Just Another Reason I Could Never Forget You

I stretched out on the sun lounger next to John’s pool, trying to tan as much as I could bear in the Arizona heat. I’d been here for two years now and it still amazed me that I could lay around in my bikini in October and not absolutely freeze to death. The boys were messing about in various positions around me, drinking beer and pretending they were ready for the tour they had coming up. Judging from the begging they’d been doing to get me to sell merch for them, they weren’t even half as ready as they made out. I mean, they didn’t even have a merch girl and the tour was only a couple of days away. I’d made my mind up yesterday that I’d go with them if they asked again, but I’d yet to let them in on the secret.
“Don’t mess with me, O’Callaghan! You’re the one who’s supposed to be getting us a merch girl for the tour,” Kennedy scowled, pointing at John. I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses, taking in the scene. The four boys seemed to have John pressed into a corner, each aiming a water pistol at him. They’d only just returned from the UK and they were already planning on going away for two months to do their first huge, full-length tour. They’d been gone on and off since the beginning of the summer, but this was going to be their first long tour. I’d joined them during the summer, having given in to their request for a merch girl then also, but drawn the line at their two weeks in the UK. I’d been working temp jobs for the last month and had just declined another job, choosing instead to take up John’s offer. I’d met him before the others, while I was working in a diner in town over the summer I’d first arrived in Arizona. We’d been practically inseparable ever since, and I’d become fast friends with the rest of the band as it had formed.
“Well, I did have someone in mind, but, apparently, she hates spending time with all of you,” John responded, glaring at his bandmates and raising his own water pistol back at them. I snorted lightly at his words, knowing I hadn’t in fact said anything of the sort when he’d asked me. His opening line had been ‘Holly, you know how you’re deeply in love with me?’, so of course I’d responded with a ‘no’ to everything he’d said afterwards.
“I don’t hate them, John, I hate you,” I replied, pushing my sunglasses off my face and turning to fully face the band. “You’ve been a pain in my ass for like two years now. It’s getting old. I do need a break occasionally.”
“But we’re desperate, Hol,” he pouted. The four other boys turned to face me, expectantly. I should have known the entire scene had been a set up for them to beg me to come with and help out. I eyed the water pistols in the boys’ hands warily before responding.
“I’ve never met a man so desperate for anything as you, John Oh.” The others chuckled at my words while John scowled and I smiled at him sweetly. “But if you all insist on dragging me away from here and showing me the country for two months, I guess I can’t argue.” I watched the eyes of my five best friends lighting up and a triumphant cheer erupted from the group. The group ran at me, discarding their water guns and pulling me from the sun lounger. I shrieked as I felt my feet lifting from the ground, finding myself in the pool with the five of them before I could demand that they not throw me in the water. I laughed at them, splashing water at them, though it made no difference as they’d all been underwater the same amount of time as I had. “You’re all such assholes!”
“I needed some time to cool off,” Garrett laughed, winking at me. I groaned briefly, trying my best to ignore his insinuation. I missed hanging out with girls. I hadn’t made any sort of reputation for myself here, so I should probably have had no issue making friends with girls here. I was literally known as the girl who hangs out with John O’Callaghan. Nobody even knew my name. Unfortunately, the opposite had happened here as had happened in Maryland. Girls actively sought me out here, intent on becoming my friend to get to one of the guys. They hadn’t been a band that long, and yet John seemed to have untold amounts of girls following him around. He was basically the Alex Gaskarth of the group.
“Yeah, I mean, when are you going to give it up?” John joined in, nodding along with Garrett. I cocked my head to the side, thankful I’d moved over in the pool enough to place my feet firmly on the ground.
“Give what up?” I asked. I had a feeling these boys knew something I didn’t, and I hated it. They always played on it if I was acting oblivious to something. I could list a million facts about any number of things, but as soon as the guys knew something I didn’t, they made sure I knew about it.
“You’re giving me such a rush…” I watched the guys stifle a laugh at John’s words and I felt my stomach drop. I felt sick at his words and the memories they brought with them. I tried not to let the boys see what their effect their joke was having on me. In the two years I’d known them, I still hadn’t told them the story of Alex Gaskarth and how he’d broken my heart. I’d told them, as casually as I could muster, that I’d had my heart broken and decided it was time for a change in scenery, since school was just about over when it had happened. They’d taken me at my word, not pressing for further information about what had happened or even what the guy was called. Not that it would have been a name they recognised. I’d lost track of the boys as best as I could. I’d heard Dear Maria on the radio once or twice, however I’d turned it off as soon as I could without seeming suspicious to whoever I was with. From that, I gathered that Jack and Marissa were still together, or had been back then, and that the band was doing well. Other than that, I avoided anything to do with them.
“Come on, Holly, would you turn me on?” The boys sang at me in unison. How did they know that? I assume Alex had said something about the joke he’d made to me at some point somewhere, and I get that it’s a funny joke to play on your friend named Holly, but it made me sick thinking about him. I’d cut him out for a reason, and I didn’t like the idea of him intruding on my life after all this time. I’d convinced myself I was over him, but the way my body was reacting right now at the thought of him told me that clearly I wasn’t over him or the damage he’d wrought. The boys laughed at their own joke and I began to drag myself from the pool, choking on my own breath. The thought of that boy being any part of my life again made me panic. I’d created a whole new life here and deliberately avoided anything that would link me back to the girl I used to be in Baltimore. How could he catch up with me again?
“Holly, what- holy crap, are you okay?” John asked, rushing over to me as I stood up, clutching my stomach. I felt tears in my eyes and tried to wipe my face, to make it look like I was drying myself off from the pool water.
“Where did you hear that?” I asked them, staring at the five of them in the pool, wide eyed.
“It’s a song,” Pat responded. They were looking at me curiously and I couldn’t blame them. It hadn’t been offensive, and I often made similar jokes to them, so I could see why they were so concerned at my reaction. “Are you okay?”
“Who by?” I asked, trying to steady my breathing now. I was blindly hoping that he hadn’t put our entire relationship out there in the form of song, however I was having a difficult time convincing myself that it was true. The boys had confirmed that much to me.
“All Time Low.” I started choking again at Pat’s words. I knew it. I knew he’d used our time together as fodder for his band. He was getting famous now and at least some of it was based on my own pain. I hated him for it. He had the nerve to cheat on me, to act like he loved me, to make me a pawn in one of his sick games, and then use it to get himself out there? How dare he? I was furious. The tears of panic I’d pushed back had been replaced with tears of anger and I wanted to find some way to let him know just how much I hated him.
“What an asshole,” I seethed. I grabbed my towel from the lounger I’d been pulled from not five minutes before and stormed into John’s house. He still lived at home with his parents, however they were both at work right now, though neither of them minded when we all came over a drank beer we weren’t old enough to buy for ourselves yet. I pushed through the house and into John’s bedroom, still fuming, and grabbed my phone from my bag. I still had his number, and I’d more than once thought about calling him before. But this was different. This was for a reason. I didn’t even know if his number was the same, but mine was. He had, at the very least, stopped calling me a while ago, though it had taken him much longer to stop calling than it had Jack or Marissa. They’d given up hope on me long before Alex had.
“Holly?” John asked from the doorway, knocking lightly on his own door. I looked up from my phone, where I’d finally located Alex’s number, glaring at him. I knew it wasn’t his fault, by any means, but I was so angry right now I couldn’t differentiate the feelings. “What’s wrong?” He asked softly, making his way into the room and sitting beside me on his unmade bed. I bit my lip, locking my phone screen and turning to face him.
“I hate men,” I told him, simply. He laughed at the stereotypical phrasing of my words and I allowed a small smile to form on my face. “Okay, I hate men in bands who play guitar and write songs about me.”
“I’m in a band, I play guitar and I’ve written lyrics about you.” I snorted at his words, realising that perhaps I was still being a little broad. John had, indeed, written a few things about me over the last couple of years. When I’d first arrived, he’d admitted to being infatuated with me. After a few months and more than a few drinks, we had ended up sleeping together, but I’d quickly nipped any notion of a relationship in the bud. For the weeks following, he’d been rather aloof with me, but we eventually worked it out and become the best of friends again. I’d found out later that he’d spent those weeks steeped in angst and writing songs about me. Honestly, they weren’t cruel, and they were kind of cute, so I’d allowed it.
“Well, okay, I don’t hate you,” I conceded. “I hate men who write lyrics about my pain and somehow seem to have their band explode over it.” I felt John’s arms wrapped around my waist and leaned into him. His touch was comforting, and I knew he wasn’t going to force any more out of me than I was comfortable sharing. I threw my phone back in my bag quickly, forcing myself not to test and see if Alex’s number was still connected. I had better work on my issues with my current friends, rather than dragging old friends into it. “Come on,” I said, standing up and making my way back outside. The four other boys were huddled around the garden table, talking in hushed tones, and I assumed that I was the topic of conversation. I sighed, making my way back out into the heat and sitting between Pat and Jared at the end of the table. John sat at the other end of the table and the five boys looked at me, still concerned. “Okay, so, I think I have some explaining to do.”
“I’d say so,” Garrett said. “I mean, we’re going to be touring with a band who seem to make you flip out at the very mention of them.” My breath caught in my throat again when I realised what he’d said.
“You’re touring with All Time Low?” I asked, my eyes widening once again. I hadn’t even asked who the tour was with before I’d agreed, but I hadn’t thought of this as being a possibility. I was on the opposite side of the country and, out of all the bands my boys could tour with, I didn’t think it possible that they’d cross paths with Jack and Alex so quickly. I saw five heads nodding at me and sighed. I pursed my lips, trying to think of the best way to explain my current predicament. “Alex Gaskarth, from All Time fucking Low, is the boy who broke my heart. The entire reason I’m here.” Five pairs of eyes stared at me and I shifted in my seat. I’d never expected to have this conversation with them, so I hadn’t ever prepared what I would say. If Alex had ever become famous, I had expected that he would still never clash with my boys.
“We understand if you don’t wanna come with us,” John told me finally, after a couple of minutes of silence. Like I said, no one here expected me to tell them anything more than I was comfortable doing; they always understood when I told them I couldn’t do something, or I didn’t want to talk about something. It was the reason I loved them all so much. I bit my lip, weighing up my options. It had been two and a half years since I had seen Alex, but I didn’t mind that. I could go forever without seeing his face again if I had to. However, it had also been two and a half years since I’d seen Jack and that still killed me. I wanted so badly to speak to him again, and see how he and Marissa were doing. I hated myself for cutting them out.
“Well, Alex wasn’t the only member of All Time Low I knew and, you know, I do miss the other guys. It’s been two years, it can’t be that bad, right?”

Notes

Totally stuck on A Story to Tell Your Friends, and this has actually been written for a while.
Let me know what you guys think!