How it Happened is Irrelevant (Mabbell)

21

A/n: There are some scenes that I had in mind for this book that aren't going to make it to publishing. If I made a chapter of deleted scenes (after the whole book is finished of course, which it won't be for at least another month), would you be interested in that?

Something about the way that Craig had been talking to Max was eating me alive. I was frustrated by the fact that I felt that way, mostly because I knew that I had no reason to feel the way that I did. They're just friends, so why does it hurt so much?

Because Craig and I aren't even really together, that's why. Losing my chance while I've just started to get it would be the worst thing that could happen. I don't want to go through this a second time. Unfortunately, the whole being frustrated with my own mind thing was setting me on edge completely. I kept snapping at everyone, even a fan at signing. Everyone stared at me while I apologized a thousand times. Max confronted me about it, which didn't help at all. We ended up just fighting. And I don't mean like we were shouting curses and names at each other, I mean like there were fists swinging at each other's jaws. Robert broke it up as soon as he'd seen that it had escalated. 

"What's going on with you today?" Craig asked me finally. I was trying to distract myself by playing a game on my phone. I would have escaped through social media, but everyone was talking about how rude I was to that fan. 

"Nothing's going on with me today."

"You're not being yourself. You never snap at anyone. And fist fighting with Max? Something's wrong."

"Great! Do you want a prize or something for paying attention?" I glared at him, not able to keep the ice out of my tone. 

"Lighten up, will you? I'm not going to let you take me out tonight if you're gonna be like this." He crossed his arms. 

I remembered what I'd told him the previous night. As much as I was overbearingly jealous, the reminder of the coffee just yesterday certainly helped. I could still feel Craig's fingers in my hair from even just this morning too. "I'm sorry," I sighed, "really."

"Can you at least tell me what's wrong? Or is it just an off day?" 

I shook my head. "I don't really know what's wrong," I lied. Telling him the truth was too much though. I couldn't face that. 

"Apologize to Max, too."

I bit my lip. The devil in me wanted to say something along the lines of 'he deserved what he got,' but he really hadn't done anything wrong as far as I was concerned. Maybe Robert or Craig had their issues with him in the past, but I didn't even really know him until rather recently. "Alright, I will."

"But not just because I asked you to."

"But I am sorry! I'm sorry that I can't keep myself from being an asshole every time I start to think too much!"

"You're snapping again," He reminded me gently. I noticed that I'd begun to move closer to the edge of my seat too. I moved back. Craig pretended to pout and rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. 

Like I'd said, I didn't apologize to Max just because I'd been asked to. I seeked him out when I could catch him alone. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. He heard me though. 

"It's alright." He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm sorry too. I did encourage you."

"What?" He encouraged me?

"You told me to leave you alone, but I didn't. I should have respected your boundaries. Besides, you weren't the only one swinging your fists." He looked at his own hands shamefully. 

"Oh, right. Well, I forgive you." I shrugged casually. I felt like we were finally friends again, maybe for the first time today. 

"I meant to tell you. As upset as you were, you really killed it today."

I chuckled. "There's a tangent."

"I'm serious. I've never seen you strum so tight before."

(A/n: Idk how to describe that. 'Strumming tight' is, in my opinion, when you play exactly the right strings without ever over strumming (strumming an extra string) and you play them very fast.)

"Thank you?" Max looked like he'd heard something that he didn't want to. At first I thought it was me, but then he left rather abruptly. Wonder what's up with him? I didn't have much time to think about it though, because in that moment, Craig came back from wherever he'd been. I'd almost forgotten about my previous promise. "Hey, Craig?" I asked. 

"Yeah?" He opened the mini-fridge, looking for a bottle of water. 

"How about bowling?"

"Bowling?"

"In about an hour."

"Okay."

"With me."

"Yes."

"On a date."

"I feel like you want me to reject you." He took a long sip of his water. "Do you want me to reject you?"

"Of course not!" I felt awkward. 

"Are you wearing that?" He gestured to my current outfit, which was still my stage clothes. After all, we'd just come off of the stage. True to my word, I hadn't drank anything that wasn't water or soda all day. Secretly, it was eating me alive. 

"I'm gonna get changed shortly," I assured him. 

By shortly of course I meant that after I took my shower I would be throwing clothes around the back lounge for ten minutes in my underwear. How can I have so many clothes yet nothing to wear? I've never worried about this kind of shit before. "What's going on back...whoa...." Kevin opened the door and took the scene in. In his hand, he held a red cup. 

"Is that Jack?" I gestured to it.

"Yeah I was going to- Or you can." I pried the cup from his hand and chugged the whole thing as fast as I could, dropping it afterwards. 

"Fuck that feels better." 

"Can I ask what you're doing back here? And why you seem to be having an episode?"

"I don't think I'm supposed to tell you," I confessed. I finally pulled out a black shirt (one of maybe four thousand) and jeans. "What time is it?" I began to get dressed.

"It's about ten to nine. Why?"

"And I'm walking in a straight line, right?" I took a few steps for him. 

"Yeah, I guess so. Why?"

I didn't answer his questions, and continued to get ready. I brushed my teeth five times so as to get rid of the scent of alcohol, and any trace of it. I didn't have enough time to dry and straighten my hair, so it would just have to be curly. Once off the bus for isolated secrecy, Craig looked me over. "You're taller."

"Don't tell Thrash I'm borrowing his high-tops." I looked at my feet. Then looked back up. 

All that I can say is that our date went well. Craig never found out that I'd had something to drink beforehand, but he did win by a lot. And by a lot I mean that my score was seventy eight and his was ninety. We suck at bowling. It was fun though. We shared but one lone kiss before re-entering the bus, sans-tongues mind you. The night was over far too quickly for my taste.