Alex Gaskarth Must Die

‘Are you ready?’ Jack asks.

‘Yes!’ I insist. I laugh from behind the hands over my eyes and keep walking, my arms thrust out in front to make sure I don’t accidentally walk into a wall.

‘Alright,’ he says. ‘Keep your eyes closed, I have to open the door.’ His hands come off my eyes, but I keep them scrunched closed and hear the door click open. ‘Okay - Ready?’

‘Show me what you’ve got, Barakat,’ I laugh. He huffs a little and I can hear everyone else in the room laughing in the background. He shushes them quickly and then breathes deeply behind me.

‘Ready?’ I nod and feel his hands come off my eyes. ‘Keep those eyes closed - wait one second - alright - open!’

I do, blinking to adjust to the dim light and immediately burst out laughing at the familiar sight of Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack with their instruments slung over their shoulders and looking at me with a sort of hopeful anticipation.

‘Jesus Christ, are you kidding me? Are you seriously fucking laughing?’ Jack groans in disbelief.

‘I’m sorry!’ I say quickly. ‘I just - You guys look so normal and you’re so nervous and I have no idea why.’

Alex rolls his eyes at me but there’s something in them that makes me step forward with a more serious expression too. I sling my arms around his waist and lean in, ignoring - trying to, at least - everyone else in the room as I brush a kiss across his lips. ‘Hey,’ I say, ‘I’m sorry. You guys are gonna be great, I’ve no idea why you’re so worried.’ He still looks kind of annoyed and I’ve never really been good at getting the words for apologies out, so I shut up and settle for giving him another squeeze and a deeper kiss.

Matt wolf-whistles as he pulls away and I immediately turn red, mumbling ‘Shuddup’ as Kara tugs me towards the sofa. I collapse down next to her and Danny, bringing my legs up and tucking them underneath me as Evan throws over a packet of gummy bears to us.

‘Alright,’ Alex says into his microphone, wincing afterwards as a brief screech of feedback follows it. ‘So, uh, you guys -’ he motions to the seven or so other people littered around the room a little nervously ‘- know the drill and you guys are just here to fuck around anyways, you don’t really care about us.’

‘We’re here for the beer,’ Danny says, grinning and raising his in a mock toast.

‘Cheers, mate,’ Alex says sarcastically, a brief flash of him-normally before he goes back to him-nervously. ‘But, uh, Rebecca, um, we’re, uh-’

Jack jumps in to save him. ‘We just play for about two hours or so. Some of these are gonna be covers, some are gonna be originals.’ He waggles his eyebrows and I laugh, nodding along and thinking how excited I am to finally hear this music. Don’t get me wrong, All Time Low are pretty well-known for a local, four-teenage-boys-in-high-school affair and the newsletters the record store downtown sends always have some kind of promo for a show they’re playing, but I guess I just haven’t really gotten around to listening to them. I mean, they have to be kind of overrated, right? It sounds bad, but surely they can’t be that good. I’ve always thought they just kind of coasted along happily, a kind of hobby riding on their popularity. Half of me is hoping this is true; I’m not sure I could handle the boys being good musicians on top of everything else.

‘So, uh, we’re just gonna start…’ Alex says. He looks at me briefly before fixing his eyes on the floor and I grin as I recognize the opening chords.

‘Why’re you smiling so hard?’ Danny asks quietly.

‘This is my favourite Blink-182 song,’ I explain, my grin getting even wider as they reach the chorus, my finger tapping along to the familiar beat on my leg. ‘God, how does he even know it’s my favourite Blink song?’ I mutter under my breath, sure we’d never talked about it before.

Even though I say it more to myself than Danny, he shrugs and tries to hide his smile. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘they don’t really show just anyone their music. They were really nervous before.’

I give him a look. ‘They have, like, actual shows at places. That’s not “showing just anyone their music?”’

‘No, no!’ Danny says. He purses his lips as he tries to explain. ‘They’re - strangers - so it’s, like, kind of detached? You’re not so you matter.’ His mouth is still open but he looks like he can’t decide what else to say so he closes it, frowning at me. ‘D’you get it?’

‘I think so?’

He laughs, an exasperated sound, and flicks my forehead before we both turn back. They’ve finished Reckless Abandon now and are laughing at something Jack did. ‘Alright,’ Alex says, looking more confident and relaxed than before, ‘this next one is an original.’ We all cheer and he laughs a little nervously as his hands run up and down his guitar neck. I look at Kara questioningly and she whispers, ‘Coffee Shop Soundtrack’, in reply. I nod and burrow down further, my gaze drifting from Alex to Jack to Zack to Rian and back again, cataloguing how each of them play.

Band practice lasts for two hours like this, with a break in between; just the four of them playing and the rest of us hanging around, having quiet conversations or doing homework with the comforting lull of familiar music in the background. Every time the boys (I can’t call them All Time Low yet. It just sounds weird and to me, they’re not All Time Low; they’re Alex, Jack, Zack, and Rian.) start an original song, Kara whispers the name of it and sometimes Danny chimes in with some trivia. They’re - Well - They’re good. Really good. They remind me a lot of New Found Glory and Blink-182 which would make sense, of course, considering those are almost unanimously our little group of friends’ favourite bands. Alex’s voice is a bit rough, a little raspy, just hovering between that edge of teenage boy and man and alright, yeah, I can see what Lauren meant when she said he still had to grow into his voice a bit. That’s not saying he’s not a good singer though; he is. He really, really is.

For the first half hour I try to listen properly to the music, to keep my eyes locked on Alex’s (even if he determinedly stares at a point on the garage wall) and decipher the lyrics, but eventually I end up curled against Danny’s side with my eyes closed, letting the sounds wash over me in a pleasant wave of sound with not too much effort involved. At one point Alex clears his throat and I open my eyes blearily, but he shakes his head with a quick smile and carries on. The four of them seem to really love this and something lodges uncomfortably in my throat when it all ends.

‘So?’ Jack says expectantly as he unplugs his guitar. ‘What’d you think?’

‘Please don’t laugh,’ Alex calls from across the room where he’s grabbing a Vitamin Water. ‘I don’t think I can take anymore ridicule from girlfriends.’

I laugh and shake my head, walking over and leaning against him. ‘No…’ I say slowly. ‘You guys were good. Really good.’

Alex grins down at me as he hugs me tightly. ‘Thanks,’ he says softly and then louder, so the whole room can hear: ‘She likes us!’

Everyone laughs, but I can tell they’re all genuinely happy that I like the band. There’s that uncomfortable feeling in my chest again, a welling of emotion that I’m not sure I want to examine deeper. I swallow and lean further into Alex’s side, pushing it aside and smiling instead. ‘Does this mean I’m your groupie now?’

‘Only if your shorts get shorter, your tank-tops get lower, and you get a boob job,’ he says magnanimously.

‘It’s a deal,’ I say seriously and hold out my can of Red Bull. He clinks his Vitamin Water with it seriously before grinning and pulling me into a kiss.

‘God, you’re great,’ Alex mumbles into it, his hands running up and down my sides as he pushes our drinks out of the way. Someone whoops in the background but then there’s a thumping sound followed by a ‘Fuck, that hurt!’ and the door clicking shut, footsteps going out, and then we’re alone.

We end up on the couch somehow, his elbows propped up on either side of my head, our legs tangled together, our mouths a slow slide against each other. His hand inches up my shirt, palming my sides and I groan into the kiss. ‘Hey,’ he whispers, and it takes me a while to realise that he’s not responding as enthusiastically as a few seconds ago.

‘Yeah?’ I whisper back, opening my eyes slowly to find him staring at me steadily.

‘Should we - Should we be -’ he starts and stops again and then laughs, ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

‘I’m not looking at you like that!’ I say, laughing back, my hands raising from his hips - and whoa, okay, um, how did that happen, whatever, I guess - to surrender.

‘You’re smiling,’ he accuses, his own smiles making their way up and down my neck before he returns to stare me down again. ‘But, um, should we - you know - be doing - uh - this?’

‘And what--’ I kiss him ‘--exactly--’ another kiss ‘--are--’ another one ‘--we--’ one last one ‘--doing?’ I look up expectantly at him and he groans and flops down on top of me, a dead weight. I yelp quickly and try to shove him off; he groans and rolls over, pushing me so that we’re both squished on the couch staring up at the ceiling together.

‘So,’ he says.

‘So,’ I echo.

‘You’re enjoying this,’ he accuses.

‘Am I?’ I ask innocently.

‘You suck.’

‘And what, exactly, do I suck?’

Alex groans and turns over, pushing his face into the couch pillows as he mumbles to himself. I turn onto my side to get a better look and smirk at his messy hair. ‘I’m not sure what I did to deserve you as a girlfriend,’ he says finally when he resurfaces.

‘Obviously something pretty great.’

He smiles and leans in closer. ‘Obviously.’

I lean in closer until our noses are almost touching. ‘Maybe I did too.’

‘Yeah?’ he whispers.

‘Yeah,’ I say softly back, watching a slow smile stretch across his face. ‘But to answer your question from before,’ I say just as quietly, ‘no, we are not doing ‘that’. But we can make out for ten minutes before grabbing dinner.’

Alex groans dramatically and scrunches his face up. ‘You are the worst,’ he says. ‘Flowers and pearls and chocolates are going to be lost completely on you, aren’t they?’

I make a humming sound. ‘They’d be nice to photograph,’ I say.

He barks out a laugh and moves in, his hand going to my hip again. ‘I’ll make a romantic out of you one day,’ he promises. I hum into his mouth because there’s nothing else to do and ignore the weird pushing sensation in my throat, like the words We need to break up, this isn’t real, it's not working are just waiting to break out.

We make out for half an hour and then go up to join everyone else, and Rian’s parents come home an hour later to find their kitchen full of teenagers and their son and his best friend Jack yelling obscenities over the frying pan while they try (and fail) to make pancakes.

- - -

I cancel on any plans with the girls for the next week, citing my brother’s soccer tournament and my homework, but really just needing to do my homework (which I’ve been slacking on on account of the whole, uh, boyfriend-but-not-really thing) and figure out what to tell the girls. Robin leaves me a voice mail message which mostly consists of her starting to speak and stopping again for three minutes, and then a very heavy, exasperated sigh which manages to convey, I am really disappointed in you, young grasshopper and Are you sure you are okay with what you are doing and I’m still waiting for you to give me the sweatshirt you borrowed from me in November back all at once.

Every day I practically sprint out of school, not coming into contact with anyone except to kiss Alex bye and maybe talk to Jack and Kara a little. I do all my homework and cook dinner, but I really have no other extracurriculars going so I can’t do anything but clean the house and fiddle around with my camera. It’s not, you know, bad or anything. I just end up lying on my bed staring at the ceiling a lot, thinking. Thinking’s not good. Thinking is not fun. At all.

On Saturday, Alex and I go out for what we’ve started as our weekly brunch at the Greek restaurant we had our first date at. I stick to my original spaghetti and salad combo, but Alex moves methodically down the menu, ordering something new every time. Most times he ends up hating it and we switch; I end up always loving it.

I stay inside for the rest of the weekend with Photoshop and Thai delivery.

- - -

On Monday, Alex comes up to my locker in the morning as usual.

‘Hey,’ he says.

‘Hi,’ I reply.

‘Uh,’ he says, and I look up from my books quickly to raise my eyebrows. ‘Um.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Is - Is something wrong?’ he asks, hesitant, like he’s forcing the words out. I look up again but I find his face painfully earnest.

‘No,’ I say. ‘No. I’m - I’m fine.’ I laugh a little, a lump rising in my throat, ‘I’m just - Stressed, is all.’ I pause for a while, casting around for a plausible explanation. ‘I hear back from Pratt in, like, three weeks,’ I say. We’ve had enough conversations about the future for him to know that the Pratt Institute in New York City is pretty much my dream college, just in terms of staying close to my family and still sort of far. (There’s also the fact that Robin’s got her sights set on Georgetown which is only about an hour’s train ride away.) That’s another thing I’ve been doing cooped up in my room, actually; researching New York City. I don’t even know if I’m in yet and I know better to hope, but I can’t help going from Wikipedia to Yelp and back again just looking at bands that are playing or local diners. It’s like window-shopping for cities.

‘You’ll get in for sure,’ he says with a smile. I snort and shove my math textbook in my bag. ‘You will!’ he insists. ‘And hey, I don’t like it when you’re unhappy. Makes me unhappy.’ He mumbles the last part quietly and the weird, uncomfortable feeling inside me multiplies. I drop my backpack on the floor and pull him in for a kiss, murmuring a thank you and a you’re great into it. He’s been talking about the future too, I think, remembering the tapes the boys have been sending out to record labels. It sets a chord of worry in my head, knowing that they’re all going to apply to one or two colleges and are relying fully on their band for the future. Their band. I know that I’m not really one to be talking seeing as I want to be a photographer for a living, but I’d be happy just doing little things somewhere, maybe even getting a second degree in something useful so photography would just be a hobby again. Just as long as I could survive reasonably well off the money. The boys, though... They want to be a proper band, lights and cables and tours and buses and everything, for life. I want to believe they’ll make it, that they have the talent to become something, but the truth is I’m not sure they can. I know I love them and that other people love them too, but what’s a group of maybe a hundred people compared to the millions of other acts that might sound better, look better, market better?

I pull back from the kiss to lean against his forehead, my eyes still closed.

‘You happy now?’ he says quietly.

‘Better,’ I say and he smiles in reply.

‘Good.’

‘How’re you doing?’ I ask.

He exhales in a puff of breath and leans against the row of lockers. ‘We haven’t heard back from any record labels yet.’

‘Didn’t -’

‘Yeah, but that was like a “Sorry, we don’t really want you but you sound sort of nice.” type deal,’ he laughs.

‘Oh. Well. You’ll get one, for sure,’ I say, hoping he doesn’t call me out on my lie.

He doesn’t, or maybe he doesn’t hear the lie at all because all he does is grin and kiss me again.

- - -

The thing is, if I don’t give the girls a certain amount of attention, they get clingy. Not, like, girlfriend to her boyfriend “Oh my god, were you looking at that waitress? I saw you looking at that waitress.” type clingy, but just a little bit…

‘Have you been avoiding us?’ Brittany asks, cornering me at my locker at the end of school the next Monday.

‘No,’ I answer smoothly, even though, uh, yeah, I totally have.

‘Why have you been avoiding us?’ Zoe asks, ignoring my answer.

‘I haven’t,’ I snap, pushing my locker closed. I look up to see Brittany and Zoe, each with worried expressions on their face and oh damn, now I feel kind of guilty. Nope, no, no, no guilt allowed here, I tell myself firmly, and repeat myself, but softer this time.

‘Are you sure?’ Brittany asks, unperturbed by my short answer.

‘Yes.’ When I don’t say anything more, preferring instead to look down at my phone and reply to a text message from Alex, she sighs and says:

‘So what are your Valentine’s day plans?’

‘We’re going out for dinner. Standard thing. Nothing special.’

‘Alright.’ Brittany nods.’ There’s another tense, awkward silence and just as I’m about to make some half-hearted bullshit excuse and run off, Brittany leans in and puts her hand on my elbow. ‘Listen, okay? We’re not - we’re not trying to be the bad guys here. We want to be your friends.’

‘We are your friends,’ Zoe says, her eyes doing that ridiculous puppy dog thing that belongs back in orphanages and, like, actual puppies.

‘Just - Please show up this Wednesday? We haven’t seen each other, all five of us, in a while.’ I open my mouth to decline, but she goes on. ‘We don’t even have to talk about Alex or them if you don’t want. We just miss you, okay?’ I step back and look at the two of them warily, trying to gauge if they’re lying or not. Hm. I can’t detect anything obviously malicious but I mean…

‘Sure,’ I say, and fuck god shit, why the hell did I say that.

‘Seriously?’ Zoe says.

‘Yeah,’ I nod, trying to keep the wince out of my tone. ‘I miss you guys too,’ I add gratuitously.

Brittany beams at me. ‘We’ll see you then, then,’ and then they hug me and wave and turn and are immediately enveloped by two lacross players looking for a last-minute Valentine’s date for tomorrow.

- - -

As soon as school ends the next day, there’s a mad dash out. Everyone who’s currently in a relationship needs to get ready for their date and everyone who isn’t needs to get ready for the party tonight, which only singles are invited to. Robin and Jack wink and yell ‘Get some!’ across the parking lot to me; ‘You guys are the worst!’ I yell back. ‘Have fun at your singles-only party!’ I close my car door before either of them reply, and when I drive by the sidewalk where they’re still talking, they flip me off and wave with smiles on their faces.

Alex and I’s plan for tonight is just a date at the Greek restaurant by the pier and then a movie at Jack’s house on the couch because his parents are out tonight. Lately my parents have started shooting me looks over the dinner table - almost worried - like how now that I have a boyfriend, they’re assured that I’m actually kind of desirable to people so if I want to get involved in any kind of, uh, sexual business or general debauchery, I’ll have a winning partner. Knowing them, I’ll end up having to go through a really painful ‘What Sex Leads To (STDs, Pregnancy, and Unhappiness)’ talk. Possibly even with some videos from the elementary school Mom teaches at. Jesus.

But when I show up at seven o’clock sharp to our restaurant, teetering on the ridiculous heels Brittany insisted I should wear with my jeans, I can’t see Alex anywhere. I spend a good forty minutes looking for him amongst the crowded tables before I finally give up. There’s a low, sinking feeling in my gut, like a rope stretched tight for the past month has finally snapped, and I can only hope to god Alex hasn’t found out. I don’t - can’t - want to think about what would happen if he knew, so I settle for calling him, Jack, Rian, Zack, and Danny obsessively until the waiters and waitresses all give me sad, pitying looks as they ask me to wait outside because no one seems to be coming anytime soon.

After seventeen ‘Hi, this is Alex, I’m probably out right now having more fun than I’d be if I were talking to you (Asshole, somebody says in the background and he laughs), so leave me a message and I’ll call you back soon’ s, Alex texts me: come to the hospital jack is in the er xx, and my heart almost soars in relief. Immediately after, I feel like shit because, I mean, what if Jack has died or something, so I run all the red lights on my way to the hospital to make up for all the relief that flooded through me.

When I get there, I do my best to run in heels to the reception area because, seriously, holy shit, what if Jack has died or something, what if he has alcohol poisoning, or, or, or- ‘You’re here to see Jack Barakat?’ the receptionist asks. I nod and she points me left, ‘Last door on the right,’ and I take off again, my ankles screaming protest.

‘Alex!’ I yell as soon as I see him standing outside the room, and he whips towards me and then fucking beams. I can’t tell why, though - what if he’s drunk too and finds Jack dying hilarious or what if Jack survived some kind of life-threatening injury but before I can tumble deeper into that, he’s lifted me off the ground and spun me around. ‘Jesus fucking Christ, what the fucking fuck - Alex? Alex!’

‘Oh my god,’ he laughs, beaming and smiling and pressing kisses all over my head, ‘oh my god, Becca, you would not believe what just happened, oh my god, oh my god, oh my go-’

I push myself away from him, still not sure if how delirious he is is from Jack surviving a life-threatening injury or from the general hilarity of how Jack would most likely die. ‘Do you want to, like, tell me what happened?’

‘We got signed,’ he says, face all scrunched up like it only gets when he’s truly happy, and then repeats, ‘We got signed. Hopeless Records called and - fuck! - they want us on, for, like, a while. They want us, Becca, they actually want us!’

I pause, the words still processing before I gasp and jump on him because holy shit, did this actually happen? I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think it would happen at all, but there is a legitimate record label who legitimately called and they actually fucking want them and- ‘Oh my god! That is, like, the greatest thing in the entire world, oh my god, I’m so happy for you!’

‘I know! It’s, fuck, oh my god, I can’t believe it -’

I smile back at him, so wide it feels like my face is splitting and we stand there for what seems like forever, just laughing and swearing and hugging each other until Zack wanders out of the room and clears his throat.

‘Oh, uh, hi,’ I say, blushing because what Alex and I were doing was kind of ridiculous.

‘You told her?’ Zack asks, and then I remember myself and pounce on him too.

‘You too! Oh my god, you guys!’ I grab Alex and squeeze them both as hard as I can because oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. ‘You’re, like, a band!’

‘Really,’ Zack says sarcastically, but he’s laughing too. I spot Rian over by a vending machine so I yell for him to come too, and then the four of us just stand there, the three of them laughing while I jump around and hug them all and the only words to come out of my mouth are ‘Oh my god’. This lasts for about ten minutes before I remember where we are, and I leap back in horror.

‘Wait, wait, wait - Okay - You guys have been signed, your future is set, great, but - Why are we in the fucking E.R. again?’

‘Oh,’ Rian laughs. ‘That.’

‘Long story short, Jack fell out of a tree.’ Zack says. ‘He sprained his wrist.’

‘Oh. Uh -’

‘Why was he in a tree?’ Alex asks. I nod. He laughs and says, ‘He was in his room when I called him with the news and, like, I told him that Zack would be over to pick him up so get out soon -’

‘And then when I got there he was lying in his front yard cussing up a storm and scaring the kids,’ Zack finishes.

‘So, basically, Jack decided to climb out of his window and - uh - it didn’t really work?’ I ask.

‘Pretty much,’ Rian laughs. We all laugh and shake our heads at Jack, an unspoken Glad he didn’t do anything worse in the air (because if anyone were capable of doing that to himself, it’d be Jack) until the doctor comes out and tells us we can go in to see him if we want. Alex jerks his head towards the door and squeezes my hand. I look questioningly at the three of them when they stay rooted in their spots and Alex says, ‘Go ahead. We need to clear up his emergency contact info and stuff with the doctor.’ I nod and push the door open to find Jack on the bed, freshly cleaned cuts all over his face and a wrap around his right wrist.

‘Hey,’ I say.

‘Hi,’ he says back, waving with his sprained wrist, staying quiet for a second longer before: ‘Did Alex tell you?’

My face breaks into a huge grin and I jump over to sit on the chair by his bed, dragging it close until I can put my arms on his bed and then my head on my arms. ‘Guess you made it to the big time,’ I say.

‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah,’ I agree, and then laugh, reaching forward to grab his hand. It twitches a little, the sprain preventing him from doing anything else, and I squeeze it a little. ‘Good job,’ I say, and my throat clogs up before I can say anything else. Jack grins, pulls me in closer, and stays silent, holding my hand until the rest of the boys come in. We stay there all night long, through the doctors and relatives that pass through, until the morning comes and I force all of them into the car with promises of caffeine and the future to push us through another school day.

- - -

From Rebecca H. to Robin B. (CC) on 03/15/06
you guys will not believe what just happened

Zoe G. to Rebecca H. (CC)
1 why are you still up it’s 1 in the morning
2 what happened

Rebecca H. to Zoe G. (CC)
is everyone else there right now?

Zoe G. to Rebecca H. (CC)
yeah, we went to the party for an hour and now we’re at brittany’s house watching romcoms and eating chocolate

Rebecca H. to Zoe G. (CC)
classic v day

Zoe G. to Rebecca H. (CC)
ikr? but yeah i’ve got brittany and robin next to me right now, lauren’s not here tho

Rebecca H. to Zoe G. (CC)
eh alright
but are you guys ready for a giant surprise

Zoe G. to Rebecca H. (CC)
omg just tell us already

Rebecca H. to Zoe G. (CC)
DRUM ROLL PLEASE

Zoe G. to Rebecca H. (CC)
DRUM ROLL HAPPENING

Rebecca H. to Zoe G. (CC)
WELL

Zoe G. to Rebecca H. (CC)
YOU’RE THE WORST

Rebecca H. to Zoe G. (CC)
the boys got signed :DDD

Zoe G. to Rebecca H. (CC)
OMG

Rebecca H. to Zoe G. (CC)
I KNOW

Zoe G. to Rebecca H. (CC)
omg we have so many things to say but my fingers hurt

Rebecca H. to Zoe G. (CC)
i’ll come tomorrow (today) after school
we’ll freak out then

Zoe G. to Rebecca H. (CC)
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- - -