unREASONable by Arya Matthews
Track 17
Alexandra
The next morning Marshall acts like nothing’s going on whatsoever. I have violent thoughts because I can’t stand this. What is he doing? I’m going to lose my mind.
It doesn’t end there. We spend the next three weeks walking around in circles. And maybe he’s not walking with me, and I’m the one circling him, but it wears me out either way.
Other than that, everything is great. We write new songs. I learn my way around a recording studio. Project Viper is amazing. I thought they’d be kicking and screaming against writing a new album so soon after the tour, but the songs pour out of them. Even Graham, the ever-quiet drummer, has a lot to contribute to our creative flow.
What’s more, they listen to me. I’m still hesitant to suggest anything, but when I can’t keep my mouth shut, they discuss my ideas on equal footing with their own. I’ve never dreamed of being in a band, but now I never want to leave. The past two and a half months with them have been the best time of my life.
A couple of days before Christmas, the Vipers pack up to go to Utah to spend the holidays with Zach’s family. I don’t feel like I should go. It’s still quite possible that I’m here only temporarily, and I don’t want to turn this into that one year that girl ruined the holidays.
Everyone is throwing boxes and their bags into the minivan when Kiera video calls us by means of Marshall’s phone.
“Oh, you’re already heading out? Great,” she says. “Alexandra, love, look at you. It’s as if you’ve always belonged with the boys. How are you doing? How are you getting along? Aren’t they just the best?”
CJ hugs me with one arm like he always does. Judging by his raised eyebrows, he’s curious to hear what I have to say about them. I like CJ a ton. He’s reliable, steady, and fun to be around. The other Vipers are great too, of course.
Marshall clears his throat, and I realize I still haven’t answered Kiera’s question.
I blink and smile. “They’re the sweetest creatures ever.”
“You know that’s right,” Zach says with a laugh as he tosses the last bag into the minivan.
Kiera smiles. “Oh, I just knew that you would get along fabulously. Which is perfect because I scheduled you all for a radio interview in downtown Salt Lake. I know, I know. We promised you holiday freedom, but please do this one little thing.”
I freeze on the spot. Even though Kiera had us go through a photo shoot and prepare a whole pile of social media materials, an interview is different. I’m not part of the band yet. Not officially. I’m still on probation. Please keep me. Please?
“Fantastic.” Marshall beams at Kiera. I can’t tell if he’s serious or not. I can’t decipher him at all lately. “When?”
“Twenty-third, so tomorrow. At four. I’ll email you all the details. I’m thinking Marshall, CJ, and Alexandra could go. Alexandra, sunshine, you don’t have to if you don’t feel ready, but it would be really good practice for you. The rest of you can join if you’d like, but it’s up to you. I know how much you all love interviews, especially you, Graham.”
The older O’Neal mutters a thanks.
“We could do a couple of songs,” CJ says. “Alexandra has the cutest little acoustic bass, and we can definitely work something out by tomorrow night.”
I detach from the band. The conversation ends without me, but I’m a ball of fear and don’t realize this until Zach appears in front of me and asks, “Where are your bags?”
I remind myself that I don’t have to freak out. Kiera gave me a choice. Relief washes over me with such enormous force, I exhale and face the guys. “I didn’t pack. I decided it’d be best if I stayed. Fiona invited me to spend Christmas with her—”
“What do you mean with Fiona?” Zach exclaims, sounding genuinely hurt. “You don’t want to meet our family?”
Shane crosses his arms and glares at me. “That’s bad team spirit, Matryoshka. Especially without a warning.”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to come.”
“Why wouldn’t we want you to come?”
I turn to CJ for backup, but he lifts his hands and shakes his head. I’ll get no support from him. Marshall then. I guarantee he’ll be the one to tell them to leave me alone.
He marches over, picks me up, then stuffs me into the back of the minivan. The rest of the guys hop in as fast as they can. Graham’s at the wheel and starts driving before the door closes all the way. Marshall buckles me in even though I fight him for it.
“I can’t go! Not without my ID.” Among other things.
That seems to change his mind.
“Graham, wait.” Marshall turns to me. “Where do you keep it?”
I start unbuckling, but Marshall holds my hand. “Where is your ID?”
“I’m in pajama pants!” I yell at him. And if he doesn’t cut it out with the manhandling, I swear he’ll be singing at a much higher pitch.
“For the last time, where is your ID?”
I glare at him, but Marshall doesn’t blink. Stuffed in the back of the van, without an escape route, I can’t win this. I cross my arms and turn away. “In the desk drawer in my bedroom. Take my passport too.”
Graham pulls up to the guest house.
I’m mad as a wraith. When Marshall hops out of the van, I shout, “And get my jacket!” At least I’m freshly showered and wearing my favorite sneakers.
It takes him all of five minutes to run into the house and come back with my jacket, my mini Taylor, and, surprisingly, a small Project Viper duffel bag I got from Kiera upon my arrival. He tosses the bag onto my lap. I check the contents and find my wallet, passport, toothbrush and toothpaste, hairbrush, two pairs of socks, and lip balm. For crying out loud, he got my lip balm. I seethe a little less when I see no underwear. At least he didn’t rifle through all of my belongings.
I zip the bag shut and toss it under the seat. “I’ll have to go shopping when we get there. I am not spending the entire trip in pajamas.”
“It would serve you right,” Zach grumbles from his seat in front of me. “I can’t believe you decided to stay behind. I mean, I get why you’d want to ditch Marshall, but what about the rest of us? What about me? What did I do?”
“It’s not that.” I squeeze his shoulder, more awkward than comforting.
“Sure, sure.” He faces me, eyes full of promises that he’ll never forgive me for this.
But I’ve got a trick up my sleeve. If I have figured anything out about Zach at all by this point, it’s that he loves attention. “Want a hug?”
“That’s the least you can do to atone for your awful behavior.” He jumps out of his seat and squeezes between me and Marshall, who chuckles and kicks Zach back the moment he gets his hug.
“As for shopping,” Zach continues, smiling now, “I’m sure one of my sisters will be happy to take you. If not, I will.”
I point a finger at Marshall. “And you’re paying for it. I had no plans to buy new clothes.” Then I gasp. “We forgot the presents I got you. They were under the tree. You were putting stuff there, so I put mine too.”
CJ waves to grab my attention. “Relax. Graham grabbed everything.”
I remember the boxes in the trunk and lean back in the seat. There’s nothing more I can say to prevent or even delay our departure.
We’re off to Utah.
If all goes according to plan, it’s a twelve-hour drive from Portland. But life is life, and traffic can be a woman of ill repute. We leave at nine and hope to make it by midnight.
CJ wastes no time and dives into the discussion about the upcoming interview. Shane, Graham, and Zach refuse to go, but eventually, CJ convinces me to come and play and sing. I do need to practice being in public with Project Viper, and this is an easy interview. No crowd, just the DJ and maybe a couple of other studio people. We’ll say I’m a friend of the band, sing a couple of Christmas carols, and CJ and Marshall will sing a Project Viper song. I can do that.
After that, CJ announces it’s time to start watching movies. The minivan is equipped with a top-notch entertainment system, of course, so we watch A Christmas Story. They say it’s a classic. I’ve never seen it before and can’t focus on the show because my thoughts are all about the interview tomorrow.
I don’t know any carols. The only thing I could probably play without thinking too hard about it is Jingle Bells because I figured it out on my own when I was a kid. That was a long time ago. Maybe I can’t even play that anymore.
I get so wound up, I start feeling sick to my stomach. I thought I was getting better, but I’m not ready to perform as a member of Project Viper at all.
After we navigate out of insane Portland traffic, Zach passes a basket of snacks to Marshall. “It’s for you two to share.”
The basket is loaded with junk food. Chips, candy, fruit leather, long chocolate-covered pretzels. The moment the Vipers are out of Kiera’s watchful eyes, they rip off the leash.
Starving, I reach for one of the pretzels, but Marshall shields the basket with his body. He gives me a look that says something along the lines of, “Just wait,” and digs through the snacks, then drops a tiny candy cane Hershey’s kiss into my open palm.
“That’s it?”
“What more do you want?”
There’s something in his eyes I can’t quite explain. He’s not joking or mocking me.
I look at the piece of candy in my hand. I still can’t figure it out. “It’s just a Hershey’s kiss.”
He grins and continues watching the movie. “It is a kiss.”
I unwrap it carefully because I derive weird pleasure from being able to smooth out a wrapper and stuff the candy drop behind my cheek. It’s sweet. It’s minty. It’s nothing special. I shake my head at Marshall and his cryptic antics.
> <
I thought the Tangs had a big house in Portland. Their residence in Utah is monstrous. It’s made to look like a log cabin, but it’s enormous. When Zach sees me gaping, he proudly informs me that it has fifteen bedrooms, ten bathrooms, three kitchens, and so on and so forth. To which I can only say, “Why?”
He laughs and pats me on the shoulder. “You’re silly.”
His dad, Jung, is happy to see us but asks us to be quiet as we proceed inside because it’s five minutes before midnight and everyone’s asleep already. I’m happy to oblige. I’ll be happy to sleep as well if anyone will show me where. I don’t even have to say anything. Jung shows us to the bedrooms on the second floor. When the lights go on, I see that the guys get a room with bunk beds. I get a room with a single bed, like a princess. Sweet.
Exhaustion presses me into the soft mattress, but I’m still wound up and worry I won’t be able to sleep. The next thing I see though is white light streaming through the gaps around the curtains. It’s eight in the morning. I can hear and feel a bustle of activity downstairs. And children’s squeals. Lots and lots of squeals. Small feet running back and forth, up and down the stairs. Just how many kids are in this house?
I get a text from CJ asking me to come practice a bit before I go shopping. My nervousness flares up and consumes my whole body with a feverish grip. Once again, I remember what Fiona had told me right before I met the Vipers.
No fear.
I repeat it the whole time I’m taking a shower.
Chaos rages downstairs. I was right about the kids. There are hordes of them running through the house. I stand there in the middle of the living room and watch them spread glitter and glue over every surface while they supposedly make something on a low table in the corner, yelling, giggling, and jumping from couch to couch. There’s a movie going on for them on an enormous screen, but no one’s watching. This is like nothing I’ve ever seen back in Russia. I don’t know what to make of it.
Zach appears by my side and guides me into the kitchen. Bowls of cereal litter the dining table and the breakfast nook counter. Christmas tunes pour from the radio, but the music is drowned out by the animated chatter. My eyes jump from person to person to person (there’s at least a dozen strangers in the room), and I cling to Zach’s sleeve.
“Found her,” he announces in his usual upbeat voice, and I want to smack him when all eyes turn to me.
CJ motions for me to come sit with him, but I’m intercepted by a group of four women. There is exactly zero doubt they are Zach’s mother and sisters. All as one have the same dark hair and the very same smile Zach tends to have.
“Your father said she was a cutie, and she is a cutie,” says the oldest of the women, Zach’s mom. “Better snatch her quick, Zach.”
Even if I can’t see my cheeks burning, I can sure feel it.
Zach chuckles, but his tightly pursed lips betray his embarrassment. “I would have to beef it out with CJ and Marsh, and I don’t think I’d come out of it alive, Omma.”
I want to smack him again, and Zach seems to know it since he beelines to the other end of the kitchen and grabs a bowl.
“Always late to the party,” says Zach’s mom. “I’m Seo-yun. And these are my daughters Kayla, Hazel, and Nari.”
I get introduced to the rest of Zach’s family—his paternal grandparents, his sisters’ husbands, a couple of uncles and aunts, a cousin or two. It’s a lot of people.
I get a suffocating amount of hugs, then Nari grabs my hands. “I’m gonna take you shopping when you’re ready.”
“Thanks.”
When I finally make it to CJ, he whispers, “You okay?”
I breathe out and nod. “This is fun.” I mean it. I’ve never had so many family members. Mama came from a single-parent household, and even though papa didn’t, neither of my parents had any siblings, and both sets of my grandparents died when I was young.
I try to relax while I wait for the guys to finish breakfast, but I don’t eat anything—I don’t like cereal, and my stomach is touchy because I’m still nervous about the interview. Of course, there’s also the usual worry that if I eat anything, I’ll throw up, and that’s not something I fancy doing at the radio station.
Nari lends me a pair of jeans and a sweater. A second before I step out the door, Marshall sneaks a wad of cash into my palm. I take it without reservations. In fact, I don’t even say thank you. He’s the one who stuffed me in the minivan without letting me pack.
Nari talks the whole time we drive to the outlets.
“We’ve been dying to meet you. Zach’s been texting about you non-stop for the last few days, worrying we’d overwhelm you.”
“Is he allowed to talk about me to anyone outside of Project Viper?” I joke and tuck away the warmth in my chest caused by his concern for later.
Nari grins. “He probably figured that since we’d meet you anyway, there was no point in keeping your existence secret. How do you like the guys so far?”
That is a popular question lately. Kiera asked me that last morning as well. “They’re good.”
“They are good. CJ seems to have taken you under his wing.” Nari shoots me a curious look.
I know what she’s trying to pry out of me, so I summon my most casual tone to say, “He’s cool.”
“And Marshall?”
I’m not going to think of the time he kissed me. And I will definitely not think about how often I wish he’d kiss me again.
I shrug.
Nari laughs, probably guessing what I will never say to anyone as long as I live, and keeps talking the whole time we’re out and about. I don’t mind. She helps take my mind off my nerves.
When we get back, Marshall grins at the clusters of bags in my hands. “Did you get enough?”
He gave me a thousand. Athousand bucks. First the mini bass, now this. Is he made of money? Either way, I did my best to burn through it, but Nari took me to sensible shops, and there are holiday clearances everywhere. I hand him back the remaining four hundred. “I did my best.”
“Then hurry up and change. You have a bit of time to eat a snack, but then we’d better go. It looks like it’s going to storm, so we’re leaving earlier.”
I run to my room and sort through the bags. I need to put on makeup too. My outfit consists of a cute sweater dress, silver with sparkling threads, white tights, and knee-high white boots. Not my favorite colors, but I look darn good, and I get further proof of that when I bump into CJ downstairs. His eyes travel down my figure.
“Are we ready to go?” I adjust the strap of the mini bass around my shoulder.
He clears his throat and looks at something above my head. “Did you get anything to eat?”
“I’m okay.” Even thinking about food churns my stomach. I’ll eat later, once the interview is over.
Jung volunteers to drive us even though Marshall and CJ are more than capable. “I know the area better,” he says and sighs with relief after we close the door behind us. I suspect it’s because he wants to escape the noise for a while.
My anxiety balloons as we drive to downtown Salt Lake City. I keep mentally chanting Fiona’s encouragement. No fear. No fear. Forehead pressed to the cold window glass, I watch the picturesque canyon landscapes. Utah is beautiful. Very clean. Snowflakes drift down from the darkening skies. There was a moment almost nine months ago when I felt like one of those snowflakes—tossed about by the mercy of the wind.
Where am I now? Another country, but it feels like a whole other world. A new family, but are they really? My wildest dreams have come true, some of which I didn’t know I had—joining Project Viper, becoming someone who might be recognized by hundreds of thousands of people in the future, kissing Marshall Jones. Sometimes I pause and wait for this dream to end. It’s too good to be true.
I close my eyes when my anxiety morphs into dizziness and take deep breaths.
No fear.
CJ taps me on the shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I force out a smile. “Never better.”
The weather does worsen. It starts dumping snow in earnest, congesting the traffic, and we arrive at a tall building with gleaming windows with only minutes to spare. CJ leads the way and checks us in at the reception. The two girls behind a tall, polished wood counter crane their necks to see Project Viper members better. Both of them give me a fleeting look before switching their attention to Marshall and CJ, who flashes them a comfortable smile. “How’s it going, ladies?”
They giggle at him, for which he rewards them with Project Viper pictures with his autograph on them. Smooth. He gave them exactly what they wanted before they even asked.
“You’re good to go. Seventh floor.” One of the receptionists gives us the badges, caressing CJ with her eyes. She slides him a card with a number scribbled in black marker. When did she write it down? That aside, is it what it’s like for CJ all the time? Judging by his pleased smile, he doesn’t mind. I do. Is that how guys are going to react to me if my status with Project Viper is confirmed? I will never be able to flirt it away as easily as CJ does it.
I think I’m going to throw up after all.
Marshall pulls out his phone on our way to the elevators. “I’ll let Kiera know we made it.”
My phone buzzes, and even though I know it’s probably a group text Marshall has just sent, I still check it.
MJ: It’ll be great. They’ll love you.
He’s trying to encourage me. Because he wants to be nice to me or because he wants to make sure I’ll do well and won’t let them down?
The elevator doors slide open, cutting my time to overthink short. Here we go.
The DJ does love me. So does everyone who manages to call in and people online. At least I think they do. The session is a blur. I’m introduced as the band’s friend and don’t get any particularly tricky questions other than a few about my music career. I practiced those with Kiera when I first arrived from Russia. If anyone asks, I’m an up-and-coming musician partnering with Project Viper for a music experiment. So I say just that. We laugh at some social media comments and play a few songs. My cheeks hurt from smiling. Somewhere in the back of my mind there’s a memory of us posing for pictures.
In the elevator again, going down, I’m overwhelmed with relief. My hands feel clammy and my small Taylor mini bass hangs like a hundred-pound boulder on my shoulder. I grip the stainless steel railing inside the elevator to prop myself against the weight of the bass and wipe at my clammy forehead. It’s too hot in here.
“Alexandra?” CJ’s voice slithers through the fog in my mind. He’s right there next to me, but I can barely hear him. Who stuffed cotton balls in my ears?
“I’m fine.” All I have to do is get back to our van. “I just need some air.”
I make it to the van parked outside, snow blurring my vision. My cheeks are so hot I swear I can hear the snowflakes sizzle as they hit my face. CJ slides the door open while Jung clears the windshield. Marshall waits behind me, I think. He becomes less solid and more of a presence, a shadow, as my vision darkens. My knees start losing feeling in them.
The world tilts to the side. No, it’s me.
The Taylor slips off my shoulder. CJ catches it. “Whoa!”
“I got you.” Marshall’s arms wrap around me before I fall.
My body thinks it’s done its job, delivered me to safety, so I black out.