Destined to Explode

It’s barely a week until Christmas and I’ve only been staying in my Mother’s house again for five days, but I’m already missing Alex’s.
I love my Mom, I always have, we’re the kind of family who have barely any arguments, but after living on my own for more than two years, being back under somebody’s else’s roof, who actually have still have ‘house rules’, is a little difficult.
I’m not an irresponsible person, but the amount of things I constantly have to think about when I move around the house just so I don’t do something wrong and upset her, quickly bring me down and I’m sure I’d even prefer to be living with Jack right now.

“I’m off to go see Jack now!” I shout up the stairs to my Mother, “I don’t know if I’ll be back tonight but I have my keys and I’ll call you or something.”

I feel like a teenager all over again, having to tell her where I’m going and when I’ll be back again just so I don’t get incessant phone calls while I’m out.
The drive is pretty short to the Barakat’s, my Mother having moved closer to Joyce when I’d moved out, in an attempt not to be so lonely, but I’m not sure it worked, with the way she clings to me now.

“Hey lanky shit!” I scream once I’m inside the warm house, dropping my bag on the floor, easily swinging my coat onto a hook, keeping the hat I’d stolen from the Gaskarth/Dawson residence tight on my head, “Kitchen meeting!”

I swing myself into one of the breakfast stools, saying my hello’s to Joyce before Jack is barrelling in, Zack fighting him all the way, Alex a little calmer in their wake.

“Sup’ relative?” Jack plops down next to me, “Having fun at the Zicarelli place?”

“Tons, Jack, thanks, I just love being treated like I’m twelve again.” I send an apologetic glance to Joyce who just laughs in response, clearly knowing her sister, “Anyway, I’ve got a ton of sketches I want you to look over and shit, and we’ll see which ones Marky will approve.”

“You gonna pull them out of your ass or..” Zack raises an eyebrow as he looks around for paper, and I flick his arm, laughing.

“They’re in my bag by the door, go mad. I’m gotta call Marky to discuss prices and shit so I’m not rushing around later.”

I leave them to it, knowing how picky they are about things to do with merch and sitting with them while they picked apart my sketches wasn‘t something I wanted to do.
I find peace in the dining room, sat on the window seat, knees bent as I lean against the window, groaning internally as snow starts falling from the sky again, immediately beginning to lay on the dry, icy ground.
Marky discusses merch prices and plans for press about this collaboration for almost an hour, making sure I know all the gritty details if I’m ever asked, making sure I understand that I’m still under GK employment and that I’m expected to still contribute to the new lines and to keep up on my blogging, despite the fact I wasn’t going to be in the office again for a long while, if ever again.
Alex steps in quietly just as I’m reassuring Marky that I’d send all the sketches I’d just done before Christmas so he could process them and send the designs to the printers, and I hold a finger up to gesture I’ll only be a second, quickly saying my ‘goodbye’ and ‘miss you’ to my employer before I hang up, slamming my head back against the window.

“Marky finally in panic mode?” Alex questions as he slides onto the window seat as well, leaning against the opposite window, bending his legs, letting his feet rest on the outside of mine, mimicking my stance, “I’ve left Jack to fuck up your sketches alone.”

I groan, rubbing my hands across my face, because I didn‘t really expect today to be this stressful, “I have to redraw them anyway, cos you guys always change something about them, not that I can every make top nor tail of your fucking notes.”

“Well, someone needs a nap.” Alex jokes lightly, reaching across slightly to squeeze my knee, “You Ok, Poppy? I mean, really?”

I just shrug as I let my head rest against the window, eyes facing the ceiling as I feel the familiar burn of on coming tears, “I honestly don’t know anymore. I thought being back with my Mom would stop me thinking about it, maybe trick myself into believing it never happened, but…”

“You still not sleeping?”

“A few hours here and there.” I shake my head, “I didn’t think it had gotten to be this much. I hate it, Lex. I found myself wishing to be back in Chicago the other night, back with Rick kicking the shit out of me, because at least then I could act like everything was fine. That‘s so fucked up I can‘t even…”

Alex lets out a little groan of protest as he shuffles forward, dragging my legs forward until they’re looped over his and around his waist, effectively pressing our chests together as he uses the heels of hands to gently wipe the tears that have fallen from my eyes before he’s fully embracing me.
The rooms pretty much silent from then, only my incessant sniffing and odd ragged breath disturbing the quiet, until, that is, Jack bounds in, talking a mile a minute.

“Right, so I really liked the name one, but can you do it in other colours, just because? I didn’t change shit on the ‘Exist’ hoody’s, cos I think they’re fucking A-. Guys…” He groans half way through, whining like a toddler and I can‘t but laugh as I watch him flail his arms in a tantrum, my head still resting against Alex’s shoulder “Why can’t you two just be fucking normal for once and stop being all clingy with each other?”

“Jesus, Jack, I’m giving your cousin a hug, that’s not being clingy, it’s being comforting, OK?”

I guess Jack notices the tear stains on either my face or Alex’s hoody because he skitters over and crouches down by our sides, throwing himself into our cuddle, “Don’t be sad Popsicle, it’s almost Christmas and then you get to spend like, three whole months with us, on a bus! How epic is that?!”

“I know, Jack.” I smile at him, ruffling his hair which he frowns at, “Once I start feeling Christmassy, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah well, I don’t want you to be sad until then, either, so fuck Rick, fuck Illinois, you’re here now, and tonight we’re getting fucked up and having snow wars.” He flicks me on the forehead as he stands, pushing my beanie down over my eyes, “Go buy some wine, slave.”