Oh, Calamity

I knock on the door three times and then stand back, hoping yet fearing that Jack will open the door. Instead, Jack’s mum answers. I can’t decide whether I’m relieved or disappointed.
I haven’t seen Jack for nearly a week now. I’ve tried calling him again numerous times, but I think he’s turned his phone off since it just goes straight to voicemail now. This is the first time I’ve actually gone straight to his house, though. It’s taken me this long to build up the courage.
“Oh Alex, are you alright? You don’t look very well, sweetie,” Mrs Barakat exclaims in her Lebanese accent when she sees me. Jack’s family moved to the US from Lebanon before Jack had even turned one.
I guess Jack hasn’t told her what happened, since she’s being so nice and doesn’t know what’s wrong and I suppose I mustn’t look too good, come to think of it. I’ve been drinking a lot in the week since Jack walked out, I haven’t been sleeping or showering much and I’m spending all my time either drunk or hung over. Last time I looked in the mirror my eyes were bloodshot with purple bags underneath, my hoodie and sweatpants were stained and grubby, I really needed to shave and I just didn’t really look alive. I don’t particularly want to be.
“I’m okay. Is Jack home?” I ask wearily. I’m hung over this morning, but I know that I’ll be drunk by tonight and tomorrow will be the same. Hung over in the morning, drunk all night.
“No, he’s not, but come in anyway and sit down,” she says, looking at me anxiously and waving me inside. I’ve spent so much time in her house that I’m probably like a second son to her, just like Jack is to my parents.
I still remember the first time I met Mrs Barakat. I was catching the bus home with Jack from school to visit his house for the first time, and he said something to me about how his mum was probably vacuuming naked at home or something. We both laughed it off, but when we got to the house and went inside his mum was actually vacuuming in her fucking underwear like she did it every day. So that was a great first impression.
I enter the lounge room and sit down on the couch. “Would you like anything, Alex? Tea, coffee, something to eat?”
“A cup of coffee would be great, thanks.” Mrs Barakat goes off to the kitchen and comes back with two mugs, one for me and one for her.
“Thanks,” I say as she settles herself down in an armchair.
“So, do you know where Jack is?” I ask hopefully.
“No I don’t. I haven’t seen him for about a week, but he called me a few days ago and said he’d gone on a road trip. I assumed you’d gone with him.”
“Did he say when he’d be home?”
“No, sorry sweetheart. I’m sure he’ll be home soon, though. You boys are going on tour soon, aren’t you?” I nod. Shit. I haven’t even thought about that. We’re supposed to be going on a tour around the US with Pierce the Veil in a week, but if I don’t hear from Jack soon then we’re going to have to call the tour off. That means I’ve gotta tell Rian and Zack about what happened. Fucking hell.
Mrs Barakat and I just make small talk while we finish off our coffees, with her asking me various questions every now and then to try and figure out what’s up and if it’s got anything to do with Jack. I tell her we’re both fine, but I know she doesn’t believe me. It’s a pathetic lie anyways, since the state I’m in clearly indicates that I’m not okay.
“Okay, well I better head off,” I say once I’ve finished my coffee.
“Okay sweetie, stay safe. I’ll get Jack to call you when he comes home, okay?”
I thank her and head outside. It’s raining now, so I pull my hood up and run to my car and drive home listening to Green Day.
As soon as I walk in the door I get a call from my mum. Dammit, I should have known that Mrs Barakat would call her. They’ve become really close after spending so much time around each other because of Jack and I.
“Hey Mum,” I answer in a falsely cheerful voice.
“Alexander.” I can hear the worry in her voice through her thick, southern English accent. We moved here to America from England when I was seven years old and my British accent turned into an American one as I grew up, but hers and Dad’s didn’t. “I was just talking to Joyce and she says that you were just at her place looking for Jack, and she’s really worried about you.”
“I’m fine, Mum. I just haven’t seen Jack for a few days and wanted to talk to him.” It wasn’t a total lie, but it’s not the total truth either.
“Alex, come on. I’m your mother. I know you and I know that something’s wrong. You can tell me anything, you know.” I sighed inwardly. I guess she’s right, and she isn’t going to lay off me until I tell her. She knows I’m bisexual anyways and she’s completely okay with it, so it’s not like it’s going to be a huge shock to her that I have a crush on Jack.
“Okay, whatever. You know how I’m bisexual?”
“Mm hm.”
“Well, I’ve kinda had a bit of a crush on Jack for a while and about a week ago I let that slip to him, so he ran off and I haven’t been able to get in contact with him since then.”
“Oh, honey, that must be so hard for you. Are you okay?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“Alexander, do you think maybe you want to come stay here for a while? Just until you can get things worked out, so you don’t have to deal with this alone.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll pack a bag and be over there in a bit.”
“Alright darling, I’ll see you then. Love you.”
“Love you too.” I hang up and head to my room to grab a suitcase. I know she’s really offering for me to stay because she’s scared of what might happen to me if she lets me continue to live alone. Panic attacks, drinking, depression, suicide…
I’m grateful for the offer anyways, because even though it’s an awkward thing to have parental help with, I don’t really want to be dealing with it by myself.

I’m packed and at my childhood home in about half an hour. I let myself in and my mum comes hurrying over immediately to kiss me on the cheek and help me carry my suitcase upstairs and stuff.
I’m nearly tripped over by my dogs as they rush over to greet me, barking and jumping all over the place. I have a little Papillion named Sebastian and a bigger dog called Peyton. They’re my dogs and I’ve love to have them live with me but I’m not allowed to have pets in my apartment.
When my bag is safely in my old room and away from the excited and curious dogs, my mum turns to me, her face etched with concern.
“Alex,” she begins. “How much have you been drinking lately?”
“Uh…”
“Don’t try to lie to me. I can smell it on your breath, and I can tell how hung over you are. Alex, I know you’re upset but drinking yourself into oblivion is not the way to deal with it. You remember how Tom died. We don’t want a repeat of that, and you don’t want your father to find out how much you’ve been drinking.”
“I know, Mum. I promise I’ll stop, okay?” I’m eager to get off this topic, because I really don’t want to talk about Tom. He died of alcohol poisoning when I was twelve, so my parents have always been wary of alcohol. They trust me and they’re okay with me drinking, but if my father knew I’ve been using it to deal with my problems he’d be crushed. Tom was his son, because he was married to another woman before my mum. I’m their only child that belongs to both of them.
“Alright, you better go and clean yourself up before he gets home. It’ll make you feel better too.”
“Yes, Mum.”