Status: I LUFF YOOHHHHH
She Slipped Away Again
She Slipped Away Again
She Slipped Away Again
The boy looked at her, wondering how he’d ever let her get away. Wondering if he’d ever get her back, if he’d be ever be able to face talking to her. He cursed himself, thinking, Why did I ever cheat? Why didn’t I think? Why, why, why? The only answer he could come up with was that he was drunk, and the girl looked very similar to her, but he couldn’t say with absolute certainty because, well, he was drunk that night.
She was over talking to some guy who was buying a CD. To the boy who’d lost her, it looked like a stupid way to flirt. To the girl who’d been lost, it looked like a chance to forget everything that had happened in the past month.
Forgetting everything always seemed like the best option to the girl. She’d go and get shitfaced, then come to the next morning in some unrecognizable apartment with some guy lying next to her, eyes closed, shirt off. She could never figure out what she’d done wrong, so she just forgot about the situation altogether.
The boy looked down at the CD he was holding. It was a Blink 182 CD that he’d already purchased. He’d gotten it the day after it came out. And only because he’d had to go to some family get together that was in the middle of nowhere. It seemed like an eternity had passed since he’d talked to the girl, and, coincidentally listened to the CD. It had been playing at the party when the girl walked in on him. He put it back bitterly.
Then, he started to walk around aimlessly, not knowing exactly what he was doing in the store, why he came, or why he was still there. All he could do was think about the happy times he’d shared with her, the funny inside jokes, the days they’d spent laying around doing nothing. The songs he’d sung to her, and most of all, the day they met. That was the first, and best, memory that he’d had of her.
“That’s perfect—wait! It’s a little higher on the left side, fix that!” The girl yelled, backing up into the sidewalk. People didn’t see her coming, and they had to walk quickly around her to keep walking. “There we go, that’s great! She walked back to her friends who’d just finished hanging up a sign advertising the acoustic show at the small coffee shop they’d worked at.
After the two girls had gone back inside to fix more cappuccinos for their customers, the blonde girl who was in charge of the whole operation walked back into the middle of the sidewalk, causing people to jump out of her way. One boy, looking down at the tweet he was about to send, didn’t see her, and two seconds later, they crashed into each other. Both were on the ground, one holding her head, the other grabbing his neck. They’d not been braced for the fall.
The brown haired boy looked at the girl, “Hey, you okay? Sorry about that.” He pushed himself up off of the ground. Once he was standing and his gray beanie had been put back into place on his head, he held out his hand for the girl to grab.
She rolled her eyes, not bothering to take his hand, instead, pushing herself up. “Yeah, I’m perfectly fine except I hit my head against the fucking concrete thanks to you,” she told him, annoyed at the fact that he wasn’t looking at where she was going.
“Okay, sorry, sorry, but it was sort of inconvenient of you to back into the sidewalk blocking everyone from walking to where they’re going.”
“It was sort of inconvenient of you to run into me,” she said, staring him directly in the eyes.
Instead of responding with a snide remark, the boy instead chose to ask about the acoustic show, “So can anybody play at that?” He pointed towards the sign, eyebrows raised.
She shrugged, “I guess, all I do is set up. I mean, if you’ve got something to play…whatever, you know?”
He nodded, and kept nodding, looking the girl up and down. “Do I have to sign up or something?”
“Follow me.” The girl led him inside and grabbed a clipboard that was on the counter next to the cash register. “Sign this and show up tomorrow, six on the dot.”
He took it, signed, and said, “I never caught your name.”
“That’s probably because I didn’t tell you, and you didn’t ask,” she said, and then walked away to the back of the store to grab some more coffee grounds, leaving the boy standing, dumbfounded. Nobody had ever walked away from him like that until then.
When she was in the back, she looked down at the clipboard that she’d forgotten to place back on the counter. “Nice to meet you, Alex Gaskarth.”
Alex had never really appreciated their meeting until after they’d broken up. It was weird, and when people asked how they’d met, he’d tell them, and they’d ask if that was really the story. Nobody could believe that he’d choose to go out with a girl who was so blatantly rude to him the day they’d met.
“Give me therapy, I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything, therapy, you were never a friend to me,” Alex sang, finishing up the song, and also ending the show. After the last chord rung out, he smiled into the mic, thanked everyone for putting up with his terrible singing—which wasn’t terrible at all—and got up off of the stool. The small crowd of young girls who’d shown up about halfway through the show stood up and started screaming for him.
He walked off, and, immediately, the group of girls ran over to him and giggled giddily while shoving CDs in his face to sign. Once they were satisfied, they took seats at a table that had a view of the boy. He walked over to the girl behind the counter.
“What can I get for you?” she asked in a monotone voice.
“I’d like a cup of black coffee, and your name.”
She looked up, sighed, smiled, and said, “Gracie.” She turned around and filled one of the coffee shop’s signature mugs with some dark roast.
As she handed him the cup, he said, “Gracie. Gracie. I like that name.”
She rolled her eyes, “You would.”
“I would?”
“You would.”
Alex walked around, up and down the aisles, trying to figure out a way to approach the girl that he’d dated for almost two years. He kept glancing out of the corner of his eye, all the while becoming more and more jealous of the guy talking to the girl who stood behind the counter of the record shop. She’d been talking to him for the past ten minutes, and though he didn’t know who the guy was, Alex kept thinking bad thoughts. He couldn’t stand seeing her conversing with some guy, already getting over the singer.
He stopped in front of the M section of the shop, going through the various CDs, he found Mayday Parade’s A Lesson In Romantics.
“Katie, don’t cry, I know you’re trying your hardest, and the hardest part is letting go of the nights we shared.” The stereo had been playing the song on repeat. Gracie’s best friend had just passed away, and Gracie had been crying the whole day.
“Hey, come here, come on, don’t cry. I’ve got you, calm down, shh.” Alex pulled the girl onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “Shh, everything’s going to be fine.”
He recalled that it was her favorite record. For almost two months, that was the only thing she could stand to listen to. He gave a small smile, remembering how she’d play Black Cat when she was cooking dinners for them. She’d always sing along and jump around.
He continued walking through the store. Soon enough, he was in the Y section.
“Come on, America, you can do better than that!” Josh Franceschi shouted into the microphone. Alex had been on tour, and it was the New York City date, so he thought he’d surprise Gracie and take her to one of his concerts.
He looked over and saw her laughing, her blue eyes twinkling as the lights shone over them. Her newly green hair had been piled into a bun on the top of her head, and she was wearing a gray top over black jeans. He always noticed how she dressed. It looked like she threw everything on, not caring what she looked like, but it all seemed to work.
Slowly, he reached his hand out, taking hers. She jumped, but looked over and smiled at him, leaning in as the band played Fireworks.
He came back to reality. He’d been zoning out a lot the past two weeks. Gracie had disappeared from her post behind the counter, and was replaced by a guy in his thirties. Alex looked around, trying to find the blonde. He couldn’t see her.
Suddenly, he felt as if he wasn’t supposed to be there, that it was a big waste of time. He looked down at his phone. The display read 4:23. He was officially late for sound check, and knew that Matt would yell at him for being late. He took off down the center aisle, and got to the steps leading up to the counter. He passed, looking to the right to get a glimpse of the girl that he’d once known. Soon, he realized that she was gone, and walked out of the shop.
On the sidewalk, he paused to think of which way he had come from. He thought it was left, but then remembered that it was the opposite way. He turned to walk, and spotted the girl coming out of the back door of the shop. He paused for a moment before walking toward her, not sure of what he could say.
In that moment, there was a passing of eye contact, a small nod from the girl, and then a wall of people between the two. A moment later, the wall disappeared, and with it, the girl.
The boy looked at her, wondering how he’d ever let her get away. Wondering if he’d ever get her back, if he’d be ever be able to face talking to her. He cursed himself, thinking, Why did I ever cheat? Why didn’t I think? Why, why, why? The only answer he could come up with was that he was drunk, and the girl looked very similar to her, but he couldn’t say with absolute certainty because, well, he was drunk that night.
She was over talking to some guy who was buying a CD. To the boy who’d lost her, it looked like a stupid way to flirt. To the girl who’d been lost, it looked like a chance to forget everything that had happened in the past month.
Forgetting everything always seemed like the best option to the girl. She’d go and get shitfaced, then come to the next morning in some unrecognizable apartment with some guy lying next to her, eyes closed, shirt off. She could never figure out what she’d done wrong, so she just forgot about the situation altogether.
The boy looked down at the CD he was holding. It was a Blink 182 CD that he’d already purchased. He’d gotten it the day after it came out. And only because he’d had to go to some family get together that was in the middle of nowhere. It seemed like an eternity had passed since he’d talked to the girl, and, coincidentally listened to the CD. It had been playing at the party when the girl walked in on him. He put it back bitterly.
Then, he started to walk around aimlessly, not knowing exactly what he was doing in the store, why he came, or why he was still there. All he could do was think about the happy times he’d shared with her, the funny inside jokes, the days they’d spent laying around doing nothing. The songs he’d sung to her, and most of all, the day they met. That was the first, and best, memory that he’d had of her.
“That’s perfect—wait! It’s a little higher on the left side, fix that!” The girl yelled, backing up into the sidewalk. People didn’t see her coming, and they had to walk quickly around her to keep walking. “There we go, that’s great! She walked back to her friends who’d just finished hanging up a sign advertising the acoustic show at the small coffee shop they’d worked at.
After the two girls had gone back inside to fix more cappuccinos for their customers, the blonde girl who was in charge of the whole operation walked back into the middle of the sidewalk, causing people to jump out of her way. One boy, looking down at the tweet he was about to send, didn’t see her, and two seconds later, they crashed into each other. Both were on the ground, one holding her head, the other grabbing his neck. They’d not been braced for the fall.
The brown haired boy looked at the girl, “Hey, you okay? Sorry about that.” He pushed himself up off of the ground. Once he was standing and his gray beanie had been put back into place on his head, he held out his hand for the girl to grab.
She rolled her eyes, not bothering to take his hand, instead, pushing herself up. “Yeah, I’m perfectly fine except I hit my head against the fucking concrete thanks to you,” she told him, annoyed at the fact that he wasn’t looking at where she was going.
“Okay, sorry, sorry, but it was sort of inconvenient of you to back into the sidewalk blocking everyone from walking to where they’re going.”
“It was sort of inconvenient of you to run into me,” she said, staring him directly in the eyes.
Instead of responding with a snide remark, the boy instead chose to ask about the acoustic show, “So can anybody play at that?” He pointed towards the sign, eyebrows raised.
She shrugged, “I guess, all I do is set up. I mean, if you’ve got something to play…whatever, you know?”
He nodded, and kept nodding, looking the girl up and down. “Do I have to sign up or something?”
“Follow me.” The girl led him inside and grabbed a clipboard that was on the counter next to the cash register. “Sign this and show up tomorrow, six on the dot.”
He took it, signed, and said, “I never caught your name.”
“That’s probably because I didn’t tell you, and you didn’t ask,” she said, and then walked away to the back of the store to grab some more coffee grounds, leaving the boy standing, dumbfounded. Nobody had ever walked away from him like that until then.
When she was in the back, she looked down at the clipboard that she’d forgotten to place back on the counter. “Nice to meet you, Alex Gaskarth.”
Alex had never really appreciated their meeting until after they’d broken up. It was weird, and when people asked how they’d met, he’d tell them, and they’d ask if that was really the story. Nobody could believe that he’d choose to go out with a girl who was so blatantly rude to him the day they’d met.
“Give me therapy, I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything, therapy, you were never a friend to me,” Alex sang, finishing up the song, and also ending the show. After the last chord rung out, he smiled into the mic, thanked everyone for putting up with his terrible singing—which wasn’t terrible at all—and got up off of the stool. The small crowd of young girls who’d shown up about halfway through the show stood up and started screaming for him.
He walked off, and, immediately, the group of girls ran over to him and giggled giddily while shoving CDs in his face to sign. Once they were satisfied, they took seats at a table that had a view of the boy. He walked over to the girl behind the counter.
“What can I get for you?” she asked in a monotone voice.
“I’d like a cup of black coffee, and your name.”
She looked up, sighed, smiled, and said, “Gracie.” She turned around and filled one of the coffee shop’s signature mugs with some dark roast.
As she handed him the cup, he said, “Gracie. Gracie. I like that name.”
She rolled her eyes, “You would.”
“I would?”
“You would.”
Alex walked around, up and down the aisles, trying to figure out a way to approach the girl that he’d dated for almost two years. He kept glancing out of the corner of his eye, all the while becoming more and more jealous of the guy talking to the girl who stood behind the counter of the record shop. She’d been talking to him for the past ten minutes, and though he didn’t know who the guy was, Alex kept thinking bad thoughts. He couldn’t stand seeing her conversing with some guy, already getting over the singer.
He stopped in front of the M section of the shop, going through the various CDs, he found Mayday Parade’s A Lesson In Romantics.
“Katie, don’t cry, I know you’re trying your hardest, and the hardest part is letting go of the nights we shared.” The stereo had been playing the song on repeat. Gracie’s best friend had just passed away, and Gracie had been crying the whole day.
“Hey, come here, come on, don’t cry. I’ve got you, calm down, shh.” Alex pulled the girl onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “Shh, everything’s going to be fine.”
He recalled that it was her favorite record. For almost two months, that was the only thing she could stand to listen to. He gave a small smile, remembering how she’d play Black Cat when she was cooking dinners for them. She’d always sing along and jump around.
He continued walking through the store. Soon enough, he was in the Y section.
“Come on, America, you can do better than that!” Josh Franceschi shouted into the microphone. Alex had been on tour, and it was the New York City date, so he thought he’d surprise Gracie and take her to one of his concerts.
He looked over and saw her laughing, her blue eyes twinkling as the lights shone over them. Her newly green hair had been piled into a bun on the top of her head, and she was wearing a gray top over black jeans. He always noticed how she dressed. It looked like she threw everything on, not caring what she looked like, but it all seemed to work.
Slowly, he reached his hand out, taking hers. She jumped, but looked over and smiled at him, leaning in as the band played Fireworks.
He came back to reality. He’d been zoning out a lot the past two weeks. Gracie had disappeared from her post behind the counter, and was replaced by a guy in his thirties. Alex looked around, trying to find the blonde. He couldn’t see her.
Suddenly, he felt as if he wasn’t supposed to be there, that it was a big waste of time. He looked down at his phone. The display read 4:23. He was officially late for sound check, and knew that Matt would yell at him for being late. He took off down the center aisle, and got to the steps leading up to the counter. He passed, looking to the right to get a glimpse of the girl that he’d once known. Soon, he realized that she was gone, and walked out of the shop.
On the sidewalk, he paused to think of which way he had come from. He thought it was left, but then remembered that it was the opposite way. He turned to walk, and spotted the girl coming out of the back door of the shop. He paused for a moment before walking toward her, not sure of what he could say.
In that moment, there was a passing of eye contact, a small nod from the girl, and then a wall of people between the two. A moment later, the wall disappeared, and with it, the girl.