Ladies Shouldn't Be Messed With

Everyone in the crowd was screaming my name as I picked and licked and went crazy on my guitar, and even though I should have been used to it, I still felt my breathing run short from amazement. Everyone in this room was here to see us, to sing along with our songs. Alex's voice was so loud I could barely think, but it didn't matter, because I was in this for the music. The music kept me going. Some girl threw her bra up at me, and it said 'I <3 Jack' on the huge cups. Great, because I need so much booby coverage.

I sat on the speaker mid song, to give my tired legs a rest, and immediately hands were groping and grasping and touching any part of me that they could see. It took a second for my body to force me back onto my feet, but as soon as I jumped back up, I was on my ass again.

I looked up, and I saw a girl in a plain navy blue hoodie with long blonde hair flowing out from the sides. She had her septum pierced, and piercing green eyes, staring right at me. She waved and pointed at my kicks, which were cleverly tied together by the laces. I smiled back at her, but not before Alex could make a clever remark. 'Hey look everyone, Jackery got his shoes tied up like a little kid. Let's all point and laugh.'

I stood up and brushed myself off, slipping out of my sneakers and giving thanks
to God that my guitar wasn't ruined from my fall. Then, sock-footed and all, I said into
the mic, 'Alex, you're just jealous because your dick doesn't taste like applesauce.'

***

Girls all around me screamed at what Jack had just said, their shouts varying between simply 'I love you Jack!' and 'Oh, I want to taste it, baby!' Ugh. Nothing made me more sick than ridiculously easy girls, especially ones who looked like they were twelve. Come to think of it, they probably were, which made it all the more creepy.

I resumed looking at Jack, who had kicked off his shoes instead of trying to undo my double figure eight knot. Success.

'Who the hell tied Jack's laces together so quickly anyway?' Alex asked in the microphone. I had no intention of raising my hand, as I was certainly not one for public recognition, but Jack seemed to have other plans.

'It's that girl, right there. She's the blonde in the hoodie, with the nose ring.' As Alex and Jack both looked at me, I felt my cheeks heat up. Fortunately, my cheeks don't show very much color when I'm embarrassed, so no one noticed, and I was able to play it off confidently. 'Don't think you're gonna get away with it, little missy,' Jack said, looking right into my green eyes. 'I'll see you backstage later. Count on it.'

I was not going to let him have the last word, nor did I have any intention of letting these girls know that I wanted to ravish his body, so I yelled back, 'Eat my shorts, Barakat. Play another song!'

***

Several girls gave a shocked cry as they heard this girl's very bold response. I actually thought it was kind of hot that she would say something like that to me...you know, instead of fainting or screaming.

'May as well give the lady what she wants, huh, Jack?' I heard Alex ask. 'Who wants to hear another song?' Shouts of different songs we play resounding throughout the small venue, but one stood out to me amongst all the cries of 'Dear Maria, Count Me In' and 'Six Feet Under the Stars'.

I immediately started to play my guitar part for 'Noel', which we hadn't played at a show in a really long time. Zack and Rian both slowly caught on, and Alex had no choice but to go against the set list, and sing along with all of us. I had no idea what had come over me, or why I noticed that particular voice out of all of the others, but when I looked down amidst Alex's fangirls screaming, I saw Blondie's face again, lit up at the song bursting through the speakers, dancing along and mouthing, but not singing.

Seeing her smiling like that made me go back into 'Crazy Jack' mode, and soon enough I was jumping all over the place, spinning like a wild man and thanking some higher power that although I was in my sock feet I didn't fall yet again.

Your lips are a hot flame, baby and our chemistry is kerosene...
As we kiss to the sound of your stereo, don't say a word... I won't say a word...

***

When the pit slowly filed out by the exit, I was caught up texting my best friend, Samantha, who happened to share my name, and didn't feel like being the first one out the door, so I stayed put near the front of the stage. As they were cleaning up the equipment on the stage, Alex came out to help, and much to my disapproval, noticed and recognized me.

“Hey, girl! Blondie!”

“...Yes?” I answered, reluctantly and with an air of boredom.

“Come up here; Jack wants to meet the girl who tied his kicks together. What’s your name?” he asked, offering his hand to me as leverage to get up without having to come around the barricade and use the stairs.

“I’m Samantha. But you can call me Sam, and certainly not Blondie. Where is he?” I had to conceal my excitement and seem extremely nonchalant about meeting him in this way; I originally planned to just tie his shoes together for some laughs, like we all used to in elementary school. Granted, I wasn't going to fall to my knees and start praising the mighty Bassam, but I wasn't afraid to admit, I had a little crush on Jack.

We walked back to the area where bands typically hang out before a show, only to find the other three members of All Time Low sitting on a very old looking couch. Rian was half asleep holding his girlfriend, who was far gone, her head on his shoulder, and Zack was eating ketchup with a spoon. However, I was most interested and amused by Jack's actions: he was hunched over, his head down, trying to figure out how to undo the double figure eight I had created in his shoes.

I cleared my throat noticeably, and Jack looked up, sort of staring at me for a second, and then speaking up, pointing an accusatory finger in my direction and walking my way. “YOU!” He pouted like a young child whose ice cream had fallen into some sandy rocks.

I, on the other hand, donned the face of child playing innocent, but had really just tripped the other kid, or alternately knocked the ice cream out of his hand. “Who, lil’ ol’ me?”

“Yes, you, you friggin’ jerk. I sit down for like, five seconds to give my legs a rest and you go and tie my shoelaces together in some unimaginably tangled, chaotic mess!” He paused for a moment, still pouting, now with his arms crossed.

“Well, I was going to come back here and help you undo the knot, but now that you’ve called me a ‘friggin’ jerk’, I don’t know if I will.”

His eyes darted around as if he was thinking extremely hard, while still maintaining his look of five-year-old sadness. Then, he huffed and sighed, with a look of utter defeat. “Okay fine, I take back what I said. Can you please help me with this knot? I want to actually be able to wear these shoes again.”

“Jack, maybe you should be a little nicer to her, even though she was a meanie and tied your shoes together,” Alex said, which was so uncharacteristically Alex that I was shocked. Then I turned to look at him and he had that signature smirk on his face, which told me that he not only thought Jack’s sincere misery at the thought of not being able to wear his kicks again funny, but also that the last thing he said was blatantly sarcastic.

“I don’t appreciate your sass, Mister Gaskarth. Now, Jackery, give me your shoe…well, shoes, actually. I’ll show you how to undo it.”

***

I walked over to give the mystery girl my shoes, fully equipped, unfortunately, with her knot. “Hey, what’s your name, anyway?”

“Alexander William Gaskarth, why do you ask?”

“Very funny, Mr. Obnoxious. My name is Sam.”

“Well, Sam, thank you for probably giving way to many wonderful YouTube videos to follow this night. Here, work your magic,” I said, dropping the shoes carelessly into her hands.

She looked at me expectantly, the way a teacher does when she’s waiting for you to stop talking in class. I waited patiently for her to start trying to separate the shoes, but she just kept looking. “Ahem…the magic word, Jack?”

Ah, the age old “magic word”. “Work your magic…please?”

“Much better,” she said, smiling like it was just some big joke, which I think it was. Then, she pulled but a single string, and the whole thing came undone, like nothing was even there in the beginning. I stared, wide-eyed, at the sneakers that I had been trying for like ten or fifteen minute to unknot, and there they were, two separate sneakers again, right before my eyes. She must have been a sorceress or something, I swear.

“Aren’t you going to thank her?” Zack asked, almost as incredulous at the simplicity of the untying as I was.

I don’t know what came over me, but in about a split second, the shoes were on the floor and my lips were on hers. My hands cupped her face, and my face pressed onto hers harder, like I couldn’t thank her enough, and his was the only way my brain knew how. After a second or two of shock, she responded, kissing back with just as much force and need. When I finally separated from her, my hands still on her face, I blushed and uttered a soft, barely audible “Thank you.”

She surprised me by not responding, but instead taking out a sharpie and writing her number on my left sneaker. She smiled, waved and left the room, zipping up her hoodie. Within a minute, I heard her, most likely on her phone, saying, “Samantha, you are never going to believe what just happened to me!”