Anywhere but Here

Alex was having what would more than likely go down as the worst month of his entire life.

It had been exactly thirty days—and of course he was keeping track—since he’d seen Jack. He was going way out of his way to purposefully avoid the boy, and it was absolute torture. But it seemed that Jack didn’t want to talk to him. Alex had hoped so much that a little time apart with no contact whatsoever would make Jack realize…well, Alex wasn’t sure what, but he wanted Jack to realize something about their relationship, or lack thereof.

Unfortunately, Jack didn’t care as much as Alex had assumed. Had he really been that far off in his guess? He’d figured that it would take a couple of days and Jack would go through, for lack of a better word, withdrawals. A little egotistical, but Alex wasn’t exactly the most down to earth person out there. Which was why he was in this mess in the first place.

He went to the party to take his mind off of things. And by things, he meant Jack. It had been a month and it didn’t look like things were going to change, so the only real option was to get wasted enough to forget for a while.

‘Cause fuck, he missed Jack.

Even if Jack didn’t miss him.

But after an hour at the party and not knowing/liking/caring to associate with anybody there, he’d had a few beers but could still walk a somewhat straight line. He staggered just the slightest bit as he left.

There was a car. He was aware of this fact. Sort of. He couldn’t tell if it was coming towards him or driving away. Surely they’d swerve if they were coming his way. They always swerved, even if it was at the last sec—

His thought was cut off by something slamming into him, sending him tumbling to the ground.

The something that hit him was Jack. He couldn’t see his face, but he was definitely on the sidewalk pinned beneath none other than Jack Barakat. “What just happened?” he asked slowly.

Jack stood and helped him up. “You’re a drunk idiot, that’s what happened,” he explained.

No, that’s not what he meant. What he meant by what just happened was, what just happened, why did you save me? “Jack. You could’ve died.”

At that, Jack smiled. “Totally worth it.”

Wait, what?

Alex beamed—he couldn’t fucking help it. “Really? Like, you really mean that?” he asked. Sure, he was grinning like a fool, but that didn’t mean he wanted to get his hopes up just yet.

After a brief pause, Jack nodded. “Yeah. I really do. Damn it, Alex, I kind of hate to say this, but I’ve really fucking missed you.”

He grabbed Jack and pulled him into his arms. “Good, ‘cause I’ve really fucking missed you too.” He could feel goosebumps on Jack’s bare arms and slipping out of his jacket, offering it to him. “Take this. You’re freezing.”

Despite the fact that he was shivering like crazy, Jack tried to decline. “W-won’t you get cold?” Until Alex pointed it out, he hadn’t realized just how cold he was.

“Jack, I’ve been drinking.” Like that was an explanation.

And to him, it was. “Right,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You always get hot when you’re drunk. God, you’re so damn weird!” But he took the hoodie, sliding his arms through the sleeves. For a moment, he was overwhelmed by how much it smelled like Alex and vanilla and high school and cinnamon and sneaking out late and that spice he could never remember the name of and Alex Alex Alex.

“Where are we going?” Alex asked, his voice bordering on a whine.

“I’m taking you back to your dorm.”

“Jack, I’m perfectly capable of—” He stopped short, thinking that hey, this gave them a reason to walk together and how could he possibly let this kind of opportunity slip him by? Besides, it didn’t matter where they were going. What mattered was who he was with.

“Whatever.” He messed Alex’s hair up even more than it already was, an old habit from high school that was apparently still an instinct for him.

They were walking in a totally comfortable silence, but Alex hated silence when he was drunk, so he asked, “Do you love him?”

Jack didn’t ask him to clarify. He knew who Alex was talking about. “No,” he responded simply. It felt good to say it out loud, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Then why…” Alex trailed off, unsure of how to finish. Why are you still with him? Why won’t you leave him? Why are you lying to him—doesn’t that seem unfair? Why won’t you just suck it up and say you love me? Why can’t we go back to the way things used to be? Why won’t you accept my apologies for what happened in high school?

He interpreted it to mean the first of Alex’s unspoken questions. “Because he loves me and I don’t want to hurt him after he’s been so nice to me.” After saying it, he realized how pathetic it sounded. Almost as pathetic as because I’m terrified of ending up lonely again.

Jack’s words stirred up a memory, something Alex had seen at the party but hadn’t really processed until just now. “No he doesn’t!” he blurted.

“Beg your pardon?”

“He doesn’t love you. At, at that party, he was there, and he was, like, all over this one guy. He looked pretty into it, and I think they were leaving together.” He became aware of the word vomit and quit talking.

Jack was a few feet back. “No. Zack said he was going out with a few friends, that’s all.”

“So…he lied.” Alex felt like he was pointing out the obvious there.

“Zack wouldn’t lie to me like that.” He shook his head. “But you would. Oh my god, you’ll try just about anything to get me back, won’t you? Fuck, I can’t believe I almost…damn it!” His face was a dangerous cross of panic and sadness and anger, like he could start freaking out or crying or yelling. Instead of doing any of these, he turned and ran off, leaving Alex alone.

Well, fuck.