From Under the Cork Tree

I fell harder and more in love with John than I ever thought I could.

Is that even possible? It felt like it.

I loved him with every fiber of my being. I knew that being said, I would probably be really depressed once he left for tour. It didn't help that, that nauseous feeling was coming over me when I thought about it. Knowing that the love of my life was leaving for a 3 month tour made me sad every time I thought about it. The days seemed so much shorter than before, it was like something wanted to take John from me.

Near the beginning of his tour, Rae, Pete, Patrick, Joe and Andy joined us for a full weekend at Disneyland. We got two hotel rooms, fast passes and had fun like giant kids. John was very hesitant about getting on any roller coasters, so I, Pete, Rae, and Andy got on nearly all of them that entire weekend. Pete took a bunch of pictures, and bought a boat load of Peter Pan and Nightmare Before Christmas stuff. I spent money on some NBC stuff too, but I'm more into Alice in Wonderland, so I bought a dress like Alice's and John bought me a huge stuffed Cheshire Cat doll.

Out of the group, Pete and I were more child-like than everyone else. We took pictures with the characters, we ate Mickey Mouse Pancakes for breakfast, we bought pictures of us on the rides, and we were the only ones who stayed out until midnight on our last day to watch the fireworks. After we had had our fill every night, we would crash so hard in the hotel rooms. Andy, Rae and Patrick shared a room, while Joe and Pete crashed with me and John. On the last night, when Pete and I returned to the room, everyone was in my room asleep in various places.

Pete and me went to the other room to watch some TV so we wouldn't wake our friends up. We both laid on the bed and turned on Snow White, just to be the background noise to us talking. Pete was telling me about the new video they were going to be shooting in October, and he wanted me and Rae to work on it again. He wanted us to be in it too.

"It's for Dance, Dance," he added, "we got this treatment that we think is cool, but there are a few others that are being looked at right now. Whatever's cheaper, the label says."

"What's the treatment?" I asked, rolling to lie on my back.

"A prom, of course," he chuckled, "we wanna shoot in LA, but since we're gonna be on the east coast for the Nintendo Fusion Tour, we might shoot in New York."

"We'll see," I said, turning my head to look at him, "you know, I was prom queen my junior year."

He smirked, "Shut the fuck up."

I laughed, "It's true! I was, I won over this girl who was super popular. Her name was Tanya Banks, she was this exotic looking middle eastern girl. She was rude, she was gorgeous too; we were in the same grade, same classes...we were all sure she was gonna win."

"How'd you win?" He asked.

"My friend Anja stuffed the ballot box," I smiled at the memory, "I didn't even know until she told me on her death bed. She was a sweetheart, she wanted me to win so badly because Tanya had called her names..." I frowned suddenly, remembering my dear friend.

"What was wrong with Anja?" Pete's voice was soft.

I looked up at the ceiling, "She had leukemia, she lost all her hair from chemo, and everyone knew...everyone was sympathetic, except for Tanya. She called her names and made fun of her being in the hospital and losing all her hair. And even though it hurt Anja, she continued to come to school, she didn't wear a wig either," the smile appeared on my face, "she was brilliant, got straight A's, she was on student council and prom committee."

Pete chuckled, "She sounds like a bad ass."

"She was," I looked over at him, "I think you'd be her type. Anyway, after I won, Tanya was pissed, and it only took a week for her to exact "revenge,"" I finger quoted. "She slept with my boyfriend, took pictures and then posted them around school. She was expelled, but..." I trailed, "it still followed me that my boyfriend could betray me like that. Especially since he was friends with Anja too. Sleeping with the enemy is a no-no in my book."

Pete frowned, "He missed out. Look at you now, though! You got a super hot and famous best friend," he pointed to himself, "you're at Disneyland, and you're getting married to the coolest dude on the planet."

I smiled, "Yeah, I'm pretty lucky."

"So," he began, "tell me more about Anja."

I began to tell him stories of my high school adventures with Anja. I told stories well until the movie ended and the sun was peeking through the curtains. I was happy to tell Pete everything, like how I told John about Anja.

But, then, Pete asked me about the day she died. I was a little taken aback, because I hadn't talked about it in a long time. I was afraid I was going to cry -hell, I knew I was going to cry.

I was silent for a few seconds, prompting Pete to speak, "You don't have to tell me, Angelus."

I shook my head, "No...I might as well...just, don't laugh if I start to cry."

He smiled warmly, "I won't."

I cleared my throat, looking at the ceiling, as did he, "Uh, it was a month after we started our senior year, and Anja was really sick...she was coughing up blood, and the bone marrow didn't take, so the doctors were positive she was going to die before the year's end. I went to visit her every single day after school, sometimes I even slept in the bed with her; she was so skinny from the illness, her hair had grown a little from remission, but the cancer came back without warnkng, so she didn't get chemo in time," I exhaled, swallowed and then continued. "I was really sure she'd make it, because she always made it before, but December 29th, she was falling in and out of consciousness, and then on December 31st, just after midnight, she died, and no one noticed until 5 AM when the nurses changed shifts," I stopped, I grew slightly angry from the memory.

"I'm sorry," Pete murmured.

The tears came too fast for me to acknowledge them, "They were too lazy to check up on her," I spat. "I blamed the hospital for a long time, her parents too, they sued for negligence and won."

"At least that's something," Pete said softly.

I rubbed my eyes, "I was mad at her too, not for a long time, but for a few months, until I accepted that it wasn't her fault she was born sick."

"How did you find out?" He asked after a short moment of silence.

"I was asleep...my parents woke me up," I paused. "They told me it was important, and that Anja's parents were in the living room. I knew, in a way, but I was hoping that it was something insignificant."

Pete was silent again.

I spoke, "I went to her funeral and was pissed with everyone and everything. I had lost my oldest and only best friend, and I again, felt like I had been stabbed in the back. When I went back to school I cried all the time, my grades slipped and I could barely function without crying and screaming. That's when I went on medication, I was able to forgive God and beg Anja to forgive me."

"I don't think she would be mad at you," he chimed.

"Yeah," I rubbed my eyes once more, "she wouldn't have. She would've told me to man-up and to forget about it."

"I never experienced death like you have," he said, "like, someone so close to me."

"It's something that can break you, but then...then, things get better, and you remember the good stuff and you don't cry everyday anymore."

"You're like an owl," he laughed, causing me to look at him, "you're so damn wise."

I giggled, "Thank my dad."

"I should. I needa thank both your parents because they created a knock out!"

I shoved him playfully, "Don't be dumb. Actually, I think my parents would love that."

"That's on my to-do list," he grinned at me.

"You just don't quit, do ya?"

He shook his head seriously, "Nope."

"Good," I patted his cheek, "don't change."


I was nervous as hell while John was packing his things. He was due to leave in the next morning; he'd be on a plane bound to New York to see his family before he left for tour. I hated for him to leave, but he had a family and a job to do.

I scolded myself for being so selfish. I hated how my stomach knotted unmercifully as I watched him pack his things in his black, worn out jam sport backpack. He was shirtless, waiting to pack his clothes, next, to get properly dressed. My eyes were glued to his back and his tattoos as he moved fluidly, the muscles in his shoulders and biceps flexing.

"Why're you staring a hole in my back, Lus?" He said suddenly, breaking my sadden thoughts.

"I'm sad," I answered without a second thought. "My stomach hurts from how badly I miss you already."

John looked back at me, his small playful smile adorning his lips, "That's impossible."

"It's totally possible," I pouted. "I love you."

"I love you too, Angelus," he turned back.

I sighed, "I'm sorry for being so needy and annoying, Beatz, but I...I feel sick, and it's always when you leave."

He zipped his backpack and turned to face me fully, "You're just nervous."

I shook my head, "No, I'm sad. This has been happening more and more lately. It's unusual."

"It's because you love me so much," he came over and picked me up, quite easily, and then sat us on the bed, me in his lap. "You don't need to be worried, scared or nervous. I'll be back, I will always come back to you."

"I know," I wrapped my arms around his neck, "I'm being dumb."

He kissed my temple, "You're not dumb, Lus."

"I wish I could stop it," I murmured as my stomach tensed again. "I feel like I gotta throw up."

John rubbed my back, "Are you sick?"

I shook my head, "No. I don't think I am."

He felt my forehead, I smiled, causing butterflies to flutter around my knotted insides.

"You're not warm," he concluded. "Maybe you should see a doctor."

"Maybe," I said.

"We can go after I get dressed."

"Right now?" I asked incredulously.

John nodded sternly, "I'm not gonna leave until I know you're alright," he smiled at me again. "I just want to make sure that it's me causing these knots and not something else."

I nodded in agreement, "Okay. I guess that's fair."

He kissed me and then set me on the side of the bed, "Now, lemme get dressed and we can go."

I sat and watched John go through his messy suitcase. He kept sniffing for a shirt until he got to a clean one. I had giggled and shook my head, "Hey, my mom is dyin' to wash my clothes."

"You're mom is so weird."

"Where do you think I get it from?"

John was making this harder and harder. I didn't want him to leave so badly. I would've begged and pleaded with him to stay. I would've bribed anyone to keep him home with me, but it wouldn't have worked.

So, as we left, I made sure to get my fill of my love. I smelt his neck, to smell his cologne, I held his hand in mine, memorizing how our hands fit together; his were a lot larger than mine, my entire fist fit in the palm of his hand. I made sure that I remembered the features in his face and body; something in me ordered me do this.

John drove to the clinic downtown; it was a surprise that the lobby was empty. I was happy, because it meant I would be seen quickly and then I would go back home and spend the remaining hours with John. I filled out the paperwork, then waited for a doctor to see me. During the short wait, I traced the lines in John's palm; the line leading to his wrist, ultimately his heart, had another creased line through it in the middle. I made note of it, wanting to look it up, because I had been interested in weird things like palm readings.

I was too busy looking at John's life lines that I didn't hear a nurse calling my name. John nudged me and stood up, quickly taking my hand in his. I shook off my distracted sense and followed behind the nurse with John beside me.

The nurse took my height and weight; I learned I had gained a few pounds since the last I weighed myself. I guessed that it was from stressing about John leaving. We then went to the exam room and were told to wait for the doctor.

"I'm getting fat," I said as I sat on the examination table.

"You're perfect," John said absentmindedly, "you're not fat."

I smiled, my cheeks burning; John smiled too, "I haven't made you blush in a long time!"

I had no reply, I was too giddy and happy being there with him. John stood up and walked over, standing between my legs and holding me, "This tour will be hell on me too," he confessed, "I'm sad too, Angel."

I wanted to cry, but I managed to hold it in. I kissed the underside of his jaw and wrapped my arms around him. We sat in silence until the doctor arrived.