Alex's P.O.V

Apple and cinnamon. The scent's so strong, it feels like as if I was 6 again, sitting on the countertop of our kitchen in England. My mom would bake apple pies, with lots and lots of cinnamon, just how we liked it.

It's just a freaking scented candle, stupid.

But then again everything in this world just doesn't stop reminding me of him. It never will. Doesn't matter how hard I try.

Her room is an art space. Drawings cover the walls, a stool with an unfinished painting on a canvas lay near the window. It's just how I imagined it would be on the inside, and not from 10 feet away, from the view from my bedroom.

My fingers trace on the surface of her drawings on the wall. They're... Amazing. I can clearly get the message she's poured onto it.

"Anger. Hatred and frustration." I say out of my concious mind, I realize that I'm talking about one of her drawings

"They're nothing." She snaps

I continue to scan the other paper taped next to it, "And this one.. Joy? Happiness?"

"Can we not focus on that, please?" She says uncomfortably

I turn my gaze away from her drawings and move over towards her desk, where her art utensils are scattered. One thing about her room, is that it's so warm in here that I'm starting to sweat in my suit. I take the blazer off and rest it on the chair. Much better.

"I didn't see you at Homecoming." She says, breaking the silence

"I know, we ditched it. Me and my friends." I confess

"Why?"

"We're too cool for homecoming." I smirk

Well to be honest, that's not 100% true.

We were gonna go to homecoming, but then suddenly Jack decided to pull out some booze he'd managed to steal off his brother's supplies. If I had to choose between the horrible punch they always serve and a bottle of free Jack D, I wouldn't miss it for the world.

So we ditched homecoming, and stayed in Zack's basement the whole night until my mom started to blow my phone up with missed calls and texts at around 1. She thought I was going to homecoming. Rian finally drove me home which was fortunate that the both of us got home safely since we'd been consuming alcohol non stop.

And of course, I got to be greeted home by my overprotective parents who were about to call the police and file a report. After our usual argument I decided that I'd had enough of it.
I mentioned about him.

I know it wasn't right of me to say but I was so sick of being treated like a child. Maybe it's because I'm just so much like him in many ways.

"What was that about?" She furrows her brows, bringing me back from my thoughts

"What was what about?" I ask in return

"You.. And your mom." She stutters

"I don't wanna talk about it." I snap, a bit too harsh

She flinches. I swear I didn't mean it to sound that harsh

I let out a huge sigh, "Well, I actually do want to talk about it."

"I came home drunk past my curfew, it wasn't the first time. They found out that I'd ditched homecoming and drank all night instead. I was just so pissed, they always treat me like I'm a baby." I admit

"Maybe they're just trying to protect you."

"All of this wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been because of him.."

It just slipped, I didn't mean to say that. My heart is beating so fast, panic rises inside me. I wasn't supposed to mention her anything about him.

"If it hadn't been for what?" She asks in curiosity

I'm having an anxiety attack. I need to calm down. This isn't happening. But then my feet make their way towards her, out of my concious mind.

She flinches. Am I scaring her?

I reach for her hair, which is still wet. She cut it. It no longer reaches her back, her beautiful red hair. I am looking at a completely different person as I stare deep down into her chocolate brown eyes. Her bare face, without a swipe of makeup. There's a splash of freckles across her nose, which makes such a contrast to her pale skin.

She looks.... Innocent.

Simply beautiful

I feel my breathing starting to slow down, "You cut your hair... You look.. Different."

"I did."

"I've never realized how warm the colour of your eyes are." I say, not blinking

I bring my hands lower to touch her cheek. I know I need to stop, but I just can't. The feeling of her soft skin against my fingertips is just... Soothing.

I finally force myself to stand up straight again and clear my mind before I do anything stupid any more further

"Hell, I didn't know what I was doing. I'm fucking drunk off my ass right now." I say. Yeah, maybe I'm just drunk after all.

"Yeah, of course you are." She laughs awkwardly

I try to change the subject and my eyes land on a guitar in the corner of the room. I didn't know she played.

"Do you play?" I point at the guitar

"No, it was a gift."

I take the guitar, which has a layer of dust on it. It's a really nice guitar, not the kind you commonly see at shops. I give it a strum, which provides a raspy sound.

"This is a really good guitar. A gibson. It shouldn't be laying around collecting dust in the corner. Only the strings need to be changed, otherwise it's perfect." I inspect

"I don't even know a single key." She confesses

"I can ask Jack to teach you, he's a pro." I offer

Like I can't?

"Thank you, but no. I'm not much of a musician." She shrugs

"But you have to!" I snap

"Damn, Alex! Why the hell does it matter so much to you?" She snaps in return

"You just.. You just have to!" I keep on insisting. I have no idea what the fuck is going on with my mind

"Okay, okay! I'll think about it. Now stop shouting, you're gonna wake up my mom." She says

"I'm drunk, remember?" I make an excuse. God, that was embarrassing

She rolls her eyes, "Whatever. You're no better, drunk or not."

"You better get used to it, Gail."

"Well, that's a first." She says

"What? Having a perfect view of a sex god right in front of your eyes?" I smirk

"I'm serious!"

"So, what's a first?" I ask

"That's the first time you called me by my actual name. Gail. Other than a thousand other nicknames you've given me."

I did?

"So you're just gonna keep a record for how many times I say your name? Don't feel so special." I snort

"You know what? I don't know what the hell I've ever done to you to make you hate me, but just quit it. I'm starting to regret helping you in the first place."

"I didn't ask for your help." I state

"Then why did you say yes?"

"Why did you help me?"

"You didn't answer my question!" She yells

"Because I have nowhere to go! I don't want to bother my friends anymore with any of this shit, they've been dragged down into this matter too many times! There, happy?" I yell back at her

I'm so sick of all of this. Having another argument with her is not gonna help anything. But still, even she hadn't helped me in the first place, God knows where I would've ended up

I closes my eyes and sigh, "Can I just please stay the night here? I really don't want to be around them, at least until I'm calmed down."

I half expected her to kick me out of her house, because of a jerk that I am to her. I would if I were her.

"There's a guest room at the end of the hallway." She slowly says

"Guest room?" I make sure

"Don't worry, I promise there's no monster under the bed." She smirks

"Did you know that before you moved in, a 17 years old ginger who used to live here hung herself in this very room? I heard that the curse goes on till now." I smirk back

"Spoooooky." She laughs

She leads me to the guest room just across the hall. It looks so dull compared to her room. I'm guessing they don't have many company and this room hasn't been used in quite a long time.

"The bathroom's that way. If you need anything, just knock on my room. Anything else?" She leans against the door

"Prove me there's no monster under the bed." I joke

She lets out a small laugh and lifts the duvet up. I duck and pretend to look for one.

"Fair enough." I nod in satisfaction

"Good night." She says, her hands reaching for the handle

"Gail?"

"Yes, Alex?"

"What made you think that I hate you?"

"Like you're not making it obvious every single day."

"Well.. I just want you to know that I don't."

"Are you always like that to people?"

"I may not be the nicest person to you in this world, but I don't hate you."

She smiles slyly, "Good night, Alex."

"But do you?" I ask

But she stays silent

"Do you hate me? Despite all the things I've done to you?" I ask once again

"Hate is such a strong word, isn't it?"

I stifle a laugh, "Yeah, it is."

"Good night, Alex."

"Good morning, Abigail." I answer. But I don't think she heard me.

-----------

I wake up with a jolt. Ah, freaking hang over. My head feels so heavy, I feel like shit. As my eyes start to adjust to my surroundings, I notice that I'm not in my room, or Jack's, or Rian's, or Zack's.

I'm in Gail's guest room.

Suddenly the memory from last night comes flooding in, despite how drunk I was last night.
I fucked up big time last night.

What time is it? Does anyone know I'm here?

It's 9 in the morning, according to my watch. I think I left my phone at Jack's last night. I only have my watch and my suit.

I try to get up and get my shit together, I can't be spending another hour here.

And her.

Do I need to say good bye? Or.. Thank you? Yeah, a thank you would suffice. And sorry. The thing is, I don't think that I belong here. I'd got her into enough trouble last night, but she'd stayed with me.

I make the bed and reach for my suit that's resting on the chair. It's still in the pocket, I don't even remember carrying it. A red corsage. I'd bought it yesterday before the boys came to pick me up. I'd seen her dress when she was trying it on that night. I knew she wasn't gonna come with me to homecoming, why the hell did I even get one?

I need to leave. But I gotta at least tell her first. I quickly reach for a pen and tear a page of paper off a book. And with shaking hands, I manage to write something.

Thank you,

A coma. Because a full stop means it's the end of a sentence. It's not. There are many things that I would like to say, but I just don't know how and when.

Notes