That Girl

“Gonna set you up, Miss Jeannie
“Hope you like the Stella Genie.” I sang, horribly off-key as I spun around in the kitchen, feeling like a dancer with the effect my sock-clad feet had against the tile as I did a pirouette, running into yet another wall that wasn’t there.

Alex let out a chuckle as he steadied me with his arm looped around my waist, “Careful there.” He said, reaching over my small form and into the cabinet to grab a cup. I found my breath hitched as I realized I was pressed between Alex and the counter and my face was suddenly really warm. Actually, my whole body was aflame and- what the fuck?

I shook my head as Alex stepped back, his hand dropping back to his side, and making my waist feel quite drafty.

“The fuck?” I said sharply, making sure he couldn’t see my face as I made my way to the fridge, trying to cool my face down because either Baltimore had hotter summers than Chicago (not a chance in hell) or something was seriously wrong with my blood flow, and I needed to be screened for all of the diseases in the book. I made sure to immerse myself in the cool air of the fridge, under the pretense that I was looking for some yogurt (which, fortunately, this house didn’t possess at the moment) while Alex got some ice from the freezer.

“Hm?” Alex responded, and I could feel his eyes on me.

“We’re out of yogurt.” I commented, shutting the fridge after retrieving a bottle of water.

“You don’t like yogurt,” Alex responded, taking the water bottle from my hand before heading over towards the counter next to the sink and twisting off the cap, pouring some water in. I ended up with a half-full bottle.

“Prick.” I muttered, half-joking. He smirked.

“Besides, yogurt’s hard on your voice or something, isn’t it?”

I colored awkwardly, “Probably. I dunno, never cared enough to look it up.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Only you could do whatever the hell you want and still come out every night like that.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment…” I said, unsure of what he meant, “because I never warm up before doing vocals.”

“You just clear your throat and sing.” Alex scoffed, “Not fair.”

I shrugged, “I suppose. My vocals are the same quality without warming up than they are with it.” I paused with a grin, “Always shitty.”

He smacked my arm, “Don’t insult my music tastes.”

I quirked an eyebrow, turning towards him. “What?”

“What?” He responded, pulling a face that I could tell was a bit mocking. Especially when he went cross-eyed for a moment. I pursed my lips. “What.”

I huffed, taking a drink from the bottle.

*.*.*

I had a whiteboard and everything. And I felt really powerful, kind of like I was the producer. “So Jack, being the proper numpty that he is, hasn’t asked Jeannie to prom yet.”

“What the fuck is a numpty?” Jack muttered.

“Sheer idiocy warrants foreign insulting.” I said, for a moment high and mighty. Alex grinned.

“She called you a moron with British lingo.” Alex told him, smiling widely as he ruffled Jack’s hair.

“Thus, we are left with the dilemma.” I said, gesturing to the whiteboard:

JACKIE NEEDS TO GROW A PAIR AND PATCH THINGS UP WITH JEANNIE, TAKE HER TO PROM, AND FINALLY TELL HER HE LOVES HER.

“Nice wording.” Rian commented, arm around Kara.

I nodded with a small smile, “So it’s going to go like this: Jack, you need to get your confidence up.” He opened his mouth to make a smart-ass comment, “I don’t care about what the hell you have to do. You and Alex are having a guys’ day out. Do what guys do. Go skating. Go to a strip club.” I already regretted that one, so I amended it, “Get drunk on Thames. See a therapist. I don’t fucking care, just get Jack some fucking confidence before I have to go all Valley Girl on him and be like,” I shifted into a high pitched voice easily, my posture shifting into that of a bubblegum chewing bimbo from the west coast as I cocked a hip and started twirling my hair around my finger, “Why hello there Mister Barakat,” I laughed lightly but stayed in character as his eyes widened at the purr I’d put on his last name, “are you casting Auguamenti?” I paused, earning myself the raised eyebrows of the whole room, “Because you’re making me wet.”

Rian doubled over laughing, Kara’s chiming laugh echoing off of the walls along with Lizzie’s as the latter buried her face in Zack’s shoulder. Zack looked slightly disturbed; Alex had some extremely stiff posture, his hands resting over the pillow that sat on his lap. Jack, on the other hand, sat there, looking at me wide-eyed as he shrank back against the chair.

“How did you do that?”

I shrugged, turning back to the whiteboard, “I had to imitate Ashlee a few times for Pete when he was struggling with… communication?” I pursed my lips together at the word choice before continuing, “And it’s funny when she’s getting all weird and I can just stand behind her and mock every second of it.”

“Stella,” Rian addressed me with a heavy sigh, “I think Jack is referring to the fact that you just made a Harry Potter pick-up line.”

“And it sounded…” Zack coughed before restarting, “It didn’t sound like a joke.”

“You know, we should watch some Harry Potter,” Rian said, and to my glare he added, “after this. It’s been a while since we’ve had a movie marathon.”

I dropped my pointer stick (Alex’s old ruler from middle school) after a moment of thought, “Actually, that could be our first step.” I said with a slightly manic grin growing on my face, “Jack, you call up Jeannie. Movie marathon tonight.”

*.*.*

Jeannie had a habit of straightening her surroundings when she was waiting for something; something in this case was our home-made pizza as we waited for it to cool off after taking it out of the oven. It was a habit I envied, especially because she hummed Time After Twelve's singles while she did it.

“Why isn’t it done yet?” I groaned, hitting my head gently on the table while my stomach let out an inhuman roar.

“It’ll be cooled off soon.” Jeannie told me, stacking some plates that I’d washed this morning in the cupboard, wiping crumbs off of the counter and dumping them in the trash can. “Just wait.”

I grimaced before a quote came to mind. I recalled the Harry Potter/Star Wars film marathon Rian, Zack, Jack, Alex, Kara, Lizzie, Jeannie and I had occurring in the other room (currently on pause after our completion of the third movie) while the two of us made food. “I DID MY WAITING!” I exclaimed.

Jeannie, knowing what was coming, face-palmed, “Damn it.”

“TWELVE YEARS OF IT!” I continued, my voice rising in volume.

“I set myself up for that one, didn’t I?” She mused, sporting the first legitimate smile, though it was a half-smile, I’d seen from her in weeks.

“IN AZKABAN!” I cried before falling silent, satisfied for the moment.

“It’ll be done in a second.” There was a shift in her tone. I looked over at Jeannie, only to see her looking out the window in an almost movie-perfect sort of way. The sun’s golden glow with the sun setting made her look even more tan than she already was. “Hey Stella?”

“Yeah?” I responded, all humor gone from the atmosphere. The small smile I’d had from quoting Sirius Black falling because Jeannie looked really anxious, but also like she was trying to be casual and detached, which was never a good mix for anybody.

She bit her lip, playing with the end of her skirt, “We’re friends, right?”

“Best friends,” I corrected, “You and I are like…” I paused, “I dunno. We’re tight, and beyond cliché, Jean. Why?”

“I, just…” She let out an exhale and pulled herself up to sit on the now-clean counter, “Am I too pushy?”

I lifted an eyebrow, “No.”

“Clingy?”

I smiled slightly, “Not at all, Jean.” I sat forward in my chair, gathering my thoughts, “Nobody’s perfect, obviously, but you don’t really have any flaws in that area. Socially, the only thing that you do is bottle things up. Confrontation,” I clarified, “Is there a bush you’re beating around right now, Jean?”

She smiled sheepishly, blushing, “Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?” I asked. She nodded, twiddling her fingers around each other intricately before wiping her sweaty hands on her skirt.

“Jack’s going to break up with me, isn’t he?”

I sat up in shock, unable to respond for a moment because of how ludicrous her question was. Like, seriously, the kid was more likely to get down on one knee than dump her, and he was what, eighteen and still as immature as a twelve year old who’d just discovered penis jokes on the internet?

Unfortunately, my speechlessness was misconstrued:

“Oh, God.” She looked about ready to break down, holding her hand to her mouth as she tried to cover up her almost ill expression. She seriously looked like she was going to be sick, which, in any other setting, would make me chide her for her dependence on another person.

“Jeannie,” I started tonelessly, “I hope you’re aware that your mental health is under scrutiny right now.” That got her attention. I eyed her cautiously, “I’m convinced that how unaware you are of Jack’s complete infatuation with you validates a mo-fo-ing CAT scan.” I told her seriously, frowning at how verbose I’d just become. I found myself ending my short monologue with, “Like, seriously, you be cray cray.”

Jeannie smiled a little bit, “So you’re saying he’s not going to?”

I shook my head vigorously before taking a second to flip my bangs out of my eyes and brush some hair away from my lips, “Not a chance in hell, Jean.”

She let out a relieved sigh, her posture going from picture perfect to a slightly less-than-casual slouch, “Okay, that’s good.”

I shrugged, “Well, that’s the truth.” There was a brief pause, “Is that why you’ve been this way the whole time?” The question was rhetorical, but I knew that she still needed to get something off of her chest to be completely relieved of all the stuff she’s been carrying around.

“I was trying to distance myself from you guys,” she admitted with a nod and a sad smile, “I thought you felt obligated to have me around,” my eyes widened, because this girl must’ve been insane, “and… I dunno, I guess I thought you all didn’t like me too much.”

It was decided. I would call the cops and get Jeannie to a mental hospital because she had finally lost it.

“Nope,” I made a point to pop the ‘p’ as I made my way over to Jeannie, grasping her shoulders to get her attention, “you’re one of my best friends. Probably my best friend that isn’t a musician, even though you sing like an angel.” I said, recalling how after some quick research, I’d found out that Jeannie wasn’t in journalism, but choir. I may or may not have listened in on one of the rehearsals. “And that’s not changing anytime soon.”

The smile she gave me was enough reassurance for the Get-Jack-and-Jean-Back-Together-and-Perfect right on track.