just friends ; jalex

14

surprisingly, this is the first time alex has gotten drunk in his own house.

it feels strange, comes with a sense of vulnerability. as if his mom will barge in at any second, apprehend him with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. but she's fast asleep, and when isobel gaskarth falls asleep, she stays asleep, so he decides he must be okay for the night.

jack went to bed about an hour ago... it's nearing two in the morning, and alex and lisa have been on facetime for about a half-hour now. how she's still awake, he has no idea. how she doesn't mind him flat-out drinking like an seasoned alcoholic, he— again, has no idea. she finds it funny, giggling at the dumb shit drunk alex likes to spout.

before you stop and call him an asshole for breaking up with some over a video call, consider this: alex could never do it in person. he'd sweat to death and chicken out. in a call, he can just hang up when things get too awkward. besides, who's to say that breaking up in person is any better?

"lisa," he says, and she looks up. the video quality may be shitty, but he can still make out her features, her tiny half-smile, her mess of hair falling over her shoulders somehow perfectly. can he really do this to her... ruin her day, her week?

"yeah?" she asks, and tucks brown locks behind her ears. she's probably expecting either more drunk bullshit, or something unexpectedly cute. he hates to disappoint... but for once in his life, he's about to.

alex ducks his head and stares at his bedsheets for a moment, threading them between his fingers. there's no good way to say it... no easy way to let her down. does he hang up right after he says it? does he wait for her to... no, she won't start crying, will she? 

"what?" she insists, giggling. "lex, don't keep me hanging..."

she'll be regretting saying that in a second, alex knows... and yet he draws it out even longer, unable to formulate the jumbled words he's kept in his head from the moment it all began.

"i have something to... tell you," he says quietly, and her smile fades slowly. she knows, from the moment the words leave his mouth, that this isn't stupid nor cute. however drunk alex may be, he has something serious to say, and she listens.

he likes that about her.

doubt strikes him right then and there. he can't do this. he can't do this to her. it'll fucking ruin her, ruin him, he can't make her sad, he can't bear making anyone upset. it's okay, they'll just stay together, and he'll wait for the day she breaks up with him instead...

"i can't do this anymore," he blurts. 

lisa freezes.

his words have a double meaning. he's either given up on life, or this relationship, and in lisa's eyes, both are equally awful. 

but at least she understand immediately.

"what do you mean?" she asks quietly, and through the grainy quality of his phone screen, he sees how scared she is. she's nervous. whatever he's about to say, she doesn't want to hear it.

he doesn't want to say it.

do you see the problem here?

it's too late to step away, to say, "sorry, never mind," to pretend that he meant something else, because there isn't anything else he can mean. he's dug his own hole, and now he has to get in it.

fuck.

"alex, are you okay?"

lisa's concerned.

that's sweet. that's nice of her. he can't fucking do this to her. 

"we..." he gets one word out and his throat closes up. you can do this. just two more words. say them. "we're breaking up."

everything goes silent. lisa stares at him in shock, not saying a word. alex doesn't blame her... he couldn't have managed a single word either. 

then, it sinks in. it hits both of them at the same time, because they stare at each other through the screens: lisa's face expressing, "what did you just say?" and alex's saying, "what did i just say?"

"what?" she utters in pure disbelief.

he doesn't have a good reason. you're supposed to, aren't you? a fucking five paragraph essay with all sources cited and paragraphs indented, a solid thesis and transitional sentences.

he has one cliche line. "it's not you... it's me."

maybe it's a good thing they didn't break up in person— because at this point, lisa would've surely punched him in the face.

"this is a joke," she says, as if she's trying to convince herself more than alex, "right?"

he looks at her and doesn't say anything. lisa's mouth is hanging open in shock.

the phone beeps. the call drops. 

he stares at the darkness of his phone screen. was it something he said?

-

"you did not."

jack is in shock, covering his mouth with one hand. 

"alex, you—"

"i know." alex lies back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. his eyes sting from crying... unintentionally, of course. shouldn't lisa be the one who's sad? in his mind, she's perfectly fine. "it just... came out. i couldn't help it."

jack laughs. it's half out of surprise, and half out of actual amusement. "god, i just can't... can't believe you sometimes," he says, and alex doesn't quite know if that's a good thing or not. he can't really concentrate right now, because inner him is focused on beating himself up about everything, about lisa. inner him is a fucking pro at words, hurling finely-composed insults at him over and over, and alex is as well-armed as a first-grader. no defense.

"i can't either." alex's voice is quiet, and he curls up around a pillow, feeling the bed sink as jack sits down beside him, putting a comforting hand on his back. there's nothing that alex wants more than pulling jack down and cuddling into him, closing his eyes and letting himself cry about the mistakes he's made.

and at this point, what does he have to lose?

eyes still closed, he pulls jack's shirt until the boy lies down, instantly worming up to his side. "you alright, lex?" jack asks, slightly surprised.

"no," alex admits quietly, and lets himself sink into jack's warmth, silently appreciating as jack wraps an arm around him. he doesn't even say anything when alex's shoulders start to shake and he lets out a muffled sob. "i fucked up, jackie, i fucked up so bad."

jack's ruffling his hair. "i don't think you did. i think you did what was right... or what will be right. you'll see. it'll all work out."

it's strange how jack always has the right words, always knows what to say... in situations like these, that is, any other place and he'd be a wreck, probably go off and ramble about boobs and pop punk. all in all, not a bad combination. "will it?" alex mumbles into jack's shirt, which he's probably stained with tears.

there's a pause as jack kisses the top of alex's head, almost absent-mindedly, as if it's an instinct.

"yes. i promise."