Change My Mind, Change My Heart (Jalex)

We've Got Unfinished Business - 21

Jack’s P.O.V.

I groaned, rubbing sleep from my eyes while retrieving the now silent phone that had awakened me with its previous shrill ringing.

The screen informed me that I had one new text, from none other than Alex. The thought of my adorable, gorgeous, sexy, amazing, perfect, beautiful, wonderful - I could go on all day – boyfriend texting me, even if it was at annoyingly early in the morning, replaced my previous frown with a mile wide grin. That is, until I actually read it.

Hey babe, read the black lettering, I’m sick, not going to school so you don’t have to pick me up. xxx Alex

My scowl only deepened as I punched in a response, wishing that I wasn’t busy after class and could, instead, play nurse for the older boy. For once, I actually did have to work on a history project with Alex G. He would do all the work, obviously, but I still felt the responsibility to at least try to help.

Aw ok, try to feel better and ill see you 2morrow? Love u. xxx Jack, I sent in response.

With that, I slugged my way to the shower and feebly attempted to shake the odd feeling from my mind. For some reason, I was ridiculously worried about Alex.

What if something happens to him? What if it’s worse than a cold, and he has a fatal disease and dies? What if someone breaks into his house and murders him when he’s home alone? What if…, the logical part of my brain jumped in then, interrupting my thoughts and exclaiming, Shut the fuck up, Jack, you’re being stupid. Alex is a big boy, he can take care of himself.

Even though I recognized the truth in those thoughts, I was unable to banish the feeling of dread infiltrating my gut.

Alex’s P.O.V.

“I’ll be home after six, alright honey? If you need anything, call me, or you can ask Mrs. Potter next door, I already called her and-" rambled my mother, who was perched in the doorway, hands clutching the worn wooden frame with one foot on the frayed welcome mat.

“Mom,” I said, interrupting her miny speech, “I’ll be fine. Ju-“ sneeze “Just go to work and I’ll see you” cough “later. Bye.”

She sighed in response, nodding once in conformation before gently closing the door and ambling over to her car.

I shifted in my spot on the couch, attempting to extract a few limbs from the blanket burrito my mother had transformed me into, in order to change the channel.

Flicking past The Wiggles, Spongebob, and What Not to Wear, the yelling face of Gordon Ramsey lit up the small TV screen, a contrasting smile appearing on my face. I’d always had a strange fondness for watching the British chef yell at the American idiot’s he worked with, even though I was only allowed that pleasure before noon. Apparently, others didn’t share my views on Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares, failing to earn it a spot in prime time.

Just as Ramsey screeched at someone about not ‘serving this BLEEP’, my body was racked with a coughing fit.

Once I was able to calmly suck oxygen into my lungs again, a stabbing pain took up residence in my stomach, sending me sprinting down the hall to the bathroom.

As I fell to my knees before the toilet and upchucked the soup crackers and water I’d previously eaten, I longed for my raven haired boyfriend to be there, holding my hair and rubbing circles on my back. He’d probably never be able to look at me the same after such an experience, but it would certainly make me feel better.

If only he wasn’t at Dulaney, sitting in what I knew to be his least favorite class as Ms. Carlisle droned on about the Civil War.

~

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. My final tally by ten o’clock was five boxes of tissues scattered throughout the living room, four times throwing up everything I’d consumed, and nine episodes of America’s Got Talent On Demand once Ramsey abandoned my TV.

My mother was still yet to return, as she had been forced to cover for her closest work friend, who was, apparently, involved in some family emergency. She was working the night shift and wouldn’t be home until four a.m., at the earliest.

Grabbing the bubblegum pink bottle off the table beside me, I discovered that the only substance to make the ache in my abdomen subside, Pepto-Bismol, was gone. Which left me with three options.

One, writhe in pain for the next six hours, until my mother could replace the stash.

Two, call my darling boyfriend from Alex’s house, disrupt his work, worry him sick, and send him to the store.

Or, three, go myself.

Deciding that three was definitely the most considerate and well thought out plan, I stumbled over to my room, where I pulled on a fairly foul smelling band t-shirt over my previously bare torso. I left the stained gray sweat pants on my legs, not being able to care much about my appearance at the moment.

A quickly glance at the mirror confirmed that I did, indeed, look like hell as I slipped on my Converse.

My nose was red and puffy, hair a disheveled mess, and eyes watery. Not my best look.

I shrugged as I stuck my cell and a twenty in my pocket, moseying out the door and down the street to the corner shop two blocks away.

During the short walk, my mind returned to Jack, for approximately the five trillionth time that day. Whenever my mind wandered, it went straight to that lanky boy. My thoughts were never far from him, not that I minded, seeing as he always managed to bring a smile to my face.

And that is why I was grinning like a fool as I continued my journey, thinking through every perfect detail of the boy I had the unbeleiveable pleasure to call my boyfriend.

Once reaching the shop, I quickly went to the medicine aisle and plucked up the little pink bottle before making my way to the cash register.

The bleach blond cashier eyed me through her crusty mascara as she rung up my meager purchase. Her cherry red lips turnied down in distaste at my current appearance and state of dress, acentuating her poorly conealed frown lines. It didn’t bother me, though. I knew I’d seen better days.

I called a ‘Thank you’ over my shoulder at the still scowling lady as I left to shop, preparing to begin my walk back home again as I heard a call of, “Hey, baby. Where ya think you’re going, huh?” before being shoved down the pure black alleyway adjacent to the store.

I knew that voice all too well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Whoops, cliffhanger. Did I or did I not make it blatantly obvious who that is? Who’s worried? Hehe. Comment and vote if you want Jack to swoop down from the roof and come to Alex’s rescue ‘cause he’s a ninja like that (~~~>). And sorry this is hastily written, short and shitty.

xoxo

Rose