Oh, Calamity

I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth.
“What do you mean?” Jack asks. He looks… scared.
“Uh… I, well I- um…” I stutter.
“You don’t mean that you’re, like, in love with me, do you?” he asks warily. I don’t respond, but I can feel my cheeks going bright red.
“I have to go,” Jack says abruptly, hurriedly getting to his feet. I stand up too and try to grab at his sleeve.
“Jack, hold on-“
“Don’t touch me, Alex. I, uh, have a girlfriend. So leave me alone.” He quickly walks to the door and slams it behind him, leaving me to crumple onto the couch.
“Fuck” I whisper to myself, burying my face in my hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I flop down onto my back and lie there for a while, just staring at the walls. They’re covered in framed posters and awards for All Time Low, and I have a shelf with some trophies for the band on it next to my big TV that hangs on the wall above my electric guitar stand. What’s going to happen to All Time Low if Jack and I can’t fix this? If he’s going to be uncomfortable around me forever then we can’t possibly continue the band.
Eventually I get up and start pacing, and that’s when the tears start coming. I cry about possibly losing my best friend, the fact that I now know for sure that I never have a chance with him and the fact that he has a girlfriend. Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t he tell me? And why am I so stupid? I just had to let myself get tipsy and say something I told myself I would never tell him, and now I’ve ruined everything.
I grab a cushion off the couch and scream into it before throwing it at my trophy shelf, knocking all the trophies off the wall and making them tumble onto my guitars with a series of crashes. Then I just sink to my knees and sob into another cushion for a while.
Eventually I pull my mobile from my pocket and call Jack. I have to explain to him that it was a misunderstanding and that I don’t like him in that way. I have to apologise and make things right.
But he doesn’t pick up. I keep calling and leaving voice mail messages, but he never picks up or calls back.
“Jack, I’m really sorry about what happened earlier. Call me back and I can explain.”
“Jack, please, you have to believe me that what I said isn’t true.”
“Come on, I know you’re listening. Answer me.”
After what feels like the tenth call I give up and call Dr Way instead. I know I only met him today but I can’t deal with this on my own, and I’m not ready to tell anyone else about my feelings. And he’s a therapist; he’s supposed to know what to do in these situations.
“Hello; Dr Way’s office,” says a cheery female voice who I assume is the receptionist.
“Hi, this is Alex Gaskarth. Could I please speak to Dr Way?”
“I’m sorry but he’s with a client right now; would you like me to pass a message on for you?”
“Could you just tell him to call me back when he can?”
“Sure thing.”
“Thanks.” I hang up and go to grab my acoustic guitar, since that’s the only thing I want to do right now. Music is also one of the only things that can prevent a panic attack if I feel one coming on, which I certainly am right now.
I sit down and just play around with chords and focusing on my breathing until I pick up one of our most recent songs and start to sing, even though my voice is stuffy from crying.
“All I ever wanted was a part of you that I couldn’t break,
“A piece of you that I couldn’t take apart, but we’re in pieces now.
“And all you ever wanted was a piece of me that I couldn’t fake.
“I never made it easy to shape my heart but it’s not beating now.
“I have to let you down.”
I play and sing until Dr Way calls me back after about half an hour. I pick up immediately since I had kept my phone beside me the whole time.
“Hello?
“Hi, is this Alex?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Alex. Is everything okay?”
“Uh, not exactly. Do you have time to talk? I can’t think of anyone else to go to.”
“Of course. What’s the problem?”
I told him everything that had happened this afternoon with Jack while he just listened and asked the occasional question. By the end of it I was in tears again.
“So you’re definitely sure he’s ignoring you, and not just missing your calls by accident?” Dr Way asked when I finished.
“I’m sure. He always k-keeps his phone on him and I kn-know it isn’t flat because he ch-charged it before he came to p-p-pick me up to go to your office,” I stammered out through the tears.
“Alex, I think this is a time where you just have to stay calm and wait. If you really are his best friend then he will eventually pick up and allow you to explain. He cares about you, Alex; he’s just shocked and confused and doesn’t know how to react yet. He’ll come around, and everything will be okay. I promise. And remember, I’m always here to talk if you need.”
“Th-thank you,” I sniff. I don’t feel all that much better but Dr Way might be right. I just have to stay calm and wait for Jack to feel comfortable enough to talk to me again, which he surely will. I hope.