He saw him in one of the school bathrooms yesterday – it’s been a while since they’ve spared each other a glance. Alex nodded in greeting, and got a small, somewhat sad smile in return. He forgot why he came in, and awkwardly took the sink next to the other boy, looking down at his hands. His eyes couldn’t help but wander to the other boys’ – his long fingers and smooth-yet-calloused hands never ceased to amaze him – and he let out an involuntary gasp; there were several scars on his wrist, some of them new, others dying. The boy shot his hands out from under the running water, and pulled his Mickey Mouse hoodie sleeves over them, taking a step back. Alex met his gaze – a spark of a secret and a little bit of cornered made his heart clench.

“I-I’m sorry if I scared you,” he stuttered, eyes darting from the other boy’s wrists to his eyes again. “The water was colder than I expected.” A pathetic excuse, but it was the first thing to come to mind.

The other boy nodded, still cautious as ever. Alex turned his back to him, slowly wringing his hands under the water. He heard a scuffling of footsteps and the door close, and he let out a breath, leaning against the sink.

Wrist-scars always got to his head. He found them absolutely mortifying ever since he was eight, when he actually understood what they were and how they came about. There was always the possibility that it was caused by an accident, but Alex knew that boy far too well, and he knew these incidents far too well. It’s easy to put two and two together, even if it means tearing his heart to pieces.

That boy’s name is Jack Barakat, and he was, is, and forever will be the love of Alex’s life. Jack used to know that he was, is, and forever will be Alex’s love, but Alex managed to fuck himself over and lose him around May – that’s five months.

He and Jack were best friends ever since Alex moved from Essex to Baltimore three years ago – they just instantly clicked. They liked the same music, had the same sense of humor, and were free to be themselves around each other. Not everything was smooth sailing at first; a new, openly bisexual boy with the most beautiful honey eyes and smile, hanging around with the only openly gay kid in Dulaney was bound to stir up some rumors, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. With some time and plenty of perverted jokes, the rumors died down, leaving them unscathed and free, for the mean time.

What Alex did wrong – or what he deemed wrong at the time – was that he fell in love. No, not with someone Jack loved. With Jack himself. It was a good feeling, and he and Jack agreed to try it out. The first week was great – it was all snuggles and cute little kisses – but Alex managed to drift away when he made new friends – friends that convinced him that Jack wasn’t all that great. He doesn’t know what stupid-ass trigger in his brain made him do it, but he did it; he broke up with Jack the next day. He broke up with him even if he knew there was enough shit going on in his life, and he’s really sorry for that. He just hasn’t told Jack that yet. He’s sorry for that, too.

Zack entered Alex’s bedroom to do the horrid job of getting him up – like every other morning – and was surprised to see that he was all prepared, sitting up in front of his ‘work’ table. He couldn’t tell, but it looked like he was looking through pictures on his laptop. Zack couldn’t hold back rolling his eyes; it’s so Alex to depress himself before a perfectly fine day. He cleared his throat, and Alex jumped, immediately swiping his fingers in a manner that it showed only the desktop. He cleared his throat, turned in his seat, and smiled at the scowling boy. “Mornin’, Zack,” he said, his smile growing a bit more in an attempt to appear innocent.

“Don’t try that with me, Alex,” Zack said curtly. “What were those photos?”

“Old friends,” he replied, a little bit too nonchalant.

Zack’s lip curled up in a smirk. “Really? Back from Essex? Well, give me a look – your friends were my friends. Maybe you even have a little blackmail there.”

“Oh, no, it’s no one you kno—“

Zack did the same swiping motions and all the programs fell back in place, the one most recently used falling on top; iPhoto. It was a photo of Jack and Alex on what appeared to be Alex’s bed, Alex sitting in between Jack’s legs and extending his arms to take a photo. They were both smiling, and it was a pretty sweet and simple picture – adorable, even – but Zack knew it would be too much for Alex. He moved to the next photo, knowing that Alex couldn’t bear just looking at one; it was another photo of the two of them. Clicking away Zack went, each one followed by another adorable photo of the two of them. He finally reached the end of the folder, and they were both silent.

“Don’t hate me,” Alex groaned, getting up from his seat and plopping down on the bed face first. “I fucking miss him,” his voice was muffled by the sheets, but Zack could hear the sincerity.

“Well, don’t tell me that,” Zack sighed, sitting down next to him, and giving him a light tap on the head. Alex turned his head to look at him, huffing, hair all over his face. “You tell Jack. I can’t do shit about this.”

“Wingman?” He sounded hopeful.

Zack chuckled, patting his head once again. “As your therapist, I don’t think that would be the right way to go with it. A wingman’s job is to make you seem better than you already are, but I don’t think Jack needs persuading.”

“Really?” The ‘bitch please’ splattered all over Alex’s face was enough to get Zack to crack a smile; at least Alex knows how much he screwed himself over. “So, if tomorrow I decide to start talking to him again, he will just fall into my arms because he’s been fucking waiting for me to crawl back to him.”

“It doesn’t sound half bad, but I don’t know the guy, so I can’t really say.”

Alex huffed, and kicked his bed. “You’re the worst therapist ever.”

“And you’re the worst patient,” he said fondly.

~*~*~*~

Jack couldn’t help but glance over at that loud table, smack center in the cafeteria. You know, that crowd. It wasn’t that he longed to be there, nor did he hate them; it’s just that there was someone looking right at him. Or, well, he thought.

He dropped his gaze the moment he noticed – or, think he noticed. “Cassadee,” he breathed under his breath, the blonde-streaked brunette’s head snapping up at the sound of her name. “Look at Gaskarth.”

She nodded and flicked her hair over her shoulder, her eyes shifting slightly; Jack knew that was enough for her hawk eyes. “What about?”

“What’s he looking at?”

“What does it matter?” Matt Flyzik laughed, taking a bite of his Mickey-shaped sandwich. He brings lunch suited for a five year old – the creepy part it that he makes it for himself. “And who are we talking about?”

“Alexander William Gaskarth of the British islands,” Cassadee said in a faux-British accent. Jack cracked a smile and looked down at his own lunch. She could handle him. “His eyes are a-wondering.”

“Really?” Jack’s head snapped up just in time to see Matt whip his head around, being the painfully obvious boy that he was.

“Matt,” he hissed, but it was too late. Matt turned back to the fuming Jack and a laughing Cassadee with a huge grin on his face. Jack risked a glance at Alex, who looked thoroughly baffled – but at least he didn’t see Jack look. He couldn’t help but think of how Alex was never really good at hiding his confusion. “The fuck, dude?”

“You got me curious, so I looked.” He shrugged, taking another bite from his sandwich. “Besides, it’s not like that douche would notice; everyone stares at him. Looking at him just once will just inflate his head a bit more. It’s no biggie.”

Jack forced a smile, trying his hardest not to reprimand him for calling Alex a douche. “You’re probably right.”

Cassadee shot a look at Matt before patting Jack on the arm and giving him a small smile, which he acknowledged with a small shrug. “Matthew, you’re such a terrible boy,” she tsked at the other.

“Sorry, Mom,” he shot back.

Jack carefully snuck a glance at Alex through his fringe while his two friends continued to bicker happily. The older boy was picking at his lunch – something that Jack knew meant that he was thinking. Really, really deeply. Rian Dawson playfully tried to shove Alex off his seat, and he smacked him over the head, and then they both laughed. Jack held back a sigh; he used to be friends with Rian Dawson, too, way before Alex came along. But he knew better than to try to repair that, or even think or repairing it; it’s been too long.

A friendship – his and Alex’s – that started in freshman year was shattered after a two-week ‘relationship.’ Their break-up was over absolutely nothing. It isn’t even a metaphor of saying it was over something stupid – it was seriously nothing. All that was clear about the situation was that Alex wasn’t one to be trusted; he would just leave him when he would need him the most, and needed him at that time, he did. Jack convinced himself that Alex was unhealthy for him – he obviously found something in Jack that was not worth his time, and Jack found something in Alex that should seem like a lot, but isn’t really much to him; he learned that this boy wasn’t really all that he thought he was, and he has raw proof of it.

Despite all of this ‘convincing’, though, he couldn’t help but feel the ache whenever he’d give a small thought to him. He thought it was just some sort of post break-up depression, but he doesn’t think it’s supposed to last this long. Everything Alex did drew him closer to him – if he was smiling, he felt some bitterness seeing he wasn’t experiencing the pain Jack was going through; if he was sad, Jack wanted to know why and snuggle with him like they always did; if he was happy, Jack wanted to be the reason why.

“Jack, ten minutes,” Cassadee said softly, snapping him out of his reverie. He nodded and picked up his and – as with manners, and even if she hated it – her bag, slinging both over his shoulder. She smirked when he did this, and they began walking out. “You’re too much of a sweetheart, Jack. You know that?”

“It’s all you tell me every time I do something nice.” He rolled his eyes at her.

“It’s because it’s true, Jack,” Matt mocked in a lovey-dovey tone, puckering his lips at him. Jack laughed half-heartedly, and shoved his face away – he know they were both only trying to cheer him up. Matt caught sight of one of his friends, and bid goodbye to the other two, walking ahead.

Cassadee and Jack were silent for a while, then she spoke up, trying to sound nonchalant, “He was looking at you, you know.”

“Was he really?”

Cassadee’s smirk grew. “Yeah. Problem was, you were looking back at him.” Jack groaned. There goes his low profile.

Notes

Chapter title cred to All Time Low.

New site to post on!! I've got this on Mibba, as well, so if you're more comfortable there, then give it a read!!

Next chapter will be up soon seeing as how I have this written til' the 14th chapter :-) Have a great day!!