as I wrinkle my nose.

‘Nice to know a girl you’ve known for an hour has more pull than your best friends,’ Alex scoffs, making a mock-offended face.

Zack shrugs. ‘Sorry, bro.’

‘Well, I’m friends with you now, so just call me up anytime you want some food,’ I laugh. I pause and look cautiously around at the dangerously silent boys before deciding that, wait, that might not be the best thing to say. ‘Wait-‘

‘No take backs!’ Jack yells immediately.

‘Can we save your number as ‘Magical Cook-slash-Hangover Curer’? Rian laughs.

‘Oh, do you do catering? Rian’s got a birthday coming up,’ Alex adds.

‘We’re going for classy, this time,’ Zack says.

‘Instead of drunken sex and puke everywhere?’ I laugh.

‘Yeah, he’s getting laid on, like, a regular basis,’ Jack says with a shrug. ‘So it’s just gonna be a few friends.’

‘Speaking of, you should totally come!’ I blink at Rian stupidly. Me? Come to his birthday party? Don’t get me wrong, Rian was the nicest guy ever and so was his girlfriend, but I really don’t know him that well. Certainly not well enough to go to his birthday party, in any case.

‘No, I couldn’t,’ I say hurriedly. ‘We just met, I wouldn’t want to intrude.’

‘Well, we want you to intrude,’ Rian insists. ‘Come on, it’ll be fun.’

‘Yeah, you’re like, Jack’s best friend already,’ Alex says. ‘You know Kara and the girls, and you know us and the guys! It’ll be great.’

‘Definitely,’ Rian says. ‘Come!’

‘I’ll think about it,’ I relent. ‘Text me the time and date and I’ll see if I can.’ Or if I even want to, I add mentally.

‘To do that, we’ll need your number,’ Alex says, winking and sliding me his phone.

‘Smooth and subtle,’ I laugh. ‘Smooth and subtle.’

‘That’s just how we roll.’ He grins, but his face falls quickly when he realizes his plate is empty. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll-’

‘Yeah, no, no more food from me.’ The boys let out a chorus of groans, but follow by sliding all their phones in front of me. I laugh and shake my head, and then save myself as a contact on each of their phones before giving Alex mine.

‘And now, I’m going to subtly and smoothly get your numbers.’

‘I hope you know I’ll be calling you, like, every day to make me food,’ Jack laughs, passing the phone over from Alex to Zack. He’s already got my number, seeing as we’re pretty good friends by now, and honestly, we call each other almost every day. It’s kind of like mindless texting, where you text someone just because you’re bored and you end up having a completely useless conversation, but Jack and I usually end up going on for at least thirty minutes, saying whatever the hell comes to mind and singing.

‘What, more than you normally do?’ I say, grinning when he makes an offended face.

‘Oh, snap!’ Alex raises his hand for a high five and I oblige, all of us laughing and the four boys forgetting their hangovers. We go on like that for a while, jokes and easy conversation, before I can’t ignore the weird feeling of not having any underwear on any longer.

‘Okay,’ I say, bracing myself for the awkwardness that’s sure to come, ‘this is going to sound really weird since we just met, but I’m not wearing any underwear.’

‘Alex!’ Jack yells, scandalized. ‘Dude!’

Zack hits Alex’s shoulder. ‘You told us you didn’t do anything with her last night!’

‘I didn’t, I didn’t, I swear to God!’ He ducks and raises his hands defensively.

‘We didn’t,’ I confirm, rolling my eyes at their dramatics. ‘I was just, uh, I was, uh-’ I look at their faces, awaiting my explanation, and decide not to go for it. No, I snort mentally, no way am I telling four teenage boys I was wearing a red lace thong. ‘I just took it off and it feels really weird and I need to go get some underwear,’ I say quickly. ‘Like, now.’

The boys stare at me for a minute before bursting into laughter, which just makes me blush even more. ‘Shut up,’ I whine, stacking up their dishes and turning to the sink so they can’t see my face.

‘Come on,’ Alex says through his laughs, ‘let’s go to the mall. It’ll be me-’

‘And me!’ Jack pipes up.

‘And us,’ Zack adds, motioning towards Rian and him.

‘All of us,’ Alex amends, ‘paying you back for being the best Hangover Curer ever.’

‘Good enough for me,’ I laugh. ‘Now let’s go get me some underwear.’

- - -

From Robin B. to Rebecca H. on 12/19/05
hey, where are you?

Robin B. to Rebecca H.
seriously, where the hell are you??

Zoe G. to Rebecca H.
rebecca? where are you? we’re really worried.

Brittany L. to Rebecca H.
i really hope you’re crashing with ashley or something- bmore is scary this time of night

Brittany L. to Rebecca H.
where are you???? call us asap, k?