A/N: I love the Jalex relationship, but what I love more is the Jalex brotherly-sisterly love. :) There's a little bit of Alex & Max sibling love, (Malex?) but it's mostly Jalex... I think...
Lyrics used: Six Months by Hey Monday. (some lyrics removed)
In this fic, Justin is 20, Alex is 18, and Max is 16. ... That's how it would work, right?... If not, close enough.
Manhattan
by Pwnguin
You're the direction I follow
To get home
Manhattan streets are so cold at night. Walking home with no jacket and no one by your side makes it seem even colder, lonelier. Normally someone would be by my side as I walked home, but I broke up with him. I said things weren't working out. Typical and overused, I know. I knew I would let him go sometime, so why wait. I never felt anything from Dean since the start. Who was I kidding. I laugh at myself, wondering what I ever saw in a guy who called me by my last name. It took three years... three long years of dating Dean before I realized how much I had grown up and changed.
I look up at the streetlights, wondering if I'm lost. I almost pick up my phone to call my brother, but then I remember that, even if he does pick up his phone, he won't be able to walk me home. California's not that far... but it's far enough to keep me away from Justin. Instead, I call the brother who does live at home.
"Max Russo, at your service," he answers. It's not even funny anymore. Maybe the first two times... maybe just even the first time. To lighten my mood, and keep Max satisfied, I let out a giggle. It sounds fake.
"Max, I think I'm lost," I say into the phone.
"Lost," he echoes, clearly not amused. "Alex, you've lived in Manhattan your whole life, and you're lost."
Yeah. I'm lost without my big brother. I wonder about how Justin would answer... "Why don't you ask Dean to help you?" He never liked Dean. He always seemed so bitter when I talked about him. I knew it was because I never spent any time with him. It was boyfriend this, boyfriend that. Never, big brother this, big brother that. I would be aimlessly walking the streets if I had called Justin. If Justin was home.
Max doesn't acknowledge the silence, "I got Dad's keys. Where are you?"
When I feel like I can't go on
You tell me to go
"This is impossible," I mutter to myself. Only one month of school left before I graduate. I could almost kiss Tribeca Prep goodbye. It's these final tests that are getting in the way. I stare at my Pre-Calc homework. It would've been Calculus homework if I wasn't so bad at math. Numbers make my head hurt. I sigh in defeat. How will I ever graduate?
Max is walking down the stairs, skateboard in hand. I look up at him and ask, "Do you know anything about trigonometric functions?"
He looks at me with an are-you-kidding-me? look, "I know that this skateboard functions by putting one foot on the board, one on the ground and kicking. Why don't you call Justin to help you?" Without even waiting for me to respond, he's out the door.
Yeah. Call Justin. I haven't talked to him for months now. What makes Max think that Pre-Calculus homework is going to make Justin talk to me? I stare at my phone. Then I dial Justin's number.
After four rings, his voicemail comes up, "You have reached Justin Russo. Please leave a message, and I'll get back to you." I groan and hang up. I hate leaving messages.
I doodle a cartoon that resembles Aladdin and Jasmine flying to a whole new world on their flying carpet. Then I remember the time Justin taught me how to fly the magic carpet. Best teacher I could ever have.
My phone rings, the caller ID reads: Justin. I pick up, "Hello."
"Alex. You... you called?" Justin says.
"Yeah, I did."
"What's up?" he asks. I don't know... he sounds... interested.
"Nothing... just that I'm failing Pre-Calc, and just getting by in everything else."
"Oh. Wow. Well, hang in there sis."
"No! How am I ever going to get through the rest of high school if I'm a straight D student, and a failure in pretty much everything?" I groan.
"Alex," he says. He always sounds so serious over the phone. I don't know if it's the phone, or he's really serious. "Really. Don't give up. Maybe you won't be able to get a decent job, but you have the Sub Station. You have musical talent. You could get into fashion. I don't know, but look at all the possibilities."
I stay silent. I hate how he always encourages me and makes me feel better.
"Hey, I gotta go. Talk to you later?" he asks.
"Yeah," I say. "Talk to you later. Love you, Justin."
"I love you too."
And it's like I can't feel a thing
Without you around
I sit on the terrace listening to the sounds of the city below. As a city girl, this soothes me. I've heard of beach girls that listen to the ocean waves to calm their nerves. I've heard of country girls that listen to...cows moo... or something. As a New-Yorker, honking horns, cars zooming by, and noisy people make me calmer. My serenity is interrupted when I hear my phone ring. I look at the caller ID and groan. It's Dean. Since I'm too nice of a person (not really), I answer the phone, "Hello."
"Alex," he says. He called me Alex. Even though he said he should start calling me Alex with that wooden card, he never did. Until now.
"Hi, Dean," I say uncomfortably.
"Listen, I've been thinking, we should get back together. What do you say?" he asks hopefully.
"Dean. I broke up with you. It's usually the break-up-er's job to beg to come back, not the break-upped-with," I say, annoyed.
"So, then you're begging to come back to me?" he says.
I shake my head, disgusted, "Dean, I've told you before, I'm not like other girls. When I say something, I mean it. And when I break up with someone, it's for good." I hang up my phone and hope he never calls again.
I suddenly feel bad; I almost call Dean back. Then I shake my head. How can I love Dean? How can I love at all...
I can't think of anybody else
Who I hate to miss
As much as I hate missing you
I lay on my stomach, flipping through an old photo album I found under my bed. Most of them are pictures of Max, since Mom is so overly obsessed with her youngest child and so afraid of him growing up. Doesn't she ever worry about her middle child, maybe her eldest? Why does she hang on so tightly to Max, and she still has the ability to let Justin go. Even I couldn't let Justin go. I still suffer from this missing-my-older-brother disease. How can Mom miss someone who is still here?
My bedroom door opens, and in walks Max. He smiles and says, "Hey, what's that?" He takes a seat on the bed next to me.
"Just an old photo album," I say.
"Hey, are there any embarrassing pictures of you that I can show everyone on the Internet?" he asks, greedily.
"No," I say. "They're mostly embarrassing pictures of you."
Max is suddenly quiet. Then he says, "Okay... we shall not speak of what these pictures hold ever again. Why are they mostly of me anyway?" he asks, as he flips through the memories.
I shrug, "Mom made this one. I'm thinking she's afraid of her youngest son growing up."
He laughs, "Mothers."
"Max?"
"Hmm?" he says absentmindedly as he looks at picture of himself at his 10th birthday party.
"Do you miss Justin?"
"Justin?" Max asks, and looks at me. "Of course I miss Justin. I mean, you and Mom and Dad are great and all, but sometimes I wish my big brother was here to mess with you guys and get into trouble like we used to. Why?"
I answer, "I guess it felt like I was the only one who missed him. Mom and Dad seem to be so obsessed with you, and afraid that you'll grow up, but they don't pay any attention to me, or even Justin who already grew up."
Max puts his hand on my shoulder, something that Max would never do, "Are you kidding? Justin isn't grown up. He's just discovering who he is."
I look at Max, disbelievingly, "Did my little brother just say something profoundly deep?"
He shrugs, "I don't know what 'profoundly' means, but all I know is that Justin told me that yesterday on the phone. Hey, you wanna go on the terrace and shoot spitballs at the people below?"
I smile. Good ol' Max. Since Justin's not here, I'll oblige. "Sure."
Months going strong now
And no goodbye
Saturday morning, I wake up late. It's 9:30. Mom and Dad have probably already gone downstairs to open the Sub Station. I go down the living room, and find my parents sitting at the couch watching TV. I wonder if something is wrong.
"Mom? Dad?" I call. "Shouldn't you guys be at the Sub Station?" I ask.
Mom stands up and greets me with a large smile, "Oh, don't worry, your brother's got it covered." She gives me a big hug, a hug that isn't quite necessary. "Why don't you go down there and help him out?" I turn to Dad, and he's smiling.
I laugh, "Oh yeah, he's gonna need some help, alright." I go upstairs to change out of my pajamas. Mom and Dad must have grounded Max for some reason. Whatever it was, it must have been bad, since Max has to run the Sub Station by himself. I laugh, and wonder how much of a wreck the Sub Station must be in right now. I hurry downstairs.
Surprisingly, the place is in good shape. Maybe it's because there aren't a lot of people here early Saturday morning. There is no breakfast rush. At least I got down here before lunch rush.
I step into the kitchen and Max is facing the sink washing dishes, "Hey, Max, what did you do to have to cover both Mom and Dad's shift?"
He turns around, smiles, and I scream. I jump into my brother's arms and give him the biggest hug a little sister could ever give, "You're home!"
Justin laughs and pats my back, "Missed me, huh? You missed me so much, you didn't recognize me."
Hey, wasn't my fault. Max has grown up a lot. I punch my big brother in the arm, "What are you doing here?"
"Thought I'd pay Manhattan a visit. I've missed it too much," he says nonchalantly. He wipes off a dish and places it on the dish rack. I eye him.
"Is that it?" I ask. He missed Manhattan, yet he didn't mention missing Mom, Dad, Max or me.
He turns to me and scoffs, "Of course not!" He smiles at me, "I missed my baby sister, too."
Unconditional, unoriginal
Always by my side
I walk down the hall to the living room. Then I notice Justin's room. He had gone inside to study. I didn't see a point. It was Spring Break, and he was spending his time studying in his bedroom. He could've been in California enjoying the ocean air and the sandy beaches. Yet he was here in Manhattan, studying. What a life he leads. I stand at the door, almost afraid to knock. What if he was too busy for his little sister? I step away from the door, but then a voice comes from inside, "Come in, Alex."
I open the door and lean in the doorframe, "How'd you know I was here?"
He's sitting in the bed flipping through a text book. He looks up and says, "Please. You're my sister."
I roll my eyes and sit down next to him. "Advanced Engineering. Fascinating."
He shuts his book and looks at me, "What's up?"
I shake my head, "Nothing really. I just wanted to talk."
He taps his pencil on his chin, "Well, so... talk," he says and looks at me. "What's up?" he asks again.
I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head, "I broke up with Dean."
He looks at me, shocked, "Really? I thought you were in love with him." He puts his arm around me.
I shrug, showing that I didn't care, at the same time trying to get my brother's arm off my shoulder. It doesn't work, "I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel anything for three long years. It took me three long years to realize it, though."
He laughs, "Of course."
I look at him, "What do you mean?"
"You've grown up, Alex. You're not the same sixteen-year-old kid I left two years ago. You've learned something," he says.
"What did I learn? Love sucks? I should never think I love someone until I know I'm absolutely sure?" I suggest.
He laughs again, it's starting to annoy me, "Alex, you're only 18. You have plenty of time to find the right person. Right now, just live life to the fullest."
I smile, "Or else what, I'll end up boring like you?" He hits me with a pillow. I shove him in the shoulder. We are so immature.
You love me
I love you harder so
Justin's been home for a week now. Soon, he'll be leaving for California. Leaving home, leaving Manhattan, leaving me. I sit on the couch hugging my knees to my chest. This week was the best. I spent so much time with Justin. I wasn't ready for him to leave. I feel my cheek getting wet. I don't want to be seen crying.
I hear footsteps coming down the stairs, but I don't look back to see who it is. I already know it's Justin. He sits down next to me and places a hand on my knee, "Alex," he says in a serious tone. So it's not just over the phone, he's always sounding serious.
"Justin," I say in the same tone.
"Spring Break is over," he says. I don't turn to look at him. I don't want to miss him. The easiest way to start is to start hating him for leaving. That way, I don't miss him.
"Mmhm," I mumble and stare at the TV, which is off. I'm better distracted when it's off, I have no idea why.
"Alex, I just wanted to let you know," he says.
"Know what?" I ask. "That you'll miss me?"
He smiles, "Why would I need to miss you?"
"Because you're leaving?" I say sarcastically. I look at him. He's smiling. I feel a pang in my stomach. He's not going to miss me, and he's telling me that. I am going to be sick. I don't want to cry in front of him, so I don't.
He laughs, "Alex," he gets up and stands in front of me, "Guess what."
"What. Make it snappy, you're blocking my view of the TV."
He rolls his eyes and says excitedly, "I'm not going anywhere."
"Really, I'm missing my show Justin," I hope he doesn't think I'm serious. He might send me to a crazy house for thinking the TV is on.
He suddenly picks me up in a hug and spins me around, "Put me down!" I shriek, but there's a smile on my face, I can feel it.
"I mean, I'm not going back to California," he says, putting me down.
I squeal and give him a hug, "Why?! Justin, there are so many opportunities out there for you, you can't just stay here."
He gives my forehead a kiss and says, "But 'out there' isn't home. My home is a street called Waverly Place, in a town called Manhattan."
So please give me your hands
So please just take my hand
A/N: I really liked this one. (: I don't know what else there is to say... so... your turn to say something. :D