Jesse's never been to the Big Apple. He totally calls it that. So, Alex has no choice but to smack him upside the head as they're sitting in a mostly empty subway car, sharing the jumbo chocolate chip muffins they "liberated" from the sub shop. But, since everything's new, she humors him and goes to a lot of those tourist places like the Empire State Building, and Central Park, and Times Square. It takes an ungodly amount of time, and it's like she's toting around all her younger cousins again, except without all of the sticky handholding and shouting in Italian.
He's happy the whole time, like permanent grin, fresh-faced and easygoing. And seeing him like that makes all the crowds and walking and going to the Central Park Zoo for the millionth time pretty worth it.
They get pizza from a vendor a couple of blocks from the zoo, making their way to a 7-Eleven because he's out of cigarettes.
She takes a huge bite of her slice, talking with her mouth full. "Are there foods in Albuquerque that are like New York pizza? You know, like that people get there because they're, well, there."
He's polished his slice down to the crust, and he's got sauce on the corners of his lips, and it's pretty adorable. "I guess Mexican food is a pretty big deal." He glances at her. "Are you Mexican?"
She nods. "Well, my mom is Mexican. My dad is Italian. So, I'm both."
Jesse seems pretty focused on something as he crumples up his greasy napkins and does one of those flashy basketball tosses into a trash bin. "Your mom's Mexican. Your dad's Italian. You live on a street called Waverly Place. And you're a wizard."
He doesn't say anything for like a block and a half.
"What?" Alex says.
"Yo, I don't know." He scratches his head through the material of his beanie. "Thought I had something, but I fucking lost it. I swear you still look familiar."
"Understandable," she says. "Considering all of those hot dreams you have about me."
He rolls his eyes, smirking a little, and he's holding his hand flat about a foot over her head. "You gotta be at least this tall to ride this. And you know, legal and shit."
"You know, I have a wand that could make both of those things happen, right?"
They cross the street, silent for a while until he says, "Oh, the ABQ is also really big on green chili."
She elbows him. "Secret ingredient: chili p, yo!"
He gives her a double-take as they walk into 7-Eleven. "Yo, didn't I tell you to stop quoting me or whatever? Makes me feel like I'm SpongeBob-fucking-Square Pants. And it's creepy as hell."
The image of Jesse in a pineapple under the sea wearing tube socks and junk is too much, and Alex's cracking up as she surveys the drink selection.
She grabs a Diet Cherry Coke, turns to the front, and catches a glimpse of that stupid grey retro gas station shirt she's way too familiar with. "Crap."
"What?" he says, though he's not looking at her. He's got a Mountain Dew in one hand and a Dr. Pepper in the other.
As he's debating sodas, she's trying to decide if she has enough time to duck and hide. Because Mr. Gas Station Shirt is walking with some blonde chick in a way-too-short skirt and a stupidly ironic Power Rangers shirt and she's pretty much cackling at whatever he's saying. They're right out by the front door.
Alex steps by Jesse to stand behind a chip display about forehead level. She lowers her voice. "My ex-boyfriend is about to walk in here. And I really don't want to talk to him, like at all."
Jesse turns on the heel of his sneaker, gripping a Mountain Dew, just as Dean and Blondie stroll inside.
"Youse gotta try anchovies at least once. They smell nasty, but those fishes don't taste nothin' like they smells." Dean's voice is as loud as ever, and it kind of physically hurts Alex to hear it. His new girlfriend or whatever is still giggling. Maybe she has like a condition, like Tourette's or she's the devil. Dean tickles her side in the candy aisle. "All's I'm sayin' is youse gotta have an open mind when you order at Sal's. Ya order cheese at Sal's and they'll kick ya out big time."
Alex is so focused on remembering Sal's on weekday nights of garlic knots and those salty, tiny fish and sometimes Dean's apartment afterwards when his mom wasn't home and she'd break curfew and say things like she missed her connecting train that it takes her a while to notice Jesse's snickering.
He's pretending to read the back of a pack of Funyuns. He whispers, "Why does your ex sound like he's doing a shitty impression of Fonzie? Like shit, does he strut around with a toothpick in his mouth and call people wise guys?"
"Oh, because you're white guy gangster act is so cool."
He trades his Funyuns for Jalapeño Doritos. "Yo, I'm legit, bitch. This douche seems about as badass as a stuffed bear in a leather jacket signing Elvis."
She glares at him, though it's kind of hard to look intimidating when you're hiding in snack foods. And yeah, Dean does have a leather jacket, and he may overdue the whole I'm-from-New-York bit a little too much. Who cares?
Jesse grabs for some Sun Chips, and it's a huge mistake. The packaging crunches in his grasp like it's wired with microphones. Alex tries to bend down lower, but her hair gets caught in the metal rack, and she clears a row of individually wrapped Oatmeal Crème Pies to the floor like it's her job.
Dean and the female version of The Joker are by the Slurpee machine, staring at her. And she hopes they both die of brain freeze.
Alex attempts to just sprint right out of there, but the second she moves, she remembers she's still literally attached. She starts to detangle herself from the convenient store fixture when Jesse chuckles. Now is really not the time to make fun of her.
"Whoops." He's like projecting or something, like everyone needs to hear this. And gosh, he seriously needs to shut up. Instead he steps behind her, one hand heavy on her hip, the other freeing her hair. His voice is kind of gravelly. "You're so cute when you're clumsy."
Just as she's taking in the warm weight of Jesse's chest on her back, his mouth is against her neck, and all thinking floats away into a sunshine land of rainbows and princess castles and things she would never ever admit to featuring in her happy place. She may even shudder as he presses another kiss closer to the hollow of her throat.
Dean's face is like a candy cane: pale and red all at once. He makes some joke to his girlfriend, but she's giving him a suspicious stink-eye, even after he's paid for their slushies and they waltz out with him attempting to hold her hand.
Alex has deliciously lost count of how many times Jesse's kissed her, only mildly embarrassed by the way that middle-aged dude buying batteries is staring at them.
"They bounce?" He's kissing his way closer to her ear.
She hates herself for it, but her eyes are all fluttery, and she swallows hard. "Not yet."
His laugh feels like the bass of a stereo against her skin. "Liar."
He pulls away with a big, loud smooch on her cheek like this is some hilarious joke she's needs to get in on.
Alex tries, really hard to, smoothing her palm down the side of her face like she can wipe away her flush. But, she's a quivering, flustered mess. He seems to notice, because he just laughs harder.
She's doing something with her voice that may be chuckling as they walk up to the counter. They're about third in line, and she jumps slightly when his hand is on her shoulder.
"Yo, they don't have my brand."
"Huh?"
"These bitches don't carry Wilmington's."
Alex realizes he's talking about cigarettes. "That's because they don't exist. Didn't you used to smoke like Parliaments or something in the earlier seasons?"
He points at her. "Don't refer to my life as a fucking T.V. show."
They're at the counter, the bald, portly attendant giving Jesse a surprised look she's seen a few people throw at him throughout the day. She isn't sure why, but no one's asked for an autograph, just stared and like shook their heads like they weren't positive it was him.
The guy rings up their drinks. "Man, I love Breaking Bad! My wife and I watched the finale last night. Best episode so far. Man, sometimes I really think you're on meth. You're doing a great job."
Jesse appears equally startled, irritated, and nervous. "Yeah, thanks man. Uh, I'll take a pack of Parliaments."
He retrieves them with a grin. "Too bad we don't have Wilmington's, am I right?"
Jesse nods, so distracted he even pays for Alex's soda.
He doesn't say anything until they're waiting at a crosswalk as he's lighting up. "Fucking weirdest day of my life."
Alex sips her drink, and steers him left. "Youse gotta have an open mind."
He laughs around his cigarette, and makes two thumbs ups. "Ay!"
They side-step a couple holding hands and start down the subway stairs.
