Apologies

Smoke danced in the air, circling the small room in the back of the bus. John smoked cigarettes, loving the burn he could collect in his lungs before blowing the harshly scented air back into the atmosphere. It was his own torment, knowing he could not gain anything but cancer and other deadly effects. He liked to punish himself, it could take the guilt away. At least, for a time.

"John, you know better." Her voice was just a whisper, a breeze, if he had been paying more attention to the scene on the television, he may've missed it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Garrett’s voice boomed as he opened the door to their home away from home. John closed his eyes tightly, hoping he could block out his agitated band member and melt into the melody of her tone.

“John I swear to sweet baby Jesus, if you keep smoking on our bus I will have no choice but to scissor kick you in the throat.” Garrett said, as he plucked the freshly lit cigarette from John’s fingers. John let out a grunt, something between a laugh and sigh. He didn’t argue when Garrett acted like the house Mother, but he also didn’t comply to his rules when he was left alone. And John seemed to always be alone recently. His thoughts swirled around his brain, just as the smoke circled the bus previously. Garrett opened a window, letting the fresh air of Arizona mix in his lungs. John coughed. The scent was almost too pure.

Garrett flopped onto the cushion next to John, and switched the channel to a slasher flick. The scene was from a blonde’s point of view, her shirt half torn to reveal a bright pink bra. She called into the dark woods, as suspenseful music played in the background. So typical, John thought getting up from the couch and walking towards the front of the bus.

“Dude, where are you even going?" Garrett called over the blonde's screams, "It's like the best part of the film!"

"I'm going for a walk." John called, his voice raspy and hardly above a whisper. He questioned if Garrett had even heard, but due to the fact that he received no response, he opened the door to the bus and slammed it behind him as his feet hit the pavement.

John's legs carried him through the small town of Prescott. He walked at a slow pace, shuffling and taking in the scenery around him. If John had any reason at all, he may have come to terms with the fact that normal people don't hear their dead girlfriend's voices. But John was not a very reasonable person, rather a daydreamer. And that's exactly what he was doing, as he walked the unfamiliar streets. The large trees towered into the sky, and quaint buildings lined the streets in an orderly fashion. His green eyes observed the scenery peacefully, his pace slowing even further.

"Hi, hey, are you from around here?" Suddenly, a hand was waving itself in front of his line of vision. He blinked, refocusing on the petite brunette before him.

"Oh, no, sorry." His words came out smoothly, that was one thing John never seemed to lose. He always had a cool demeanor.

"You look extremely familiar." She inquired, studying his features. He was very sure he wouldn't recognize him, even if they had met previously. He had taken to not shaving in recent months, and had a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow littering his jawbone. Her hair was long, and parted down the middle suiting her diamond-shaped face. She was remotely average, being pale with large brown eyes. He studied her in return, raising his eyebrows as if everything about her was peculiar.

"Oh, I've got it! You kissed my sister in 7th grade and then made me cookies so I wouldn't tell!" She snapped her fingers and let out a melodic laugh, as if remembering this was the most hilarity she had experienced in years.

John's eyebrows furrowed together as he racked his brain for the memory. Suddenly, a flush covered his face and he scratched the back of his head as she laughed. He remembered it all now too. Becky Kilepsy, his first kiss. It all happened in her living room the day right before the start of their 8th grade year. She had invited him over on AIM, the main form of communication. So he rode his bike over, and stood outside her front door for 10 minutes, thinking of the proper greeting. Finally, he knocked. She had opened the door, wearing pink short-shorts and a black tank top. John about died right there, forgetting any script he'd previously planned in his head. She invited him in, leading him to the living room where they made small talk until finally, she told him to kiss her. John, never having kissed a girl before closed his eyes a whole foot before getting anywhere near her face, which lead his lips to full contact with her chin. She had giggled, and moved his head so they were facing, and then innocently pecked his lips. Her lipgloss tasted like cinnamon. John had had a thing for cinnamon ever since then.

Yet the perfect moment was ruined when Becky's 6th, well almost 7th grade sister burst into the room and proclaimed she was going to tell her parents. John had bargained and asked if there was anything in the entire world they could make her keep her lips shut. And the girl wanted cookies. John made them. And that is that.

John's cheeks rosened at the memory, and he found himself letting out a chuckle in response.

"Your name is like, hm, something with a 'J' right? Joseph? or Jack? John! John O'Callaflan." She proclaimed, proud of herself for accomplishing yet another task.

"It's John O'Callaghan, but I'm glad to see you remember me. I really should get going now.." He decided the situation was getting too personal, and that stalking by himself may be just enough to hear her voice yet again.

"Nice to meet you again John, I'm Alexandria." She introduced herself, and ignored his attempt at dismissal. She grinned up at him, and he wondered why she acted so.. comfortable around him. He hadn't experienced a woman's company in friendship since, well, his girlfriend.

Why are you still talking to her, John?

"I really should be goin-" He began, obeying her voice, but was cut off by a shuffling of feet and a shove against his shoulder. John tumbled slightly to the left but caught himself as Pat broke through and encased Alexandria in a large hug.

"Lex!" He screeched. Her reply was muffled against his chest as she swung and locked her arms around him. Finally after the embrace seemed to thoroughly suffocate Alexandria, she was released and they smiled at one another in disbelief.

"What are you doing here?" She excitedly said, her smile so apparent it could be seen on google maps.

"My band! Its funny because this is actually our lead singer." He said, pointing at John who awkwardly stood about a foot to where Pat had pushed him.

"Oh I just met John, he seems quiet." Alexandria replied, as if he were not standing but a foot from earshot. He was taken back by her ability to speak so freely of people as if they had been best of friends since grade school.

"Lex, why are you here? I didn't really imagine Prescott would be where you wanted to lay your roots after graduation." Pat said, looking at their surroundings as he spoke.

"I'm helping my Grandma move down here, but I'm headed back home tom-" John had had enough of their reunion. He began to stalk back towards the bus relaying the past few minutes in his head as he walked. The girl, Alexandria, was strange and incredibly comfortable. She was so.. odd. Extremely... displeasing, John decided. He did not like the girl, and that was that. And he decided he would not continue thinking about her. Yet, even as he entered the bus and went to his bunk to smoke a cigarette, he couldn't stop imagining the way her lips pulled back to reveal all her teeth when she smiled and the way her laugh was like chimes. He replayed their meeting over and over, until he felt sick to stomach for having another girl in his thoughts. So he closed his eyes, and willed himself to sleep instead just listening to the sounds of his friends lives go on around the bus until one by one they fell asleep. Eventually the bus began to move as well, towards the route home. When he finally did sleep, her blurred image spun in his head and he felt some content.

No one could ever make him forget her. She spun, too fast to make out her features, and laughed, he watched her live, immortally in his dreams. And when she finally stopped and rested back against his arms, he began to realize that this girl's long brown hair was unfamiliar, more even he wasn't looking into the same blue eyes he seemed to memorize. John woke up in a late night sweat, terror seeping into his mind. Because it hadn't been his lost girl's face at all.

That was the first night he ever dreamed about Alexandria Kilepsy.