*Jack Pov*

I went downstairs for cookies, but I really needed to talk to my mom. I entered the kitchen, and my mom was on her laptop at the table.

"Hey, Jacko, what's up?" she questioned, looking up from her screen.

"I came down for some cookies and coke."

"So, what did you need to talk to me about?" I raised an eyebrow.

"How did you know?" I never understood how she was so good at that.

"You're my son, Jack. I know you better than you know the script to Home Alone." I laughed.

"Well, it's about-"

"Alex." She finished for me. I nodded.

"What's going on? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, well, he will be. He had a panic attack." I explained.

"What happened!?" She eyed me accusingly.

"The yelling earlier triggered it. It scares him." I grabbed two cans of coke out of the fridge.

"Oh, I was just kidding." She looked down, an apologetic look ghosting her face.

"He knows. He's just scared by it. That and talking to people he doesn't know well," I trailed off.

"Well, don't make him sit up there by himself, mister. We can finish this discussion later. I'll try to keep it down."

"Thanks, Mom." I grabbed two more cookies and headed upstairs.

I started walking down the hallway to my room and I heard Alex quietly playing guitar. Sounds like he found my acoustic. He was singing to himself.

'You're lucky if your memory remains,
Give me therapy,
I'm a walking travesty,
but I'm smiling at everything,
Therapy,
you were never a friend to me,
and you can take back your misery,
Therapy,
I'm a walking travesty,
But I'm smiling at everything,
Therapy,
you were never a friend to me,
and you can choke on your misery'

It wasn't something I reconized, but it was beautiful. Yeah, 'can't play guitar well' my ass. I felt like such a creep just standing outside of my own door, but I didn't want him to stop. As the last few chords rang out, I peeked in the room. He was so adorable. He had his eyes closed, completely lost in the music. His fingers were maneuvering to the next chord with ease. Just - adorable. I walked in.

"I see you found my acoustic." I laughed, and he jumped a little at my voice.

"Sorry," he said, putting the guitar back on the stand.

"Don't be. I don't care; that was amazing. What was it?" His eyes widened, a blush creeping on his face.

"Thanks. It's called Therapy." He looked down. "I wrote it," he whispered. I barely heard him.

"You wrote that?!" I excaimed. He jumped a little and looked up. I playfully slapped his arm. He looked confused. "'Can't play guitar that well'," I quoted him, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, and I must be Tom Delonge." He laughed. I handed him a cookie and a coke.

"Thanks," he smiled.

"So...," I began, taking a bite of my cookie.

"These are really good cookies," he stated, attempting to change the subject. I decided to go with it.

"Yeah, she only makes these when we have a guest coming over," I explained with a mouth full of cookie.

"Ew, Jack, swallow before you talk," he exclaimed, playfully pushing me.

"Heh. That's what he said," I giggled immaturely. Alex gave me the 'are you serious?' face and shook his head. "Hey, if we're gonna be friends, you're gonna have to get used to me making jokes like that."

"You're lucky I like you, Jack," he sighed and shook his head again. I felt a blush threatening to creep on my cheeks. No. He doesn't like me like that. He's straight. Then again, he went along with my flirting earlier. Was he just humoring me or...? A slap on the arm jerked me from my thoughts. "You okay? You zoned out for few."

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Lisa. What's up with her? She was, like, stalking me today."

"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me. She'll be trying to get in your pants for awhile." He looked at me with confusion and embarrassment evident on his face. "For one, you're the new kid. Two, you're hot. And three, you don't talk much in front of most people," I counted off on my fingers. He looked down, smiling and trying to hide a blush.

"I can't help the not-t talking much," he whispered.

"I know, but she probably thinks you're just shy. So be carful that she doesn't get her paws on you. She'll try to change you and parade you around like some little pet." He stared at me with his eyes wide open. "You'll be fine. You have me and my friends. She hates us. Stick with us, and she'll definitely stay away from you," I reassured him, and he smiled. "Not to mention, your girlfriend probably wouldn't be happy about her being all over you," I subtly hinted, hoping that he would deny it.

"Actually, I don't-t have a girlfriend," he stated awkwardly.

"Really? Wow. Most pretty boys have girls crawling all over them," I joked. He raised his eyebrows in exasperation.

"Ok, one, you did not-t just call me a prett-ty boy, and no, my girlfriend and I b-broke up before the move." Damn. I knew he was straight.

"Would you prefer princess?" I asked innocently.

"I am not a girl. Alex is short-t for Alexander, not Alexandra."

"Hey, sometimes you gotta look yourself in the mirror and say 'you are the prettiest princess in all the land'. I do it once a week," I remarked. He laughed and pushed my shoulder.

"You're such an idiot, Jack." I smiled proudly. God, I love hearing him laugh.

The rest of the time was spent watching movies, trying to throw popcorn in each other's mouth (and failing), as well as me playing guitar.

The final chord of Green Day's "American Idiot" rang out. I couldn't stop smiling. Alex's voice was beyond perfect.

"Shit, I'm late!" Alex's voice made me jump. "I was supposed t-to be home like 20 minutes ago! Sorry, Jack, I have to go."

"It's ok. Thanks for coming over."

"Thanks for having m-me over. This was a lot of fun. We should d-do this again," he smiled.I walked him to the door, the smile never leaving my face. There's something about him. I just feel drawn to him. Ugh. I'm so lame. Too bad he's straight.

Notes