We're Stuck Halfway

It had been exactly a week since the mishap of the lost notebook, and Holly was more than certain that she would never see it again. She gave up on looking for it the same day she realized it was lost, but it didn’t mean that she lost hope in it being returned to her.

She gave it seven days before she truly lost all her optimism, though minimal, on the matter. She was in despair, Jesse’s ‘happy’ mixtape leaving her unaffected as she slammed the door of her Mini Cooper shut, trudging her way towards the front door of the oak house.

There was a tiny, extremely small chance that she wouldn’t be haunted by its loss. Who was she kidding? She had nightmares about Charlie reading her aimless poems; the reality of some stranger reading her thoughts and memories made her mind hazy and her lungs heavy.

She closed her eyes, inhaling as she counted to three and exhaling as she counted to eight. It was the breathing pattern she used to avoid panic attacks. The paper bag was what she used when it was too late for the pattern to save her.

The roar of a motorcycle engine running caught her attention. They usually zoomed by the houses, never lingering. She curiously turned her head, just in time to watch a man get off the bike, shutting it off and stomping his foot down on the stand.

“May I help you?” Holly asked very carefully. Her pounding heart settled down as she noticed the box in his hands, his bright orange jumpsuit giving him the impression of a delivery man.

He was probably there to deliver something meant for Charlie, Holly figured, knowing that – even if her best friend hardly admitted it – she was gorgeous and had a million of admirers sending her all kinds of gifts: from bouquets to postcards to cheesy poems copied off Hallmark cards.

Charlie might’ve been flirting with Alex for a week already, but it didn’t mean that she went around telling people that they were together. She was technically still single, so Holly wouldn’t have been surprised if the package was indeed for her.

The delivery man smiled at Holly. “Yes, actually…” He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand and asked, “Are you Holly Price?” He wiped his brow. “I think I’ve got the wrong place, though, so I’ll just look around if you ain’t her.”

Holly sent him a questioning look, walking towards him. She lifted the sunglasses from her face to see the paper more clearly, making sure that it did have ‘Holly Price’ written in print on the sticker.

It did, and she signed the papers hastily, wishing the man a safe drive as she flounced back to the door.

She studied the box as she shut the front door and turned the lights on. She dropped her bag on the way, too engrossed in trying to decipher whose writing it was on the mail label to care about almost dropping it on the cactus in the living room. She set the thermostat and ripped the tape from the box even before she knelt, facing the coffee table.

Was someone actually returning the notebook to her?

But she didn’t even bother to write down her name nor her address on the notebook. She never thought that she would turn out as irresponsible as that.

She shook her head, closing her eyes to clear her mind.

No one was returning anything to her.

She pulled the flaps of the box open, reaching inside to get past the Styrofoam bits. She held her breath as she located the object inside, gripping on something as big as her notebook.

But it wasn’t her Moleskine. Someone was giving something to her.

She lifted it, running her fingers over its surface. It wasn’t hers. It was too smooth, too delicate to have been the notebook she used for almost three years straight.

She then flipped it over, handling it with care. It looked like her notebook, yes, but the gold trimming at the sides gave it away. It was a new Moleskine notebook, covered with silk, a hint of gold used for the trimming and the bookmark.

“What the hell?” she whispered. She scrambled to open it up, looking for a hint of whoever gave it to her; the thick Italian paper was free of any writings from the sender.

Who knew of her address and knew that she lost her notebook?

She didn’t tell her parents a thing, and Charlie was too busy on fussing over the lost Moleskine to order a new one.

It was from Jesse.

Jesse.

She groaned and tilted the box next to her on the floor, causing Styro to drop everywhere. She found a piece of parchment paper right away, almost smiling despite the flame that wanted to erupt from her heart.

O, Holly, my Holly,
You’re fuming as you’re reading this, I know. I can imagine you imagining killing me with a few slaps using your new silk Moleskine.
You’re just the type to do so. You’re the type that I love.
Anyway, I know how much that notebook meant to you, so I decided to buy you a new one. I had it personally made, personally engraved, actually, (your name’s embedded on the first page if you didn’t notice – with contact details this time around) and I hope, with all my heart, that you use it amidst the howling of your ice-cold heart.
By now, hopefully, you’re used to my drama.
I love you so much, Olly. You’re amazing.
Please call me as soon as you’re finished reading this.
Jesse

Holly put the letter down, unable to suppress the smile that escaped from within her. Her words were lost, but it was finally time to create new ones.

It was time to create with a notebook that wasn’t from him.

She sucked in a breath. She certainly did not mean to write about him.



Garrett was scared to death.

He found himself pacing back and forth, unlocking and locking his phone from time to time, checking and rechecking to make sure his settings were put to vibrate even when on speaker.

He was in his band’s flat in downtown Phoenix. Even if they all still had their own rooms in their parents’ houses, they rented the apartment for a common place to gather around near their management studios, Eighty One Twenty Three. Adding to that, they liked the idea of having a place to write and just think without anyone to shout at them. They even took turns in going to the supermarket every week.

After a few anxious minutes, he finally sat himself down, his legs weakening and giving away. He set the phone on the table and watched it intently, whipping his head to the door so fast that he almost cracked his neck.

Kennedy raised his hands in apology, walking over to the fridge noisily. Garrett knew it was on purpose to get on his nerves. Kenney had been playing with Garrett’s nerves ever since he dated Garrett’s cousin four years ago.

Garrett reached out towards his phone as Kennedy emerged from the fridge, beer in hand. “What’s with the snarky attitude and the beer?”

Kennedy rolled his eyes, sitting down on the chair next to Garrett’s. He took his time before answering, pulling the tab of the beer can and taking a large swig from it. “It’s six in the evening, and I feel like an absolute shithead. How about you? What’s with the angst going on with the neck cracking?”

Garrett eyed the phone in his hands, mentally stabbing Matty repeatedly for being delayed. A week was almost up; he gave Matty only a couple more hours before he released his fume. “Awaiting a call,” he replied. None of his bandmates knew of his ‘mission’ on getting Holly’s notebook back to her. They probably assumed that he was keeping it for himself like a dickhead.

A minute passed, and it was as if a telepathic signal was released, because Kennedy brought up what Garrett had wanted to avoid so badly. “Anyway, are you giving Holly her notebook back? Because if no, you’re a douche.”

Garrett opened his mouth to reply, but Kennedy cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“But it’s not going to say much because I’m a douche myself. I’m probably the king douche of all the douchiest douchebags ever living in this solar system.” He looked at Garrett, groaning. “Goddammit, I’m the Palpatine of the Milky Way.” He huffued, adding, “Well, the douche part of him, not the freakishly smart mastermind side. I’m a dumbass.”

“At least you admit it,” Garrett said. He was enjoying how his friend managed to correctly reference to Star Wars. Then he thought about what he was previously supposed to reply, remembering the question thrown at him. “And, yes, I am returning the notebook to Holly. It’s just a very long process.”

“So that makes you a Seth Cohen.”

Garrett raised an eyebrow. “Seth Cohen isn’t from Star Wars.” Kennedy couldn’t have been drunk already, he wasn’t a lightweight. None of his friends were – well, except for Pat, but it was because he didn’t drink as much. How he managed to jump from Star Wars to the O.C. in a matter of seconds puzzled Garrett.

“I know, asshole. Fuck, no, you can’t be Seth. That just made you Vader,” Kennedy replied, looking at his hands like they were a different kind of species altogether.

Garrett shook his head. Kennedy wasn’t drunk, just hazy. He was like that when a groupie turned him down for John. His ego didn’t like to get wounded. “Is it about a girl?”

Kennedy let his hands fall, looking at Garrett sadly. “Leigh. She… Annalise’s wedding is two days, right? Well… Leigh was supposed to have her bridesmaid dress’ final alterations a while ago, after her nap from yoga. I forgot to wake her.”

“Shit.” Garrett had to admit, that was a very dumbass move for Kennedy. It was him who always complained of how forgetful the rest of the band was; that was pure hypocrisy.

“And, I was supposed to be her date on that day, but she said that since Annalise isn’t forgiving me for it, either, I’m done for- crossed out of the list, like I wasn’t even fuckin’ invited and readying my suit for that day.”

Garrett wasn’t the guy for that kind of talk. He liked having honest conversations with his buds, but comforting them about girl problems wasn’t his forte. He couldn’t handle his own problems, so how could he handle theirs?

But maybe Garrett wanted to be more than Darth Vader. He didn’t want to be good and then bad and then switch back to good at the last minute – he wanted to be Seth Cohen, the all-around good guy, so he tried to comfort Kennedy anyway.

“You know, Leighton was always a softy. She can’t stay mad at you like you can’t stay mad at her as well. You’re best friends who tell each other almost every single shit thing.” He smiled, remembering something. “It might interest you to know that for prom, my mom made me wear Trey’s suit. She brought me to Tempe near ASU to some quick alterations place. You should bring Leigh there tomorrow after her classes to patch things up. She’ll love you again.”

Kennedy smiled weakly in response. “That’s actually a great idea, but the thing is, it’s the ‘test of her life’ tomorrow. She made a point to tell me that during our minute call. She said she had no time to cuss me out since she was studying.”

Garrett scoffed. “Wait for her, then! Tell her you’ll be waiting outside the campus, give her a good luck kiss or something. God, Ken, I don’t have to do any thinking for you. You’re just lazy.”

It hurt to know how easy it’d be for Kennedy to fix things with Leighton. If only Holly had done something like that, she’d still be in his arms. But Garrett reminded himself that what she did led to more good things; he met Selina. Something good – great – amazing came out of their break-up. He had to thank her for that.

Both Garrett and Kennedy jumped up as The Imperial March started to play, the phone in Garrett’s hands vibrating persistently.

“See, you are Vader! What the hell!” Kennedy was laughing as Garrett rushed to stand up and answer the call, but he didn’t do it discreetly enough, since Kennedy stopped chuckling. “Why is Matty Philips calling you?”

Matty did all the dirty work, and it was meant in a much more literal way. Garrett assured Kennedy that it was different for his case, promising that he’d explain as soon as the call ended.

“Anything new?” he asked into the receiver, trying to keep his voice steady and audible enough. He didn’t want Kennedy to be able to listen in.

Matty only chuckled, and Garrett could tell over the phone that he’d already had something to drink. “Calm down, Nicko, I’ve got your address. I’ve got the address of your dear, dear, dear Ms. Price. It’s written on this paper right now,” he replied in a sing-song voice.

Garrett held back a curse. The only reason he was being nice to Matty and allowing him to call him 'Nicko' was because the address was too important. He couldn’t risk the agreement being called off then and there. Matty reminded Garrett that he owed him another thirty dollars before finally talking about the address.

“Go get a pen ‘cause I might have to map it out for you since it’s in Glendale.”



“You are unbelievable, Jesse Dylan Eckhart,” was the first thing Holly said as her call was picked up on the second ring.

Jesse literally gasped from over the line. “Not even a thank you? Seriously? Are you kidding me?”

Holly lied down on the couch, mindlessly running her fingers over the silk notebook over and over and over again. “One thing I hate about dating you is that I can’t tell whether you’re being sarcastic or serious. You’re such an actor!”

He shifted on the other side of the line, the background noise disappearing in an instant. “Is that a bad thing?”

“If it means that you’ll be on the other side of the earth more often, yes,” Holly said. She ached everywhere, missing how she fit in with him like a puzzle piece in the mornings and nights and afternoons.

Jesse sighed. “About that…” He trailed off, and all Holly wanted just then was his breath on her neck, his hand clutching hers tightly.

She flipped over on her side, wanting that to become a reality on the couch she was on. The light in the living room was dim, her bare feet shivering without cover. She wanted his warmth. She wanted him. “You don’t need to tell me now,” she whispered.

He released a grunt. “No, no, I want to tell you now, but…” She could imagine him closing his eyes as he uttered his next words. “The pilot of the TV show I acted in was approved.”

She smiled, the clutch she had on her phone relaxing. “Then that’s great!”

“Thank you.” He took a breath. “But it’s also about a modern-day knight, and I have to be all over Europe next month.”

“Oh.” She covered her mouth with another hand, not meaning to release the slightest whimper. She didn’t want him to feel sad for earning a new acting gig. He deserved it as a promising actor.

It was just getting to her how hard her life was going to be starting then.

They told her and warned her that Jesse would be away even more than Garrett was, but she refused to listen. She told herself that they could make it work, that they were more than what others thought, more than the conventional Hollywood couple.

She said those same words to Garrett when The Maine got signed to their big label. He agreed on making it work, but for some reason it still went to shit, no matter how hard she tried.

“Holly?” Jesse’s voice was soft, and how sad it sounded broke Holly’s heart. She didn’t want to be his liability. He was an underrated actor, and she wanted him to be able to prove to the rest of Hollywood that he was better than the average.

She held the notebook close to her heart, smiling again. Her and Jesse would be able to do it. She knew. “I’m still here.”

“I don’t want to go-”

“You’ll be lying if you complete that statement,” she said. “You do want to go and star in the show, but you don’t want to leave me here in America. But you know what? I’ll be okay as long as you call me. We’re meeting each other in New York two weeks from now, and that’s all I’m worrying about.”

Jesse’s voice brightened again; she was glad. “Alright, you know what? I’ll make reservations for that night. We’ll have a grand dinner in some fancy-schmancy restaurant without our parents- let the whole world know that you are my one and only woman, not Jennifer Lawrence, and certainly not Nina Dobrev. It’s you, Holly. You’re worth the price.”

She laughed, almost snorting. She hated it when he used her last name as a corny pun. She’d heard enough of them from her dad’s advertising campaign. “No way, José-”

“My name’s Jesse. Goddammit, Olly, get it right!”

She snorted that time, cussing in the process. Jesse was her medication, her drug to get away from everything. “My mom’s going to kill you. She’s gonna cook you in a melting pot then burry your bones in some poor person’s new estate.”

“Do you even listen to me? I told you, Price, you’re worth it. You’re worth every single chunk of meat inside of me.”



Despite the stare that Kennedy was sending him, Garrett felt really good. He had Holly’s new address mapped out in front of him on a piece of paper. It definitely was worth the forty bucks he lost.

“So, you’re telling me that you were desperate enough to get her address to contact Matty about it?” Kennedy asked. He’d sobered up from his haziness moments before, and Garrett was thankful. As much as he liked good Star Wars references, he wasn’t digging the gloomy attitude Kennedy was having.

Garrett nodded, tapping his fingertips on the hardwood table. “I… It’s not like I want to see her. I just feel that this avoiding thing has been going on for far too long. We’re grown adults now we- we can manage a good ‘ole talk. Right?”

“Eh, I don’t really think so,” Kennedy responded. “But if that’s what you feel, then go with your gut. No one’s stopping you.”

Garrett thought about it, but his silence was disturbed as the door to the flat flew open, revealing Jared and John – two of their bandmates. John was leaning on Jared, his arm slung around the other’s shoulders.

“What the hell?” Garrett and Kennedy asked in unison. It didn’t surprise them to see John leaning on Jared since that happened a lot; they were surprised at seeing the two there on a Thursday night. They usually had far more important things to do, being the eldest in the band.

Jared coughed, nodding at John once. He looked annoyed. “Well, remember our tour in Europe next month? This Century, A Rocket… they added another band to the line-up, said there were too little bands to cover the time slots they wanted.”

John took his arm off Jared sharply, almost hitting the other guy on the jaw. He trudged up the stairs as Jared glared at his back, sitting himself across Kennedy. The bang of a door slamming made them all cringe.

“I have a feeling I know who they added,” Garrett muttered, running his hands through his hair. It wasn’t good.

Kennedy shook his head in response. “The Exhiliarated.”

Jared nodded gloomily; they all knew what it meant.

John O’Callaghan, Skylar Mannings, and Joel Kanitz were three lead singers no band wanted together on their tour line-up. It was a pity only the band members behind the scenes knew that.