That Girl

"Will you go to prom with me, Jeannie?"

It could've been really simple- Jack takes her to a concert. I would've even called up the guys from TAT to play a show in Baltimore if Jack hadn't felt so obligated to make this a big ordeal.

A guilty Jack was a very interesting Jack.

"Jack, you don't have to buy her flowers."

"Every guy buys their girlfriend flowers when they ask them to prom, Stella."

"Well, sucks to suck, Jack. Jeannie isn't 'every other girl.' You go and buy her flowers and you're not proving yourself at all." I told him for the dozenth time as we walked up to the flower stand in the local grocery store chain once again.

"Why?"

Finally, he asked the question, "Because you need to ask her in a way that proves that you know her, and also in a way that she won't expect. You give her a dedication at the show tonight and you're setting yourself up way better."

"A dedication?"

"Yeah. Lee did it for his girlfriend, who was into our music and she was all over him afterwards." I recalled, remembering the chain of shows we'd done close to Lee's home in New York. I missed live shows, probably more than anything about the music experience was the live show and vibe that Time After Twelve had.

Jack shook his head and smiled, "Sometimes I forget that you were in a big name band like TAT, Stella." He chuckled a bit as he pulled Jeannie's favorite flowers (after some very very subtle and deep delving into la vida de Jeannie, I'd finally uncovered her favorite flower: white roses... So predictable) He walked up to the cash register and pulled out his wallet, buying the flowers.

"What the hell are you doing, Jack? I told you not to buy-."

"Isn't it kind of weird to be with your girlfriend when you're buying her flowers?" The cashier asked, eyeing Jack strangely.

"What?"

I stared at the woman blankly for a moment before I almost choked on my understanding, "Wait, you think that we-?" I couldn't finish the sentence as I was overwhelmed by a fit of giggles, "Oh my God."

Jack snorted, "No, she's not my girlfriend."

"Then-?"

"Girlfriend's best friend... and she's sort of with my best friend."

"What?"

"Alex." Jack stated as if it were obvious, his eyebrow raised at me as he got his change from the lady and pocketed it; he grabbed the flowers and started walking with me towards the exit, "God, as soon as Jeannie and I have this whole thing worked, out, we're working on you and Alex."

"What?" I repeated dumbly as he pulled his keys out, unlocking the car and gently placing the roses in the center console as we got into the front seats.

"You and Alex." He repeated slowly, "Stella and Alex. I want it to be a thing before, if ever, the album picks up momentum, because then shit will just hit the fan when groupies start to get associated with All Time Low."

"Um, excuse me," I coughed, "I produced that album, so groupies come in the description, Jackary."

"Right, because anything Stella touches turns into gold." He rolled his eyes, pulling out of the spot. "Which can be taken literally, because our record could go gold with how many copies it's already sold."

"Damn straight," I nodded with a dumb smile tugging at my lips, "but seriously, Jack, what are you talking about?"

"You're into Alex-," I opened my mouth to protest, "don't even deny it. You're his date to prom, and don't say as friends because I see the way you two look at each other." I felt my cheeks heating up, "And you blush whenever we talk about him." He smirked, glancing at me through the rear-view mirror as we headed to the venue that the boys were meant to be playing tonight. Just a small show at a place that was kind of like the Baltimore home-town House of Blues. "The list goes on, really, but I know you two are into each other, so stop playing that 'Oh, Alex? I could never like him!' game when we all know and see it. You two are just being idiots about it."

I was about to basically just prove him right and say everything he had specifically told me not to, but I went for another approach, "How are we being idiots?"

Somehow, Jack found a way to stop at a red light sassily. He'd have to teach me how to drive with attitude. The guitarist shot me a look that made me blush even more. "Literally since the moment you got here, you two have been the biggest cliché I've seen in my life. 'Oh my God, Jack! I don't like him at all! He's so stupid and so mean to me!'" I felt myself grin involuntarily at his stupid impression of me, "and Alex is no better. He would rant about how much he hated you, but I know for a fact that he's had a thing for you since he first heard your voice and I dragged him to that TAT concert and he just stared at you like the dumbass he is the whole time. You two are both playing coy and it's cute but fucking annoying at the same time."

"Sorry?" I wasn't sure how he wanted me to respond to that.

"Don't be sorry." He shook his head, eyes returning to the road as the light turned green. I gripped my seat tightly, still scared to death of Jack's driving.

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to stop pretending that you don't like him and stop pretending that you two don't have the highest sexual tension level for thirty miles. It's weird to say this, because you're like my sister and everything, Stella, but I want you and Alex to do something about this. Date, or whatever. Just, God this is so fucking weird!"

"What, Jack?"

He let out a sigh, rolling to a stop again as we pulled into the parking lot of the venue.

"Stella, if it feels right, go for it. At prom, Alex is probably going to make a move, but don't be an idiot about it and stop him if he's what you want." He said slowly, unsure of his words as he fumbled with his hands, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and leaning back into his seat, "He's already is really unsure about taking you to prom in the first place because he thinks that the truce-friendship-thing or whatever the hell you two have going right now is fragile, which it probably is. Stella,"

"Yeah?"

He unbuckled his seatbelt, and I copied the action as he turned in his seat to look at me, "I want you to do this right. This doesn't need to turn into a soap opera, because the band doesn't need any more stress than we're going to get as soon as the band starts to kick off. You got me?"

"Yes, Jack." I said softly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with how serious he was.

"You're amazing Stella, but I'm not going to sit around and watch this play out when we have music that we have to focus on. It's your choice, and you need to make it."

I caught the undertone in his words. "Wait, are we still talking about Alex?"

He let out a sigh and pulled the keys out of the ignition and slipped out of the car, "I have to get to sound check, Stella. You coming?"

I sat there for a moment, staring off as I tried to figure out what Jack was saying. Jack was smart; I knew that much. When he was yelling and being carefree, he was really trying to figure you out by testing your limits, by uncovering your true personality. It was one of those things that you always sort of knew but never really thought about because he was always so playful.

Jack was probably the most observant kid I'd ever met, though.

"Mmhmm," I responded, quickly snapping out of my faze and pulling myself out of the car, not forgetting to grab the flowers before walking in pace with Jack towards the back entrance of the venue while my mind wandered elsewhere.

What did Jack mean? I knew he wasn't really talking about Alex when he'd said something about a choice and- good God, my existence was turning into a poorly-written novel. What was I going to do?

Fucking joke.

I decided to push the thoughts out of my head to the best of my ability, glad that I'd asked Alex to bring my iPod with him so that I could maybe distract myself and get all of these feelings down on paper. I took a deep breath as we entered the little green room the owner had kindly given us access to.

"Ryan?"

"Hey," he smiled widely, my phone in his hand, "you left this at the hotel a few days ago, so I thought I'd bring it over."

"You come to stay and watch the show?"

"You playing?" He asked, eyebrows pulling together in confusion, "I thought your project was performing tonight."

I laughed, feeling a bit of a sour taste in my mouth with the way he'd said that, "I'm singing with Alex. The bridge to one of their new songs has a girl part."

"Oh?"

"And All Time Low isn't my project, Ry. They didn't really need me for their album, or anything for that matter-."

"Nah, we needed you, Stel." Alex interrupted as he walked in casually, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out my iPod. "I couldn't find your headphones, so I put mine in for now."

"Thanks, Alex," I said, feeling a new sense of awkward as Alex and Ryan shared a long stare. "Well..." I stretched out the word, not doing anything to help the atmosphere, "Alex, you know Ryan, right?"

"Yeah." They both responded at the same time, their tones sounding not all that friendly.

"Lex," I turned away from Ryan, trying to take Jack's advice to heart and get him to look at me. Do what's natural, my hand came to rest on his chest, effectively getting his attention, "don't you have sound check?"

"Yup," he said, eyes drifting past my shoulder to Ryan, "I do, but I thought I'd just give you that before I forgot. You coming?"

"In a minute," I told him before clearing my throat and sliding my hand up to his shoulder as his fingers ghosted across the fabric of my shirt, his thumb curling around my belt loop. "I'll meet you out there, Alex. Thanks again for bringing this." I paused for a second, "And for letting me borrow your headphones. You're the best."

"Anytime." And with that, he slowly walked out of the room, leaving the awkward tension with him. I turned back around at the sound of Ryan's voice.

"When did that happen?"

"When did what happen?" I asked, reverting back into dumb Stella. I really needed to stop asking all of these rhetorical questions. I should've been like Jack, forgoing the transitions and just saying whatever the hell I needed to say, even if I was vague about everything.

"You and Alex."

"Um," I paused, looking away from his unreadable expression to the wall, to the sofa, anywhere but his face. I felt bad all over. Why was that? "we made a truce."

"Obviously there's more to it than that."

"Really Ryan?" I found myself saying, glaring at him. What in the hell was wrong with me? Why was I so angry?

"Really."

"I don't think it's really any of your business what goes on between me and Alex." Well that was irrational, and not even subtly defensive.

Ryan stared at me for a second, "Alright, so you're telling me that I don't have any right to ask a little question about my friend's personal life?"

I didn't like the way he said friends. Actually, I didn't like the way he said any of that. It was condescending, but I still felt the guilt tugging at my gut. "That's not what I said."

"That's sure as hell what it sounds like, Stella." More guilt, "I don't know what the hell is going on with you anymore. From what I've seen, this Alex guy has you two going through a really shitty cycle. He treats you like dirt and then drops a line to keep you next to him." He grimaced, "He's an ass, Stella, what are you doing?"

I stood there for a second, a lot of really rude words forming in my mind but stopping before I voiced them. Different approach. Everything needed a different approach, "D'you know what Brendon said when I talked to him about why Alex and I treated each other like shit the way we did?" I didn't give him much space to humor me, knowing that Ryan would say that he didn't give two shits even though he was interested in what his best friend had given me as advice, "He said that Alex and I are the same person-."

"That's bullshit, Stell, I know you, and you don't go around being a bitch to everyone like he does."

"But I do," I said with a humorless laugh and smile, "I always expect people to treat me with respect even when I'm a straight-up bitch to them, and I don't take people's shit. Alex was the same way when we first met, so we clashed," I could feel this turning into a very long explanation, so I cut it short, "so we called each other names because we both had a superiority complex."

"You say 'had' like it's over."

"It is. We both worked our shit out and toned down our egos. Alex is a good guy, Ry, a really great guy."

"I'm still not impressed."

"You don't have to be, Ry." I said with a shrug, "I mean, don't get me wrong, your opinion matters to me and I value it, Ry, but it's not going to change mine." Two truths and a lie tacked onto the end. "You met him when we were both being really mean to each other and just looking for an excuse to mutilate each other's confidence as if that would help us. We were both being bullies."

"So you're saying that if I go out there and talk to him it's going to be rainbows and butterflies?"

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, Ryan." I deadpanned, frowning, "And my answer to your condescending question is no, because you two got off on the wrong foot and give each other death glares that would make assassins uncomfortable."

"Right."

"Yeah, right." I responded sassily, crossing my arms over my chest. "Now, I've got a sound check to get to. Feel free to stay for the show, Ry." I told him setting the iPod onto the armrest of the sofa. I made my way to the door, letting out a breath of relief at the thought that I'd finally said it all out loud- well, at least some of it. Maybe now things would start to fall into place.

"He's no good for you Stell."

Or maybe not.

I paused, hand on the doorknob and freaking GOD, my life was a bad movie, "I never said he was, Ryan. But I think he's for me, and that's all that matters to me right now."