Why, oh, why do I only write the most random things? This doesn't make any sense. Oh, gosh, hope you like anyway?

leave out all the rest

And it's not that she's thinking about Justin that pisses her off, it's the way she's thinking about Justin, in some strange, longing type of fashion- like she almost misses him, when he's not around. / Alex and Justin. Non-linear timeline.


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There are a few things Alex knows for sure.

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(number one:

once upon a time, she has a dream about kissing justin. she's young, maybe twelve, thirteen, and the details are hazy.

she remembers his lips were soft, and he put one hand on her neck, as if to steady her, though from what, she's not sure.

she had woken up tangled in white bright sheets, her bangs sticking to her forehead.

and she had promptly pretended to forget all about it.)

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At Justin's graduation, the sky's a pretty, clear, blue- no clouds- and Alex wonders what exactly she's doing there.

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Number two:

At the age of fifteen, her and Justin get drunk together.

She's bored, she complains, and that escalates (somehow, and he's never been able to ignore her, has he) into them lying on the floor of his bedroom, passing a vodka bottle between themselves, her giggling uncontrollably and him smiling, wide and sun-shiny (she knows that's not a word, shut up) and it was- had been-

nice.

(Another thing Alex tries not to remember- he kissed her on the cheek after that, and his lips hadn't been as soft as in her dream, but then again, she hadn't really minded.)

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I can't believe you're going to Columbia, she laughs, one flip flop strap broken and hanging off her feet. He thinks her toenails are painted the same shade of green as the summer grass.

He acts like he's offended, throws a sweatshirt at her. What? I'm not smart enough?

Shut the fuck up; she groans, and he grins at her.

Aw, aren't you going to miss me? He shoots back. You'll be sad, just admit it.

There's a pause. It feels as though time as slowed down, or sped up-

No, she replies, slightly quieter than before, I'm not going to miss you at all.

(She does not slam the door, but he notices the way she clenches one fist to her side, knuckles going white.)

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Sometimes, it's not a game.

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There are times, when she catches herself thinking about Justin.

It makes her heart ache and her head spin; so much so she has to sit down, catch her breath.

And it's not that she's thinking about Justin that pisses her off, it's the way she's thinking about Justin, in some strange, longing type of way- like she sort of misses him, when he's not around.

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(Which is just not fucking true. Alright?)

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When they play chess, he always lets her win, even though she doesn't play by the rules and she makes up her own names for the pieces.

She's not totally sure if him doing this makes her like him more, or less.

(Almost definitely less, she decides, after spending a long time- i.e, a few minutes- pondering it. Almost definitely.)

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It's probably more painful this way, she thinks, when she waves good bye to him from the car.

But it's the only way she knows.

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There's no magic strong enough to fix her, whatever the fuck's wrong with Alex that makes her dream about kissing her brother and causes her heart to beat fast when he tangles their fingers.

(sometimes she wonders if she really wants magic at all)

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Her and Justin don't talk much.

He sends her emails from college, rambling about things she's never cared about.

She smiles, deletes them.

It's okay; he understands.

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He keeps a picture of her in his wallet.

When people ask him who she is, he says she's someone he used to know.

Not anymore, though.

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Don't forget me, she tells him.

He looks at her; presses his fingers to hers.

Promise, he smiles.

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(number three: Alex can't figure out why this feeling is as deep as it is, how it feels sometimes, like Justin's hands are wrapped around her heart, squeezing it too much too tight and sometimes she can't even breathe, and she is so aware of how much she-

She's not sure she'll ever be able to explain why she feels this way.)

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The house is smaller now than she's used to.

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fin.