Love Is Stronger Than Gravity

Waking up the next morning was anything but enjoyable. I was still strewn across the bathroom floor, some drool on my chin from how I had passed out with my mouth open. My entire body ached as I rolled over, my eyes fluttering as light from the window above the toilet shone brightly, right into my face. When I sat up, I instantly regretted it because my head immediately felt like it was going to explode at any second. I groaned loudly, running my hand through my tangled hair. My clothes were all twisted around and wrinkled and I smelled like booze and weed. Carefully, I began to stand up, grabbing the sink counter to steady my stumbling limbs. When I looked into the mirror, I flinched at my disastrous appearance. Without hesitation, I stripped myself of the clothes from last night and jumped into the shower, washing away all the filth and grime from the night before.

Once I was clean, I turned off the shower and climbed out, wrapping a fluffy, white towel around my body. I walked back to my room and threw on some flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt, tossing my wet hair into a pony tail. I took a few Ibuprofen to help calm my pulsating head and wandered downstairs into the kitchen, my feet dragging down the stairs and across the floor. When I got into the kitchen, the phone was still in the middle of the floor, the dial tone beeping. I picked it up just as the automated voice service spoke.

“If you’d like to make a call please hang up and t-“

I hung up the phone and put it back into its cradle. The thought of food alone made me want to puke, so I grabbed myself a glass of water and sat down in the living room in front of the TV, not even turning the black box on. I hadn't had so much to drink in so long that I’d forgotten how bad a hangover could be. Back in high school, I went to so many parties and drank so much, I rarely ever got hangovers. But it’s been nearly two years since then and the amount of alcohol that’s passed through my lips has been the minimal amount from New Year’s Eve parties and the occasional sip of wine at dinner that my parents allowed.

I wasn’t planning on doing anything today, or maybe even ever. I just wanted to sit and mope about until my headache went away and my stomach no longer felt like it was doing continuous 360s.

“Knock knock!” I screamed at the loud shout behind me, my flail sending me a foot in the air, nearly tossing myself off of the couch.

“How did you get into my house Barakat?” I groaned, placing a hand on my racing heart, settling back down into the couch, one hand on my once again aching head.

“You Marino’s are not very creative. Spare key under the welcome mat? You guys are just asking to be robbed.”

Jack kicked off his Nike’s and made his way into the living room, jumping over the back of the couch and plopping down next to me.

“How are you feeling Daisy-Doo?”

I groaned, burying my face into his shoulder. “Can you please not shout? God, use your inside voice Jack.”

He chuckled, patting my back sympathetically. “I guess that answers my question.”

“Next time I want to drink, please remind me of this exact moment.”

“Sure thing, babe,” Jack chuckled, turning his attention to the TV. “Were you really just sitting here staring at the TV?”

I nodded my head gently, “I didn’t want to turn it on and have to hear voices.”

Jack rolled his eyes with a chuckle and grabbed the remote off of the coffee table, turning the TV on and turning to the ESPN channel.

“I am not watching football, Jack. You know I hate it.”

“What American hates football? That’s like the President saying he doesn’t like the United States.”

“Not everyone likes watching a bunch of sweaty men run back and forth, slamming into each other and throwing a ball left and right.”

“That sounds like the dream I had last night.”

I scrunched my nose and pulled away from him, pushing his arm off of my shoulders. “You’re disgusting.”

He laughed at me, rustling my hair before turning back to the game. I had no idea who was winning, or even who was playing. All I knew was the one team was green and white and one team was white and teal. All other information was non-existent in my mind; sports were not my thing. They never were. All through my school years, I was the last picked for the dodge ball team, the one people kept the ball away from during volleyball, and the one that always got out first in dodgeball. I was more of the artist person; writing, painting, drawing, etc.

“What are you doing here anyway?” I finally asked.

“Last night, when you stopped answering Alex and Ellie on the phone, Ellie was convinced you had been killed by some ax murderer,” I rolled my eyes because that sounded like such a typical Ellie assumption. “So, first thing this morning, she called your cell phone, which you didn’t answer and then your house phone, which was busy, and then she kicked me out of her house and demanded I come over here and be sure that no bad man was stuffing you into a hole in your backyard six feet underground.”

“You guys are ridiculous.”

“Tell that to my psycho girlfriend,” Jack laughed. “Speaking of which, she is demanding that I get you to come out to breakfast with all of us.”

“And by all of us…”

“I mean me, Ellie, Rian, Zack, Alex, and of course, you.”

I grimaced, “I’ll plass.”

“Ellie told me you’d say that.”

“Did she now?”

“Well, no. She told me you’d refuse to go, but tomato, tamato. The point is, you’re coming.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms defiantly. “Over your dead body.”

“Daisy, come on.”

“I’m not sure if you remember much of last night Jack, but let me refresh your memory,” I snapped. “Alex flipped a shit when he saw me, rightfully so. He was the literal definition of ‘if looks could kill’. It was a disaster and I don’t plan on having a repeat any time soon.”

“I think you’re exaggerating a bit.”

“I believe ’I want nothing to do with her’ were his exact words,” I replied, tapping my chin as though I was in deep thought. “I’m not going and that’s final.”



“Jack! Daisy! Over here!”

Jack glided past me and headed towards the table where Ellie was seated with everyone, but I didn’t move a muscle. Instead, I just stood with my arms crossed and a sour look on my face, looking straight ahead. I was acting like a proper brat but I told Jack I didn’t want to come but the kid just doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. His solution for my refusing to come, was to throw me over his shoulder, stuff me in the backseat of his car, and drive off as fast as he could, before I had the chance to make an escape.

“Dasiy,” Jack called, but I just ignored him. He’s the one that kidnapped me and forced me to come here; now he was gonna have to deal with my attitude. “Dasiy, let’s go.”

“No.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re an asshole,” I retorted, sticking my nose up in the air.

“Stop throwing a temper tantrum and come sit down.”

“No.”

I heard a heavy sigh and then suddenly I was being thrown over a shoulder, and Jack’s butt was in my face once again as I hung over his boney shoulder. I yelped in surprise, all the blood rushing to head.

“Jack! Put me down!”

“I gave you the option to walk and you didn’t take it. So now, I’m carrying you to our table.”

“I swear to God Jack, if you don’t put me down, I will grab your dick and wrap it around your legs so tight, you’ll be wheel-chair bound for the rest of your miserable life.”

I let out an ‘oof’ as Jack threw me into a chair, not so coincidentally across from Alex.

“Happy?” Jack smirked, taking the seat next to Ellie, who was seated across the table next to Alex.

“I fucking hate you.”

“Well, I can see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Ellie remarked, the humor evident in her voice.

“This is your fault,” I grumbled, leaning back into the uncomfortable, wood chair with my arms crossed once again.

“How is your grumpy attitude my-“

“No, it’s your fault I’m here. You’re the one that told Jack it was okay to use physical force to get me here.”

Ellie turned to Jack, “I didn’t say that!”

Jack faked a surprise look, “You didn’t? Oh, silly me.”

I rolled my eyes, not even slightly humored by Jack’s personality at the moment. Ellie and Jack carried into their own conversation, looking at the large diner menu. I chose to stare down at the glass of water sitting on the table in front of me, the condensation dripping down the glass and onto the white table cloth. I could feel his eyes burning holes into my head and it took every last but of self-control I had not to look up.

“Hey.”

I looked over at Rian as he nudged my shoulder with his arm, his sympathetic smile spreading out across his face.

“Hi,” I mumbled, offering him a slight smile in return.

“So, this must be pretty awkward for you,” he said, his eyes glancing over to Alex for a spit second, before meeting mine again.

“You have no idea,” I said, shaking my head slightly.

He smiled at me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “We all make mistakes, Dais.”

“None as bad as mine though.”

“You’d be surprised.”

I looked up at him as he offered me another perfect grin, his hand squeezing my shoulder comfortably.

“Where’s Zack?” Jack spoke, breaking the silence that had settled over the table.

“He texted me earlier and said he was too hung over to come,” Ellie shrugged, taking a sip of her water.

I threw my hands up, rolling my eyes. “Then why the hell did I have to come?”

“Because I said so,” Ellie shrugged.

I groaned, rolling my head around, laying my forehead on my arms resting on the table.

“Oh, suck it up, you baby. You’re acting like this is the first hangover you’ve ever gotten,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes playfully.

It was more than that though. Sure, my hangover wasn’t doing anything to help this already uncomfortable situation, but honestly, I don’t even feel as bad as I did earlier this morning. Now, it’s more about the fact that I’m sitting in a diner, tired and sick, across from my ex-boyfriend who I cheated on and whom completely hates my guts. This was like an episode of The Hills more than anything and I hate that stupid show. I took a big sigh and sat up, picking up my water and taking a big gulp. I shifted in my seat, swiping a hand through my bangs just as the waiter arrived to the table.

He pulled out a small notepad and a pen, looking at us expectantly. “So, what will everyone have tonight?”

I settled on a small plate of pancakes and eggs, and after everyone placed their orders and the waiter walked away, the table was left in an awkward silence. No one knew what to say, obviously because of Alex and me.

Finally, Ellie broke the silence, trying to look as peppy as possible.

“So, guys, how’s the band going?”

That sparked my interest. I wasn’t even aware any of the guys were in a band.

“You guys have a band?” I asked no one in particular.

“Yep!” Jack answered. “We’re just playing a bunch of covers right now, but pretty soon we’ll be selling out arenas across America.” He smiled, looking up into the air as though he was daydreaming.

“You look surprised.”

I snapped my eyes over to Alex, who sat with his arms crossed across his chest, his eyes watching me carefully.

I nodded my head, “I-I am, I guess. I just didn’t think you guys were serious about anything.”

“I take a lot of things seriously,” Alex responded.

We held eye contact for a second longer than I’d like, before I looked away, blinking to clear my mind. Obviously, he’s trying to play some mind games with me, and they were working.

“So, what instrument do you play, Jack? You seem like the tambourine type of guy,” I smirk.

“Tambourine? Pah-lease. That’s for pussies, Daisy,” Jack said, clicking his lips together and pretending to flip his hair over his shoulder.

“Triangle?”

He deadpanned, sending me a look. “You’re not funny.”

I smirked, rolling my eyes. “So what do you play, oh Great One?”

“Oh Great One? I like that,” he smirked, looking over at Ellie. “Why don’t you call me that?”

She scoffed, pushing his face away from hers. “In your dreams, Barakat.”

He laughed, turning back to me. “Guitar; I play guitar.”

I nodded my head, “Nice.”

“Nice? Guitarist aren’t nice, Daisy. We’re fucking badass. There’s going to be girls on their knees begging to blow me.” Ellie looked over at Jack, clearing her throat. “What? You can’t disappoint the fans, babe.” Her gaze didn’t falter, and he sighed dramatically, throwing his arms across the back of her chair. “Fine. I’ll just have to settle for signing boobs every night,” he shrugged, smirking widely.

I scoffed, a laugh leaving my lips. “Right, and while you’re at it you can collect bras and hang them over your mic stand.”

His eyes went wide and his draw dropped and he leaned forward on the table, looking like a little kid in a candy shop. “Do you think I could actually do that?”

“You sign one pair of boobs or touch a single bra that isn’t mine Jack and you can call yourself single.” Ellie looked over at Jack as he playfully glared at her.

Alex finally came into the conversation, making a whipping noise while moving his hands as though he had a whip, laughing at the glare that Jack sent his way.

“Right, well, Mr. and Mrs. Ricardo, if two are done bickering now,” Rian joked, “I’d like to actually talk about serious shit.”

“Don’t say shit, Rian. We’re at the breakfast table,” Jack said, scoffing.

“Two seconds ago you were talking about pussies and boobs!”

“I wasn’t talking about pussies or boobs! I called tambourine players pussies and I said that I was going to signing boobs.”

“You also mentioned something about blowjobs,” Alex chimed in.

“Okay, okay, can we please stop talking about body parts,” Ellie said, waving her hands in the air. “We’re getting some serious glares from some parents right now.”

“Blowjobs aren’t body parts, Ellie,” Jack smirked, “If you’d like to know what a blowjob is, I’m sure I could sh-”

“Shut it, Barakat!”

Our food arrived then, and we settled into a comfortable silence, each digging into our plates. I wasn’t very hungry, but a couple bites wouldn’t hurt. I leaned forward, reaching for the small jar of pepper, unfortunately, at the same time that Alex did.

His hand wrapped around mine, as my hand grabbed the shaker. Our eyes met and we stared at each other for a moment, a blank expression on both of our faces. I pulled my hand back quickly, clearing my throat.

“Um, you can, uh, use it first, I-I guess,” I said, picking up my fork and moving my eggs around.

Yup. I can check ‘awkward breakfast with ex-boyfriend’ off my non-existent bucket list.