Forget About It

I never took the time to explain to Joelle or anyone else that I had met Jack, nor that I went on a date with anyone whether in Cleveland or at home.

In a way it made me feel wanted that Jack went on a date with me, but on the other hand, it was Jack Barakat who we are talking about. He is handsome, cute, original, funny, tall, has amazing brown eyes, and that lopsided smile, and the rough hands that still give you goose bumps everywhere, and he’s a rockstar – hold up.

He is a rockstar. Jack Barakat probably has been on plenty of dates with girls in the past and I’m just a one-day thing. He doesn’t remember me; he doesn’t even have my number to remember me in the first place.

I am still on the plane ride home, but I’d be getting off the thing in less than ten minutes, well only if it could dock any faster. I don’t mind planes; I just really hate flying with a bunch of cocky, wanna-be VIP passengers, who stand up as soon as the plane stops.

This plane just carried over 500 people across the damn ocean, not everyone is going to instantly be able to get out first! I sighed and rolled my eyes.

I waited at least another ten minutes until I got up from my seat and took my handbags out of the overhead shelve and scrolled into the well-known airport. The way to my second flight of the day was easy, since I’ve done it before. I’ve landed in Amsterdam a number of times and even though the airport is always crowded with strangers from all over the world, it was easy to find your way around.

Amsterdam is crazy, but not impossible.

My mind wandered back to Jack as it has for a number of times in the past six days. He is so perfect and I’m – well I’m just forgotten. I found a seat at my next gate and smiled a small smile. What if he did remember me? The thought wandered through my head, but soon enough smashed against a wall. I am a fan. A fan of a rockstar, he will not ever choose me either way. Jack Barakat was just being nice to me. Slightly sadder I pulled out my iPhone and plugged the headphones in. Fall Out Boy blasted into my head and the all-too familiar lyrics filled my head – for a mere second or so.

Some girls, sitting over a few rows, were starring at me and whispering stuff to each other. I ignored it just like all the other times this happened, but something seemed to be different with those three than usually. I shook my head and went back to play with my beloved iPhone.
Twitter was a usual routine of my day. I wasn’t crazily obsessed with it, like when I first got my account two or three years back and stalked every cool band member I liked at the moment. Nowadays, I had my own bunch of followers, friends and strangers that I now keep updating with my life. I posted a quick update that I was almost home and then scrolled through some tweets of the people I follow.

One stood out immensely. Not because it was addressed to me, no because it was all so familiar.

AlexAllTimeLow: Jack just bought a small red goldfish and named him Bruce Lee. Should I be worried?

Butterflies began twirling in my stomach and a big smile spread across my face. On a quick dare I had told Jack about how I would buy a goldfish and name him Bruce Lee because that would be badass. I closed the twitter app and sighed. It was just a lousy date, nothing more.

Soon it was time to board my last flight home, a bus shuttle took me and several other guests to the miniature plane and after half an hour of lots of chaos, the seventy-something people finally found their seats and we were ready to take-off.

I couldn’t wait to land at home, a small city on the border to nothing, and to see my parents and friends again.

~

Paula picked me up from the airport and drove me, and my two suitcases to my apartment.

“Anything exciting happen?” I knew she could read me like an open book, but I wouldn’t spill this to her. It’s my and Jack’s little secret.

“Ehm, not much. Lots of concerts, shopping obviously and stupid stuff.” I smiled.

“Come on, you’re hiding something.” She raised her eyebrows at me, “Like something is on your mind.”

I shook my head, deciding if I should tell my best friend of forever the truth or if I should lie right to her face. I glanced over at her, mustering her features. The summer had her get a freshly new tan, that made her brown long hair look flatly amazing and her white shirt and jeans shorts framed her curves beautifully. To say the least, she could have any guy she wanted. “I’m just jet-lagged.”

Paula laughed and turned up the music. We sang along to Jared Leto and One Republic, letting the summer air rush through her VW Lupo windows and our hair playing with the wind. I love summer and I really loved this summer so far and it wasn’t even remotely close to being over yet. I’d be home for a week before Leone, Paula and I were going to our favorite summer music festival.

“Did you get your eyes on anyone hot?”

Paula ripped me out of the thoughts. I smiled at her and my brain once again replayed the memory of Jack and I a few days ago. “No one yet.”

She sighed and I already new where she was going with this conversation. We’ve been through this subject loads of times since last winter break, but she won’t let loose. Stubborn vs. Stubborn. I don’t understand her point of view, so I just sighed and waited for her newly formed question this time. “How much longer are you planning on living with him?”

“I don’t know,” I really didn’t, we, as in my ex-boyfriend and I, are still really good friends and I am pretty sure that good friends can live in an apartment together, right? My mom doesn’t mind, his mom doesn’t mind, I don’t mind and Marc doesn’t mind either.

Paula just nodded, probably not having a witty comeback or finally accepting that I really don’t want to discuss the matter of where and who I live with. She parked her car in the courtyard and I checked myself in the mirror. I looked tired, slight rings under my green eyes and no make up on. My bleach blonde hair falling past my chest and my bangs pushed back. I never really tanned in the summer. Yeah I got somewhat darker skin, but not like Paula. But it never really mattered to me, I liked the way my hair bleached out, and my skin was pretty white. I opened the car door and hopped outside to unlock the apartment before I would get my luggage from the trunk of Paula’s silver car. I didn’t even make it to the front door before a body engulfed me in a huge hug. I loved his hugs, the welcoming back squeeze and the cologne he wears all the time.

“Hey,” his voice whispered against my ear, sending goose bumps down my back even though it was probably over 30 degrees outside. I smiled into his shoulder, glad to be welcomed by him so fast.

“I missed you,” I whispered back, so lowly I wasn’t sure he picked it up and afraid that Paula would. I moved back to our slightly way too long hug and took a look at Marc. He didn’t change much, still wearing his plaid boy shorts and a loose white sleeveless shirt. His hair still a midnight black and short and his eyes blue as ever.

I just lost all my mind preparations to meet him again. All the hard work of maybe trying to let him go. But deep down I knew, that Marc would stay a piece of my heart forever.