That Girl

As Finley did her final stretching outside of the park, she chose to not listen to her iPod. Instead, it sat on the grass next to her feet. Lifting her arms above her head, she cracked her shoulders, rolling her neck side to side. Stretching was one of her favorite things to do. She didn't know why. With her music off, she was able to hear everything more clearly, and when she heard a twig snap, she wasn't surprised or scared like some other girl would have been. She turned around slowly, somehow not surprised to see Alex walking a few feet away.

She sighed. Of course.

Alex glanced up, his eyes meeting Finley's, and he stopped walking. "Hey."

"Some ridiculous sort of joke this is," she muttered before mustering up a small smile. "Hi."

Alex walked past her and over to the picnic table, setting his notebooks down and sitting down slowly.

Finley paused. She was used to Alex trying to start a conversation with her. She was used to Alex talking to her until she decided to talk back. She was used to Alex doing a lot of things. But she was not used to Alex being silent. Or, well, sulking. Whatever. Against her better judgment, she picked her iPod up off the grass and walked over to the table before sitting down quietly.

Quickly, Alex sent her a look before returning his eyes to his hands.

"What did the guys do?" she asked him quietly.

"What?" he asked, confused. "How did you--"

She shrugged. "You have a show in a few days. I assumed you wanted to practice as much as possible. You have your notebooks with you that…are always on you. I imagine they're filled with lyrics, songs," she told him with a shrug. "You left in a hurry. Your books are normally more organized."

Alex's eyebrows furrowed together. "The fuck."

"I'm just…observant," she told him lightly.

"And you're right."

Finley shrugged again. She didn't want to sound arrogant but, well, she kind of expected she was right. "Do you want to…talk about it?" she asked awkwardly.

Alex looked over at her hesitantly. "Why do you care?"

"Who said I care?"

"You're asking me what's wrong. Usually people only do that when they actually care. And, no offense, Finley, but you don't exactly have a warm personality," he told her.

Finley laughed, a full smile forming on her face. "You are right on that one, Alex," she told him.

Alex couldn't deny that he was surprised that she had the ability to laugh. He also couldn't deny that yeah, okay, she had a beautiful smile. Whatever. "I'm kind of observant, too," he muttered.

Finley tried to wipe the smile off of her face, but she was unsuccessful. "So…do you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Alex sighed. "We're just having some trouble with the set list for the show," he told her. "We have a couple of originals. But they want me to play a song that I'm not comfortable with playing live."

"So don't play it."

"It's not that simple. Jack's being an asshole about it. He doesn't understand," Alex said simply.

"Did you try to make him understand?"

Alex shrugged before staring off into the park. It wasn't empty but it wasn't crowded. There were a few children with their parents, playing on the swing sets about ten yards away. Even with people around, Alex felt comfortable confiding in Finley. He didn't know why. He wasn't going to fight it. "Unfortunately, I can't beat this answer into his skull."

"Did you try?"

Alex laughed. "I did not. I don't think I'd be successful."

Finley shrugged. "How unfortunate. I mean, not for him. But, yeah, for you."

"I tried explaining it to him. But he doesn't know what it's like, you know? I mean, it's about my brother."

"When did he die?"

Alex sent her a look, but he didn't question how she knew. She was observant, after all. "I was twelve. He was twenty-one. I don't want to talk about it."

"I won't make you."

Alex sighed. "I'm just not ready to play the song. None of them get it."

"Have they ever lost anyone?"

He shook his head.

"Then they won't understand until they do."

With another sigh, he shook his head. "Then is it bad that I say I hope they never do understand?"

"No," Finley said quietly. "No one should ever have to face that."

"Yeah. Have you ever lost someone?" he asked her slowly.

"Something like that."

Alex nodded. Since she hadn't pushed him, he felt he shouldn't push her either. He quietly reached over to grab her hand. He didn't know why he did it--maybe for some sense of comfort.

Finley jumped, biting her lip, and she quickly stood up. "I should go."

"Finley--Wait--"

"I have to get home," she told him.

"But did I--"

"You didn't do anything, Alex," she yelled over her shoulder before running back to her house. Her father wasn't there when she returned, for which she was thankful. She shut the door to her room and frowned. "Goddammit."

+

Alex watched, confused, as Finley ran out of the park. He didn't know what he did, what he said, what transgressed that caused her to run off. But he wish he knew. With a sigh, he glanced back down at the table, and a ray of sunlight bouncing off of metal caught his eye.

Her iPod.

Jesus Christ, he thought with a sigh. He never would've thought that his life could turn into one cliche after another. But after Finley, that's all he seemed to find. With a groan, he shoved the iPod into his pocket and grabbed his books, standing up. He just wanted to go home.

+

That week, Finley decided to take her lunch in the library. And by that, well, she just didn't eat lunch. Instead, she hung out in the library where she would kill time with a novel or a collection of short stories. It wasn't that she was avoiding Alex. She was just…avoiding everyone. But it wasn't like he was searching for her anyway. In math, the only class they had together, he didn't even try to talk to her.

No. No, that was unlike Alex. He just chose to pay attention to the material on the board. Which, yeah, that was unlike him, too.

Which was why on Friday afternoon, when Alex sauntered (yeah, he sauntered) into the library, Finley was more than a little confused. She tried to act like she didn't see him but, well, she wasn't a good actress. And even though she kept her eyes glued to her book, she still noticed when he stopped by her table.

"Why did you run?" he asked.

Finley's hands tightened on her book. "I didn't run."

Alex sighed and pulled out the chair next to her, taking a seat. "You said I didn't do anything wrong. Yet I can't shake the feeling in my stomach that says I did."

"You didn't," she repeated.

Alex reached over and slowly took the book out of her hands, closing it and setting it down.

"You made me lose my place," Finley snapped.

"I have a feeling you'll remember where you left off," he told her lightly.

She sighed and sent him a look. "I had to get home."

"You forgot your iPod," he told her, pulling it out of his messenger bag and sliding it across the table to her.

Finley grabbed it and shoved it quickly into her bag. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She reached for her book again, but Alex pushed it further away on the table. "Goddammit, Alex, what do you want?"

"Thank you."

She shook her head. "For what?"

He shrugged. "For…you know…listening?" he said, more to himself than to her. "Wait, no, that's lame. For…" he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

"You're welcome," she told him, not waiting for him to finish his thought.

"Finley, I--"

"I said, you're welcome," she snapped. "Can we leave it at that?"

Alex bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to shrug. "Fine."