unREASONable by Arya Matthews
Track 15
Marshall
I can’t sleep. Surprise! My king bed with the softest jersey sheets has shrunk to a quarter of its size, and I keep flipping between being too cold and too hot, calm and downright panicked.
Alexandra kissed me.
I kissed her back.
Nothing has ever felt more right.
Nothing has ever felt more wrong.
CJ hasn’t told me anything outright, but it’s been clear as day he’s claimed first dibs, figuratively speaking because Alexandra’s a person and doesn’t belong to anybody. Still, I betrayed my best friend. I’ve been so worried about damaging the band with my irritation with Alexandra that I completely missed the fact that I could cause more damage by not squabbling with her. By liking her.
I like Alexandra? When did that happen? There’s nothing to like about the girl. She’s short. She glares daggers at me. She steals all of CJ’s time, not that she has to try very hard with those half-concealed, delighted smiles. Delighted and delightful. Crud. If I’m going to allow my thoughts to keel this way, I might as well stop pretending that there’s nothing about Alexandra that I like.
Her height is not actually an issue. It just makes her look younger than her age. And I’m impressed by her stubbornness. Despite all of my hostility, she’s still here. In terms of music, I know Alexandra’s holding back. She studied singing, but we haven’t heard her sing yet, not quite. She does some backups, and she’s good at that, but what is she truly capable of? How does she refrain from showing us up? If I had someone constantly harassing me about being a crappy musician, I would’ve taken every opportunity to shut them up. So, she’s patient, persevering, determined to succeed, and forgiving. Way too forgiving. I wouldn’t have put up with anyone who treated me the way I’ve treated her, but she still kissed me.
I can’t like her. I definitely can’t love her. I can’t love anybody. Love means being open and vulnerable. I can never be vulnerable. The only way I survived the hardest years was through closing up and never admitting to anyone just how much it hurt or how much I wanted to be loved or, at the very least, not ignored. I was a kid when I came to the realization that opening up could cause pain greater than any beating, and I’ve avoided vulnerability ever since.
Still, I can’t deny the attraction. The sensation of Alexandra’s lips on mine and the taste of her mouth overpower every other coherent thought other than the idea that I want more. Our last tour lasted eight months, and none of us had any time for anything. Shane was the only lucky piggy—Elise came along simply because she was doing her job and taking care of our performance outfits and styles. But the rest of us left Portland girlfriendless. I haven’t been in a relationship for over three years now. Too insecure. That’s what my last girlfriend said when we broke up. She might have been onto something. Alexandra triggers all of my insecurities. That’s probably why I couldn’t handle being around her at first. She’s CJ’s type, but now I realize she’s my type as well.
And now I made it all so much worse. I confused her and confused myself and…
I groan and climb out of bed. The only solution to this torture is music. And caffeine. I stomp downstairs, grab a twelve pack out of the pantry, and head to the rehearsal room.
My good old trusty Fender Telecaster, all black, of course, growls at me with a discord of unloved strings. I usually terrorize my acoustic Martin for songwriting, but right now I want some grit.
“Sorry, bud,” I say to the Tele and pat its matte side.
Done with tuning, I plug the guitar into my laptop. I’m going to finish that song I started a while ago. It tingles at the tips of my fingers, and it’ll be epic.
“That sounds awesome.” CJ walks into the rehearsal room in the morning.
I sit on the floor under the window, surrounded by clumps of paper and empty soda cans. As I stretch, the guitar strap bites into my bare back. I rub the sore spot. “You think it has potential?”
CJ crouches in front of me, pulls over my tattered notepad, and scans the lyrics. “Yeah. Devastation, Free of Charge? I like it. It’s punchy. What inspired this?”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind recently.”
He looks up at me. “Alexandra?”
My first instinct is to lie, but we never lie to each other. CJ’s my safety net, and I’m his. I should tell him about last night. That would be right, but I limit my response to, “Among other things.”
CJ continues staring me down. He knows I’m fibbing. “Is this a song for her? She did beat you last night. Again.”
“Yes, she can have it, but we’ll tell her you wrote it.”
CJ scowls at me like I’m a complete lunatic. “What? Why?”
“Because you like her?” I suddenly feel like I’m digging my own grave.
He tosses the notepad on the floor and stands up. “I do like her, but what does it have to do with who wrote this song?”
A bitter sting zings through my chest at his admission. I push it aside. “She won’t give it justice if she knows I wrote it. Things haven’t been exactly smooth between us.”
“I suppose, but you should give her the benefit of the doubt,” CJ says. “She would do it justice either way. She’s an amazing musician. But she’d do an even better job if you were a little nicer to her.”
I rise to my half-asleep feet and hang the Tele on the hook on the wall. “Being nice is your job. She likes you better anyway.” Alexandra might have kissed me last night, but she didn’t deny it when I said she liked CJ best.
He grins. “That seems to be the case.”
I want to punch that grin off his face, but the idea of us throwing fists over a girl quickly dampens the flare in my temper. We’ve never had girl trouble, and we never will. “Just tell her you wrote it, okay?”
CJ nods. “I will if anyone asks.”
That’s good enough for me.
> <
We gather for our usual breakfast before rehearsal.
Alexandra comes in last. “What’s with all the red containers in the entryway? I almost broke my legs trying to get past them.”
“First of November,” Shane says. “Elise is decorating for Christmas.”
Alexandra gives him a dumbfounded look. “Christmas is two months away.”
“Yup,” Zach joins. “We always work during the holiday season. Private and corporate parties and such. So, we will have our ornaments and cookies now, thank you very much.”
He and Graham set out breakfast. Boiled eggs, ham, cheese, berries, and thin slices of multigrain bread. Could be worse.
“But there’s another holiday before Christmas, isn’t there?” Alexandra nurses a slight grimace. Looks like she still can’t wrap her mind around Elise’s tradition. “Giving of thanks something rather?”
CJ pats her head. “Thanksgiving, yes. It’s just that Elise loves Christmas most of all, and I promise you, it looks spectacular.”
“It sure will once I’m done with it.” Elise enters the dining area and plants a loud smooch on the younger O’Neal’s lips.
Zach uses a piece of bread as a blinder against them. “Marshall, holler us some carols.”
“Hundred bucks.” I start making myself an open-faced sandwich from the breakfast offerings.
Zach takes out his wallet. “I got twenty. I can wire you the rest.”
“Cash only.”
Elise doubles over in a full laughing fit as four five-dollar bills fly in my direction.
CJ adds another twenty. “Alexandra, how much you got?”
“A buck.” She pulls out a folded dollar out of her jeans pocket and almost throws it in the pile, then puts it away at the last moment. “But I’ve heard him sing. It’s not worth the money.”
Everyone, including Graham, laughs. I try to glare at her but can’t. I laugh along.
Zach wipes the tears under his eyes. “Oooh, she got you good, Marsh.”
Alexandra won’t meet my eyes, but her lips curve in a devilish smile.
“Good job, Matryoshka.” CJ boops her on the nose.
I almost growl at him to keep his hands to himself, but it’s me who should stay away. He’s won Alexandra’s heart first.
My thoughts dart to last night. I remember her soft skin and warm lips and—
Please, brain, make it stop! That kiss was just a fluke fueled by many difficult days and an exciting evening. Nothing to it.
Alexandra grabs a bowl of berries and sits on the sectional. She does that a lot—excludes herself while we’re having fun. I want to kick myself again and again. I’m to blame, of course, but I’ll fix it. I’ll make sure she’s comfortable enough to enjoy everything with us, if she wants to.
In the meantime, I want to know why she won’t look at me, so I go over to her. Alexandra is watching videos on her phone again.
“What are you watching?”
She puts her phone screen down. Her eyes travel down my body then snap back up to my face. I check whether I have a problem with my clothes and realize I’m still only in pajama bottoms. It’s never been a problem before. The Vipers have seen each other wearing much less than that. Elise too because she’s our stylist. I’ll have to remember to be more careful about roaming around wearing who knows what. Not that I have anything to be ashamed of. The workouts and the diet have been paying off for years now.
Alexandra bites her lower lip and keeps her eyes locked with mine. Hold on a moment. Is she blushing? Yup. A subtle but definite pinkish hue spreads across the tops of her cheeks. I want to tease her about it, but we’re not alone, so I grab a fluffy gray throw off one end of the sectional and wrap it around myself.
“What are you up to?” I ask again.
Alexandra exhales and pulls out a phone out of her pants back pocket. “Did you know about this?”
She shows me our Insta account, which isn’t what she was poring over a moment ago. It’s also not the same phone. The one she used to watch the videos is smaller, in a dark blue case, still next to her thigh. This one’s new, black and caseless. Why would she have two phones?
Alexandra must notice my curiosity because she scoots to sit on the smaller phone and waves the new one in my face. “Did you already know or not?”
Last night, Charlie posted an announcement about our participation in a one-day alternative rock festival in the middle of March. The festival marks six months almost to the day since Alexandra joined us. I wonder if The Label is testing her that way. If she pulls off the festival with us, great. If not…
“I saw it this morning. And you’ll be fine. You’re making mountains of progress.”
Her eyes are full of hope and despair all at once. “Really?”
“Of course.” I mean it.
“Are you harassing my matryoshka again?” CJ says from the table.
Alexandra smiles and looks at him over her shoulder. He points to the seat next to him, and she leaves me, stashing one phone in the back pocket again and the other in her sweater sleeve.
I glare at CJ and can’t stop no matter how much I try. I want him to see it and I don’t. I want to tell him to stop saying she’s his, but I can’t. Because she is. Had I been nicer to her from the start, she could’ve been mine.
The front door chimes, followed by a familiar chatter of voices—Fiona, Charlie, and Juliette. Always together.
“Ready to rock your first concert?” Charlie goes straight to Alexandra like the rest of us don’t matter anymore.
“No.” Alexandra covers her face with her hands, and CJ rubs her back.
Charlie does the same. “You will be. There’s still plenty of time to practice. Now, ready to decorate?”
“Wait. I have a little surprise for the guys,” Fiona says.
Everyone looks at her, but just like Kiera, Fiona’s a big fan of dramatic tension. She eats a few berries, slowly, savoring every bite, pours herself a drink of water, then drinks it.
“What kind of surprise?” Zach’s the first one to lose patience. “Alexandra level of surprise or regular surprise?”
Fiona smiles. “Regular surprise. The Label thought you all were really good boys this year and cleared your schedule from now on until the festival. No gigs, no interviews, no parties. Enjoy yourselves. And work hard in the meantime, of course.”
Graham’s eyes bulge, and Shane whistles.
“No kidding?” the younger O’Neal says.
Fiona nods. “No kidding.”
That’s unbelievable. No public engagements for four and a half months? We can chill and write music and do whatever else we want? That kind of freedom ended the day we signed with The Label.
“The president must really, really like you,” Shane says to Alexandra.
She throws a half-eaten strawberry at him. “I told you I don’t know him!”
“Who do you know then?” Shane continues, obviously teasing her. “Which strings did you pull to get us this luxury treatment? The Russian mafia? KGB?”
Alexandra laughs and rolls her eyes at the same time. “It hasn’t been the KGB for more than two decades. It’s the Federal Security Service now.”
“So it’s the Russian government after all,” Shane exclaims. “I knew it.”
“Leave her be.” Elise pushes Shane away, who spins on his bar stool with a chuckle.
“And don’t make me print the contract to remind you that you agreed to no questions asked,” Fiona adds.
Yes, we did, but that doesn’t mean we’ll stop being curious. Why her? And what’s with the two phones?
Exhausted, I slump on the sectional, already snuggled in the plush comfort of the throw. I’d better stay out of the girls’ way. They may wrap me in lights and tinsel if they deem me a nuisance.
My phone chimes. I pull it out of my pocket and curse when I see an email from my literature class teacher. I missed two assignments. Great. With all the drama around here lately, the class has been the last thing on my mind. Or, to be more accurate, not on my mind at all.
Juliette sits on the armrest of the sectional and reminds me of something else.
“Did you delete the photo of just me and Alexandra from that little photo session?” I ask.
Juliette shoots me a hesitant glance. “No.”
“Why not?”
“You look good together, and I like it.” Having whispered that, she scampers away and joins the girls as they start decorating.
I like the idea of me and Alexandra too, but it isn’t happening.