That Girl

Unfortunately, there was a dynamic I’d completely missed in the whole thing with Jeannie:

“What happens when you all go on tour?”

“She asked me about that last night.” I declared, tossing my pointer stick (the position now being filled by an antenna that had broken off of an old portable radio that Jack had lying around at his house) theatrically to the side. “So now we have two agendas, men.”

“Uh,” Kara coughed, “excuse me, but Lizzie and I are-.”

“Soldiers.” I amended with my mock-authoritative voice, feeling quite comfy in the theoretical shoes of a powerful, respected figure (though my real shoes were just Alex’s old sneakers).

Alex, speak of the devil, snorted from his position on the counter to my left and out of my direct line of sight. He blindsided me, startling me as he dropped his arm around my shoulder casually, smirking in amusement as he took over the speaking part of my duties without my permission.

“So Jack, are you prepared to tackle your girlfriend’s insecurities about your relationship?”

There was a long pause as Jack pondered a response, “Am I supposed to answer that question?”

“Nope,” Alex replied quickly, popping the ‘p’ as he twirled a drumstick in his hand, a skill he’d probably originally acquired with a pencil when he tuned out the teachers in his classes, “because if you don’t do this, shit will go down. You don’t really have the choice to sit out and do nothing, bro.”

Jack frowned, “So what’re we doing first? Another movie night? That seemed to be, uh, successful?”

I shot Jack a deadpanning look, “Just because I got her to spill to me and you two made out during the last half of The Empire Strikes Back doesn’t make it successful.”

“Actually,” Rian pointed out, “it sort of does. We made progress.”

“But we’re not doing it again,” Alex said with an air of finality, “We need to set up Jack asking Jeannie to prom.”

I nodded my head in agreement, “Something… dramatic?”

My eyes flickering up to Alex’s, I noticed his smirk as he rolled his eyes, “I was thinking he could ask her to prom during our show at the Treble Hall this weekend.”

I thought for a moment over it.

First, well, that might put Jeannie under a lot of pressure- but if we executed it right, if Jack said the right things, she could be serenaded and have confidence that things between them would end up working out. Tour didn’t matter, they’d still be together. I found myself leaning against Alex slightly in my deep thought, my lower lip poking out, almost like I was… pouting? I regained my composure quickly, shaking my head.

“That sounds fantastic.” I concluded. Alex offered his free hand up for a high-five. I obliged quickly, smiling widely as my mind started plotting. “Jack, you will script what you plan on saying. I will get Jeannie there. This will go perfectly.”

Jack nodded, gulping slightly.

“Now, I have to walk to Jeannie’s so we can go dress shopping.” I said with a flourishing clap of my hands.

“Don’t you already have your dress?” Alex questioned, quite confused. My gaze shifted to him, mortified.

“And, pray tell, how the hell would you know something like that?” I questioned rhetorically. He immediately understood that he was walking on eggshells right now, concerning his knowledge of the dress that was currently tucked away in the far corner of the small closet in my room upstairs.

“My mom had me hang some shirts up in your closet and I saw the-, ow.”

“Ow is right, you idiot. You don’t go rifling through a girl’s closet!” I exclaimed, and even though there were several others in the room (five, to be exact), it felt like it was just Alex and me. Me: mortified that he’d done the forbidden and gone in my space, no matter how temporary it was, and found something that went against all the traditions of high school.

“What’s the big deal?” He asked, “It’s not like I went looking for it!”

I smacked him in the arm again, regardless. “Prom is like weddings with the dress tradition. The groom, or in the case of prom, the date, isn’t supposed to see the stupid dress until the day of! Or else shit will hit the fan!”

“As if some prom voodoo is going to make our relationship even more fucked up than it already is.” Alex snorted in disbelief, “It’s not like we’ve got anything to lose.”

“You’re missing the point!” I exclaimed.

“I didn’t even look at it!” He defended, “I just saw the garment bag!”

I stopped hitting him, but continued to frown. “Ass.” I mumbled.

Alex rolled his eyes, “I’ll drive you over to Jean’s and then Jack and I can go get fitted for the tuxes.”

I nodded slowly, making sure my phone was still in my pocket before declaring the meeting adjourned, “I’ll meet you two at Rita’s?”

“Sounds like a deal.” He offered me his free hand and we shook on it.

As he dropped me off at Jeannie's I felt as though I'd missed something.

"You alright, Stell?" Jeannie asked me as we walked into the Baltimore mall's Windsor, me absently staring into space and not helping at all while Jeannie went through racks and racks of modestly nice-to-hideous dresses.

"Yeah, I just feel like I missed something."

"Missed what?"

"I dunno. Something happened, something little, but also really big, you know?" I glanced to Jeannie, noticing the confused look she gave me.

"No," she started slowly, "but I'll pretend that I do if that helps?"

"Yeah, thanks." I said, "I mean, it was a little detail, but it had a lot of meaning behind it, and I can't put my finger on it."

"Did you and Alex do something sweet and couple-y?" She grinned widely as my cheeks heated up to a very unattractive shade of red.

"No." I insisted, turning away from her and shoving some hangers to the side to get a good look at a pretty, dark blue dress. "What about this one?"

"Ooh, that's pretty." She agreed moments later, and I felt her shift to stand beside me, running her fingers down the fabric, "It's really pretty, Stella."

"It goes well with your skin tone." I observed, her caramel-colored skin contrasting well with the pretty blue shade of the dress.

"Thanks, but don't think you've avoided my question."

I chuckled, "Alright Jean, why don't you go on and try this on?"

"But look at the price tag?"

"It's on me, Jean." I told her with a shrug, "Price doesn't matter."

"I know you're well-off, Stella, but you're not loaded."

"You'd be surprised the money that Hopeless paid for me to work on the album regardless of me volunteering to do it."

"How much?" She asked curiously, blushing as she realized what she'd said, "Oh, I didn't mean it like-."

"They gave me enough to hire an assistant and have a hotel room for my whole stay."

She whistled, "Whoa."

"Yeah, so I've had a shit-ton of money sitting in my account since I got here, and I'm spending some on you. Plus, you bought my album."

"That was twelve dollars, Stella, not three-hundred."

"You put up with me, which is priceless."

*.*.*

Dinner with just Alex wasn't so tense and awkward anymore. We both sat on the same side of the booth at Rita's. The tables were so wide that it made conversation awkward, so we had agreed to not yell our asses off just to communicate and just sit on the same seat.

"But seriously, what has the UK done for the rock industry in the past few years?"

It was interesting how the aspect of prom with Alex didn't turn us into a flustered pair of stereotypical teenagers that were questioning whether or not we were romantically interested in each other or anything.

"Well, let's be fair here. They gave us the Beatles, which was a revolution in itself. They started the big thing that ended up forming a bunch of genres, including ours."

We were both grounded in the fact that we were friends and that was it- and Jeannie could stick that in her juice box and suck it. There was nothing going on between us.

"I guess, but why don't they keep up the legend? The most recent thing they've given us is Green Day, and, don't get me wrong, they're good, but they just seem a bit blown out of proportion, don't you think?"

I mean, Mr. and Mrs. G had decided to go out on a date night and Alex and I were left with two options, go out to eat, or be stuck with some leftovers- I had a plate of salad, and he had a cheeseburger.

"Maybe a bit, but the United States hasn't really done too much recently, either."

And it wasn't tense or awkward in the slightest. We were just two sort-of friends eating dinner and talking about the music industry.

"Uh, excuse you?"

"What?"

"Blink-182? New Found Glory? Panic! at the Disco and, eh, Time After Twelve?"

"Alright," Alex granted, taking a massive bit and speaking around a mouthful of meat and cheese and- ew. "but hey."

"What?" I responded, wrinkling my nose and taking a sip of my water.

"The UK's got me, yeah?"

"You don't even live there anymore." I snorted, "You don't have the accent either!"

"I bloody well, do!" He responded in mock-offense, taking extra care to have an extremely exaggerated British accent.

I practically inhaled my water, I was laughing so hard. "Oh my God."

Alex patted me on the back as I coughed, "Whoa, Stella, you alright?"

"I'm fine." I sputtered out as I pounded my fist just below my collarbone one last time, breathing a bit heavily as I leaned into his shoulder, "Thanks."

"I should be saying sorry." He chuckled, rubbing my back comfortingly, "I just almost killed you."

"Wouldn't be the first time." I grinned up at him, quirking my eyebrow as the same expression came over his face.

"Getting cheeky with me, love?" He said, heavy on the Essex accent that his family had as he pinched my cheek with his free hand. I felt my stomach go light.

"Wanker." I shot back, watching as his eyes widened in surprise before his grin turned mischievous.

"Now that's a bit rude, innit, Stella?" He played up on the lingo as I pulled away from him at took a bite of my pasta.

I shrugged, smiling at him after I swallowed my food before leaning back again.

"I dunno, is it?"

"A bit." He played along, "But really, where'd you learn how to talk like that? You're accent's pretty good."

I scrunched my nose up before taking another bite, "Time After Twelve toured more in the UK than in the US, Lex. We were more popular there."

He tensed a bit, next to me, and suddenly he was pressed up against the window as he muttered out an "oh."

"What's the matter?" I asked, confused.

"Nothing." He said distractedly, "Just, sometimes I- yeah. Nothing, Stella."

I frowned, but let it go while Alex continued to stare out of the window blankly, probably in deep thought.

Later that night, I think I had finally figured out the little detail.

And by 'think I'd figured it out,' I meant that I'd figured it out, but just really didn't want to admit it to myself.

Alex had offered his free hand all of today, which meant his other one was doing something. That something specifically being wrapped around my shoulder. There must have been something terribly wrong with me.