© Copyright 2012
All work is property of Leah Crichton, any duplication or reproduction of all or part of the work without explicit permission by the author is illegal.

Sawyer had band practice following his incarceration. Sebastian liked to call it rehearsal but it was still band practice. It was like calling someone who pumped gas a petroleum transfer engineer. There were still a gas jockey, weren't they? Just like band practice was still band practice no matter what Seabass wanted to call it.

The only difference now was that they practiced in a studio rather than Sawyer's parents garage. Thank God for that. The minute Sawyer got his first royalty check, the only sound in the air was his tires squealing as he drove off and never looked back

He was late. Great. Another job perk. Between the shit hours and that broad Alexa, he had no idea how he was going to make it through another five hundred and forty two hours.

He grabbed his Rubic's Cube from the back of the bike, felt his pocket for his smokes and headed inside.

Lane munched on a bag of vegan chips and Charlie sat on the couch, head down, texting like a madwoman. Robbie's hands were over his head twisted in some unnatural position that Lane must have taught him and Sebastian was screwing with Sawyer's pedal board.

“Step away from my board.”

Seb smirked. “Or you'll what? Lay a hand on me and I'll press charges,” he joked. “Then you'll have more time to spend at Paper Planes. How was it by the way?”

“I'd rather have my teeth pulled without anesthesia than go back, that's how it went. Now get your narly feet off my board.”

Sebastian held his hands up in surrender trying to suppress a laugh. “Whatever, man. You missed rehearsal.”

“Then unpack your crap and we'll do it again,” Sawyer said.

“Um no,” Robbie interrupted. “I have a date.”

“With who?” Sawyer pressed, “your hand?”

Charlie looked as if she were fighting her gag reflex. Sawyer could recognize the expression from Devin. “Oh my God. You're disgusting. He's got a date with Tally's cousin, she set him up.”

Well wasn't that something. “A blind date, that shit never works out.”

Robbie cracked the top of a can of Coke and chugged a good portion down before he responded. “Right 'cause people are fighting for the chance to set you up, huh, West? Gimmie a break. You've probably never been on a blind date.”

“Right you are,” Sawyer said. “That's because I'm not relationship material.”

“Yeah,” Seb cut in. “Sawyer's more the love em and leave em type.”

Sawyer grinned and Robbie shrugged. “Your loss man, one day, I'll find some fine ass girl as beautiful as Charlie.”

Charlie's face flushed and Sebastian's eyes narrowed as he placed a hand protectively on Charlie's shoulder. “Fine ass?” Sebastian questioned. “What does that mean?”

“It means Robbie's got the wants for your girl,” Sawyer offered.

Robbie went beet red. “I didn't mean it like that. Charlie, I would never call your ass fine. At least not in front of an audience. At least not in front of you.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Just shut up about my girlfriend's ass, man.”

“Alright,” Robbie said. “Fine. Ass. I won't say anything else.”

“That's probably a good idea,” Lane said.

Sawyer pointed his index finger at his friend. “You involved in any conversation about asses should never be. Can we get back to talking about band practice, please? Anyone talked to Bennett?”

Bennett was their manager, like royalty appointed by Moody Records. Sawyer didn't like the guy but he obviously knew what he was doing. This time last year, they were on the first leg of their first tour in the states. Now, there was talk of a worldwide tour. All the more reason to be done with Dr. M, Alexa and Paper Planes.

The four of them were stunned regarding the events of the last twelve months. How they ascended from virtually unknown to hometown heroes to having a decent sized fan base to well... this... never ceased to astound them.

Problem was, if they didn't keep the band in top form, it could all be taken away in a flash. Gone like it never happened to begin with. Sawyer was well on his way to becoming exactly what his stepdad despised; successful and filthy rich. All the more reason to protect their fame or die trying.

"I talked to him yesterday. Said he will have more news about the next tour in a month or so," Sebastian said. "In the meantime, we have the Summer Solstice and he booked us at Summer Slam as of yesterday. Plus we have that signing and a few charity events."

"Good," Sawyer said. "At least he's earning his keep."

Lane sighed. "Are we done? I promised Devin I'd pick her up later for our art project."

"What art project?"

Lane slung his bass case over his shoulder. "You know. That one."

"What one?"

"You know. One and the same."

"Screw you and your riddles," Sawyer said. "I'll pick up some grub."

"We haven't had a family dinner in a long time," Robbie said, glancing over at Charlie.

"Are you suggesting that I should make all of us food?"

"If you're offering," Robbie replied, "sure. Can't use my place though. I moved all my stuff from my parents place last night. It's like an episode of hoarders in there."

"It can't be at Seb's and my place either. If I'm cooking, I am sticking one of you with the mess so we can eat and run. It's a commandment. She who cooks shalt not clean."

Robbie, Seabass and Charlie all turned in Sawyer and Lane's direction. "You're not honestly suggesting one and a half guys should host a dinner party. Lane is gay. It's pretty stereotypical to assume he's a regular Betty Crocker, yeah? Forget it."

"No one is assuming anything except that you'll never change," Sebastian said.

Sawyer shrugged. "If something is not broke, you don't need to fix it."

Lane was used to Sawyer's constant taunting by now and found him easy to ignore. "We could host it."

"No," Sawyer objected, "we can't."

"Sure we can," Lane said. "But it will have to be next weekend."

Robbie's eyes swirled with excitement. "You're outvoted."

“Whatever,” Sawyer turned to Lane, angry that he missed band practice, angry that Robbie was being a pain in the ass, angry that they were all in agreement. “I'll meet you at home.”

Alexa wrung her hands nervously. Gabby was focused as she drove, her eyes never wavering from the road in front of her. They were on their way home from work and had stopped for Chinese food. The scent carried through the car and made her stomach grumble.

“Aunt Gabby,” Alexa tried to reason, “he's terrible.”

“Alexa please, I don't want to discuss this anymore.”

“But I'm the one who has to work with him!”

“Here's one of lifes hard truths. There are going to be people you work for or with that you don't like my dear. You can't avoid people you don't like. It's a fact of life. Try to look at this as a lesson.”

“Of what not to look for in a man?” Alexa fired back.

“Of whatever you want it to be. You have already made a judgment which is your prerogative but that doesn't change the fact that you are stuck with him and you're going to have to make the best of it.”

Aunt Gabby could be as infuriating as Sawyer West.

The pulled into the driveway of the Craftsman and Alexa grabbed the bag of Chinese food, slamming her door. She didn't care what Gabby thought. This was completely ridiculous. He was completely ridiculous.

Thomas Edison's purr preceded him as they entered the house. He began to wrap himself around Alexa's legs, nearly tripping her. “Thomas!” she scolded. “Move.” His small grey face paired with large amber eyes looked innocently at her, as if he were wondering what his offense was.

Guiltily, she set the food on the side table and reached down to pick him up and stroke his soft fur. “I'm sorry, Thomas. I didn't mean it.” Thomas rubbed his face on her cheek. He'd forgiven her. “I have to eat, Tom but we can cuddle later,” she promised.

She picked up the food as Gabby came in behind her. Alexa moved to the kitchen and began to unpack the boxes. Chicken chow mein, sweet and sour pork, and fried rice were on the menu that night. Aunt Gabby was many things, but a chef was not one of them.

Alexa scooped some of the pork and rice onto her plate and started to eat. The flavor was out of this world. “Mmmmm,” she said.

“Good, huh?” Gabby said. “Lin's is my favorite spot for Chinese.”

“I can see why,” Alexa said. “It's delicious.”

They finished eating in no time at all. Alexa rinsed her dish placing it in the dishwasher before turning to Gabby. “Good night Auntie.”

Gabby was shocked. “What? You're going to bed?”

“Yeah,” Alexa said. “I'm tired. Besides, you said you wanted to leave early for work tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” Gabby asked. “I thought maybe we could take in a movie.”

Alexa felt bad. But she wasn't impressed with Gabby and her delinquent program. It wasn't something she'd signed up for when she'd volunteered that summer and now Gabby wasn't budging or listening to reason. But rather than be as difficult as that jerk Sawyer, Alexa opted to keep her mouth shut, figuring it was for the better. Thomas was at her feet again and she picked him up. “I'm sure. Maybe tomorrow night? For the movie?” She just wanted to go to bed.

Gabby's shoulders fell in disappointment. “Alright then. Tomorrow sounds good.”

                                                                           ***
Alexa woke up perhaps even more irritated than she did the day before. The first thought to flit through her brain was none other than Sawyer West. The guy got under her skin and agitated her mind like a washing machine on spin cycle. She didn't want to see him, much less talk to him and the last thing she'd do is befriend him.

She swung her legs off of the bed and glided them into her slippers. After a brief shower she left her hair down to air dry and applied some mascara and lip gloss. Gabby was already at the table when she made her way to the kitchen and a plate of fresh fruit, granola and yogurt was spread out across the glass table top.

They ate mostly in silence. Walking on eggshells after the tension of yesterday. It was too much. As she spooned granola on top of her fruit and yogurt she made a decision. Sawyer West would not intimidate, infuriate, or in-anything to her. He'd be nothing more than a challenge. A blip in her day which may cause a temporary upset or insanity but he would not get the best of her.

The clarity with which this thought came made her smile.

“Whatcha thinking?” Gabby queried.

Alexa shrugged. “That I can't wait to hear Jerry's poem.”

Paper Planes was a tranquil place, particularly in the morning. The sun had just begun to peek from the horizon, casting pale pink purple beams throughout the sky. The gardeners were already hard at work tending to the shrubs. The plants must know so many stories, Alexa thought. So me of them were older than the building itself and she wondered what secrets may be hidden in their green veins.

She found Jerry setting the table for breakfast. “Morning, Jer,” she said.

Jerry grinned. “I didn't read you my poem yesterday,” he said.

“I know,” Alexa replied. “I wanted to hear it but it was my first day back and there was lots of stuff to do. Do you have it here?” she asked. “I'd love to hear it.”

Jerry shook his head. “Naw, just in my room. But we can go get it, if you want.”

Alexa took the cutlery from him and set it beside each plate as Jerry set them down. “Sure we can do that.”

After the table was set up to Jerry's very specific standards they headed to his room which was located on the far end of the corridor, next to the nurses station. It was one of the larger rooms here which Mr. Abbott, Jerry's dad paid a premium for.

As they walked, they passed a room with its door shut, blasting music like it wasn't seven in the morning. “Who is in There?”

“Oh,” Jerry replied. “That is Sadie's room. She doesn't come out unless she has to. Which means to eat once in a while and for group. Other than that she keeps to herself. Lindy is the only one brave enough to go in there.”

Alexa nodded. She wanted to find out why.

Inside Jerry's room was plain with a tartan comforter and navy pillows. A single photo of Jerry with his mom and dad was placed lovingly at the head of his bed. Other than that, the room was sparse.

He swept his hand to the bed, “sit, Alexa.”

Sit Alexa? Was she a dog? She obliged, flopping herself down on the bed. Jerry's leg was shaking so fast, it vibrated. He couldn't help it. It was one of many compulsions he had. He walked to the drawer of his nightstand and removed a tattered piece of loose leaf paper. He cleared his throat.

“Alexa is like the sun on a cloud covered day,

She can see my deepest secrets,

She knows the things I want to say,

Her laughter sounds like music,

I love to see her smile,

I'd do anything to make her happy,

I'd go the extra mile,

Alexa is the warmth inside,

When everything goes cold,

Nowhere for my heart to hide,

With her, I'm not alone.”

Jerry looked embarrassed as he folded the paper and placed it in the breast pocket of his shirt. “I'm not quite done yet.” He looked at the floor. “But that's what I got so far.”

She stood up and opened her arms. “Jerry! That was beautiful. Thank you so much for taking the time to write that for me. Would it be alright if I asked for a copy, you know, that I can keep?”

His embarrassment morphed into undeniable cheerfulness as he hugged her back. “Well sure, but not this copy,” he said. “I want to make it nicer.”

“Okay Jerry,” she replied. “But honestly, thank you!”

“You're welcome!” he said. Pride was clear in his voice.

Alexa pulled away. “I have to go see what Auntie needs me to do today, but I'll see you after breakfast.”

“Sure Alexa. I'm going to finish the good copy later!”

As she walked back to the main area of the ward, she passed the room with the music blasting. She folded her hand into a fist and brought it up to knock. She pounded on the door and the music came to an abrupt halt.

“What?” came a female voice inside.

“Um. Can I come in?”

“Suppose you can,” the voice replied. “I mean you're physically able to. Whether I want you to or not, is another question all together. Who are you?”

Alexa opened the door a crack and peered through the space. “I'm...um...my name is Alexa.”

“Whatever. Come in.”

She pushed the door further and stepped into the room. The girl on the bed in front of her was not what she expected. The only other schizophrenic Alexa knew was Newman, and he was twenty.

She was rather small in build. She had light brown hair braided to the side. It looked very long, maybe down to the middle of her back. She wore a cut up band t-shirt and shorts with leather wrist cuffs on both hands. Were they hiding something? Her eyes were almost as amber as Thomas Edison's, round and incredibly large framed by black lashes.

Her room was nothing like Jerry's. The comforter was coal black and all of her accents were red. Alexa moved toward her, squinting. Not a single white space was visible through all the band posters. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Image after image after image of the one she never wanted to look at again. Sawyer West.