Punk Love Read online

  And Ryan, who was perhaps into me, but not into me enough to risk getting his body parts dismembered and scattered along the ocean, turned to face me, his throat bobbing with a swallow, and said quietly, “Hey, knock it off, will you? Alex doesn’t really have much of a sense of humor.”

  No shit, Sherlock.

  Needless to say, the rest of the drive (in the safe, totally uncool Volvo) was awkward as hell.

  Alex and Ryan weaved in and out of safe small talk topics about their mutual friends, from the punk scene and Ryan’s old school, and I made myself as invisible as I possibly could, bobbing my head to the music in the background, all while internally coming up with a game plan to make Alex fall in love with me.

  The plan, unfortunately, had a few holes in it. Namely:

  Still inflated by adolescence and lack of life experience, my ego was approximately the size of the state of Iowa. It was beneath me to show a guy I was interested in that I was into him. I never got to the bottom of what made me so damn frightened of rejection, but my general policy when liking a guy was to ignore him as much as humanly possible, in the hopes this would somehow make him fall madly in love with me.

  I’d very few opportunities to see Alex again. In fact, this was the first, and as far as I was aware, last time I was going to see the guy. And let’s admit it, there were more romantic settings for meet cutes than yelling in cops’ faces that meat is murder and milk is rape and eggs are child trafficking while standing knee-deep in cow shit on a ranch, while holding a sign with a picture of a goose with three chins.

  When we got to the entrance of the farm/ranch (never could tell the difference between the two) in which the demonstration took place, I froze.

  There were a few things I didn’t take into consideration. Like, oh, I don’t know, the fact that as with most demonstrations, there were people there. Lots and lots of people. And that I was/am an introvert with a huge case of social anxiety.

  I didn’t do too well with people. I was an introvert by nature, choice, and DNA. The place was not only teeming with a ton of protesters and even more cops, but a lot of these people looked like they were Alex and Ryan’s crowd.

  Even before Alex parked his Volvo in the small parking lot right next to the duck and geese farm, he rolled down his window and bumped fists with other punk rockers who slowed their step to greet him.

  I am not going to lie—I was impressed.

  I mean, I had been impressed with Ryan for being a person with an entire personality of his own. With views and morals that hadn’t been spoon-fed to him by the educational system, but Alex was a whole different ball game. He had Ryan’s intellectual shine, plus he looked like a blonder version of Ben Robson. And he was nonchalant as shit about it.

  Like, he fought for the cause, but wasn’t hysterical about it.

  Or maybe I was just justifying to myself what I was planning to do, if Alex showed a shred of interest in me. Which was, largely speaking, breaking hooking up with my best friend’s frenemie. Because, as I said—there was no love lost between Ryan and Alex.

  “We’re here.” Ryan unclipped his seatbelt from the passenger seat gleefully. The adrenaline was already pumping in my veins just from seeing the crowded farm, the metal bars by the cages where they kept the geese, and the police officers around. Other than that, the most exciting and dangerous place I’d ever been to was our neighbor, Mrs. Lipshitz’s basement (there was nothing particularly dangerous about her basement, but she collected porcelain dolls and my auntie, who is also an author, used to tell me stories about how these dolls were actually real, little girls’ taxidermy).

  “No shit,” Alex said drily, flinging his door open. “Your friend might be a bit slow—she is friends with you, after all—but she is not fucking blind.”

  “Thanks, Ryan,” I said, ignoring Alex completely. I still hadn’t figured out how to deal with the giant Viking, but I suspected I was going to taunt him to the bitter end. It was a knee-jerk reaction, after all. “Let me just call my parents real quick, tell them that I arrived safely.”

  Technically, I’d told my parents I was helping farmers pick organic vegetables today and distribute them to people in need, but at least I gave them the right location. More importantly, I didn’t give them something else—a heart attack. Which was exactly what they’d have if they knew what I was really up to.

  “Rock on.” Alex let out a snort, just when I slid out of the backseat of his car, his back already to me as he advanced toward a crowd of people who waved at him.

  “You drive a fucking Volvo, dude,” I muttered under my breath.

  He stopped.

  Turned around to look at me.

  Oh, fuck. Getting killed by my crush was such a lame way to go.

  “What did you say?” he asked seriously and darkly, and…okay, fine, sexily, too.

  “I said,” I spat out the words, yanking out my fridge-sized phone, “before you taunt me for my lack of coolness, just remember you drive a. Fucking. Volvo.”

  Welp. I went there. More like galloped there on the back of a pissed off horse. I had no one but myself to blame if I was going to get murdered. Silver lining: surely, he’d touch me if he killed me.

  Alex shook his head and turned his back to me. It was only then that I realized Ryan was standing by my side. I hadn’t even noticed him, and if that wasn’t sucky of me, then hell, I didn’t know what was.

  “C’mon.” Ryan tugged me by my cropped shirt. “Let me introduce you to the gang.”

  “The gang” was a bunch of gangly, long-limbed teenagers with pronounced Adam’s apples, all on the acne spectrum, in Black Flag, Subhumans, Minor Threat, and Anti-Flag shirts. I don’t know how to explain it, but they all gave me intense rich kid vibes. There were a few girls, too, and I am ashamed to say the first thing I did was eyeball each of them, trying to assess my competition.

  I did not believe for one second Alex didn’t get any action with the opposite sex. He was too brilliantly different in the landscape not to stand out. Now it was just a question of who he was doing, not if.

  The girls looked vastly different from me. That’s the first thing I noticed. With multi-colored hair, extremely short skirts, and several piercings and tattoos. I looked depressingly tame in comparison, and basically screamed GOOD GIRL and FAKER, all in capital letters. I did have a nose ring and wore ripped leggings, but that was the extent of it. Tattoos were a step too far for me. I couldn’t commit to a lifetime with the same ink at fifteen. Hell, I couldn’t even commit to the same shampoo. I was constantly overwhelmed by the options whenever my mom dragged me with her to the supermarket. Did I want my hair to smell like coconut or lemon? Who the hell knew?

  The only girl who was my style was Tom’s girlfriend, Jadie, who was gorgeous, with purple eyes, strawberry blonde hair, and a winning smile. She wore torn jeans and an oversized shirt, and still stood out with her raw beauty.

  Tom—the vocalist for Ryan and Alex’s band—was also the kind of person you couldn’t miss. He was one of those guys who didn’t look good per se, but was still attractive. The sex appeal was in the way he carried himself. Kind of like Adam Driver. Super tall. Super thick voice. If you saw him in a lineup, you would never guess you’d want to ride his face, but give him five minutes to charm you, and, well, his ears would be ringing from your thighs through the next weekend.

  They made an oddly sweet couple, Tom and Jadie, and I immediately liked both of them.

  We were just waiting for the demonstration to start (side note: if everyone is there, and the signs are there, and the police is there, and the guy with the megaphone is there, and the geese are there, hadn’t the demonstration technically already started?).

  Jadie asked me where I was from, questioned me about Ryan to see if there was something between us, and I slammed that idea down pretty quickly and efficiently, grateful that Ryan scurried with Tom and Alex to the other side of the lot, along with some other guys, where they smoked cigarettes and dutifully looked like they were carrying the burden of all the sinners in the world on their pimply shoulders.

  “So, you’re single then.” Jadie concluded. There were other girls around us, but I got the feeling they were going to talk to one another exclusively and not let me take part. I got it. I was a newbie. The alpha-female was the one who would welcome me. Sniff under my tail to see if I was fit. And that person was the quintessential Jadie.

  Jadie, who was beautiful, accomplished, dated the hottest guy in the punk rock scene they were a part of, and—this I found out during our brief conversation—also came from money. A lot of money.

  Her dad was the CEO of a company who imported frozen goods and distributed them to supermarkets.

  Including meat and poultry.

  Yup. Shit doesn’t get any better than this, folks.

  Before I knew it, the demonstration started.

  Gang, I don’t even know what to tell you about what happened during the demonstration. I don’t remember much of it. I do remember that at some point, things got a little heated and there was shoving involved. I was well and far away from said shoving, but the fact that police officers and demonstrators were going at it made my tummy ache.

  Or maybe it was all the salad I shoveled into my mouth.

  Gosh, vegetarianism sucked. Veganism was going to suck even harder.

  “Okay, time to bail.” Ryan popped out of nowhere, grabbed me by the hand, then ushered me to Alex’s Volvo by the elbow. I started running like my ass was on fire. Because even though I was all in when it came to stopping animal cruelty (still am), I was so not into getting punched in the face. Especially being anemic and all and eating mainly lettuce and bread all day. There was a real chance I was going to faint and never wake up.

  Okay, there wasn’t, but I
still didn’t want to get punched in the face.

  Things were getting out of control. One protestor slapped a police officer, and the officer pounced on him. There were shouting and screaming everywhere. People pushing others around to see what was going on. Someone stumbled on top of me, and Ryan shielded me with his body so I wouldn’t fall.

  “Where’s Alex?” Ryan asked.

  “I have no idea,” I mumbled, looking for him frantically. And I do mean frantically. Because suddenly, all I wanted was to go home to my bed, MTV2, our fridge that was full of yummy things, my square parents, and even my annoying brother.

  Then I spotted him. Alex.

  He was perched against a chain-link fence, talking to one of the punk girls who’d ignored me earlier in the evening. She had a Chelsea hairstyle—super thick purple bangs with a bit of hair on the sides and a shaved head—and she wore fishnets and an oversized shirt as a dress. They shared a cigarette. She giggled at everything he said, leaning against him with her entire body.

  I wanted to throw up.

  I’d been jealous before, of course. Plenty of times. But not like this. Never like this.

  My chest burned with anger.

  My palms became sweaty.

  I honestly would have keyed the hell out of Alex’s stupid Volvo if it wasn’t for the fact I needed a ride back (also, if my parents had to pay for my little revenge stunt, I would have been grounded into the next millennium).

  “Alex!” Ryan spotted him at the same time I did and waved to him. “We’re right here. Let’s go.”

  Alex raised his cigarette in the air. “After I’m done.”

  By then, a ton of people were filing back to their cars and scooters, getting the hell out there before the police started arresting people. And he was sitting around smoking a cigarette with some…some…gorgeous girl who wasn’t me?

  Fuck that.

  This was the day I discovered that I have the ability to surprise myself. If this day taught me anything, it was that I could never quite predict my own behavior at certain times. Because what I did next shocked Ryan, and maybe Alex, too, but it absolutely floored me.

  I marched over to Alex—stomped, more like—and didn’t stop until I was right next to him and the girl.

  “Alex,” I said, my voice cold and yet shrill at the same time. “We gotta go. Finish your cigarette in your car.”

  Alex gave me a slow once-over. “Says who?”

  “You might be slow, but surely you are not fucking blind.” I’d used his exact words against him, feeling part proud, part anxious. “I’m saying this. Me. Ryan’s so-called little friend. Now get your ass in the car.”

  To my surprise, Alex didn’t do any of the things I expected him to do—like saying something mean, fight back, taunt me, or stomp on my head.

  He flung the cigarette through one of the holes in the fence, even though it was only halfway done.

  “Well?” he asked me, scowling. “What the hell are you waiting for, Layla? Go back to the car.”

  “It’s Lara,” I ground out.

  “Do I look like I’m preparing you a fucking birthday card? Don’t care!”

  Gang, Alex did not, in fact, look like he cared. Or like he was about to make me any kind of card. He didn’t say goodbye to the girl beside him, either. That’s how fundamentally he lacked manners. He just up and left, turning his back on her like she wasn’t even there.

  The drive home was full of the three of us exchanging anecdotes and opinions about what happened at the demonstration. Surprisingly, there was no trace of anger in any of us. I was breathless, exhilarated, and now that I wasn’t in immediate danger of getting punched in the face and/or arrested—also elated.

  Ryan asked what I thought about everyone. I was respectfully indifferent about the guys, polite about the girls, but I did say I thought Jadie was a lady boss bitch.

  “She is also incredibly gorgeous,” I added, which was factually true. I have since lived two more decades on this planet since that day, and only rarely come across women as beautiful as Jadie. Some girls were just born with that oomph factor. Jadie had an oomph.

  “Yeah, she’s stunning,” Ryan agreed.

  “Meh.” Alex spat out the window, eternally unimpressed by everything the world had to offer. “She’s got the curves of a billiard stick.”

  “A billiard stick doesn’t have any curves,” Ryan said.

  Alex knocked on Ryan’s temple. “Congratulations, dum-dum.”

  “Impossible standards, Alex,” I teased. Internally, I mourned the premature death of our non-romance. If Jadie wasn’t good enough for Alex, I was basically toast.

  “Got the hots for her?” Alex drawled.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I hissed. “I just think you’re full of shit. She is beautiful. Admitting it is not a weakness.”

  “She’s average,” Alex gruffed. “Don’t get so butthurt on her behalf.”

  “Don’t worry about my butt,” I retorted.

  There was a beat of silence before Alex said, “I actually have no comeback for that.”

  And then, after a minute of silence, he added, “Where’s home, Lara?”

  He called me by my name.

  I would have broken out into dance if we weren’t in the car.

  “Just drop me off with Ryan. I’ll take the bus.”

  Actually, I was going to call Daddy Dearest to pick me up, but that was even less rock n’ roll than driving a Volvo SUV.

  “Just give me your address,” Alex snapped, seemingly grossed out by having to talk to me. “It’s not like I’m going to stalk your ass.”

  Ryan was oddly quiet. Maybe he was processing what was happening. Alex actually having a conversation with another human. One that wasn’t an argument.

  “I don’t want you to do me any favors.”

  I was difficult, I knew, but only because I didn’t want him to know how much I liked him. Which made no sense at all. Yet here we were.

  “You are literally in my fucking car. The no favors ship has sailed. Give me your address or I’ll drop both your asses on the side of the road.”

  “And they say chivalry is dead.” I sighed dreamingly.

  “You are such a pain in the ass.”

  “You’re winning me over, Alex,” I said warningly, folding my arms over my chest. “A few more lines like this and I’m officially yours.”

  “What’s her address?” He turned to Ryan, ignoring me.

  Ryan shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know. Why…why do you care? Just drop her off at my place.”

  “I’m not letting her take the bus at night. She’s stupid enough to wind up dead somehow.”

  “She’s not going to take the bus, Alex. Her parents will pick her up. If not, I’ll drive her.”

  Suddenly, I had an epiphany.

  Alex was trying to…

  Wait for it…

  BE NICE TO ME.

  He just didn’t know how to do it.

  This was his attempt at chivalry.

  It was backwards, and weird, and a total fail—but it was important for him to drop me off at home.

  My chest filled with so many butterflies I became slightly nauseous. If this was my reaction to him trying to be nice to him, I was pretty much bound to puke in his lap if he ever tried to kiss me.

  “Fine,” I groaned, before giving him my address. “But when you get to my house, keep going.”

  “Um, why?” Ryan asked, confused.

  “Because I have a German shepherd that barks through the gate every time a car stops by my house until his throat stops working, so my parents are going to know someone is at the front door.”

  “Are you not allowed to, like, hang out with guys?” Ryan asked, and I pinked in the backseat.

  I noticed Alex was silent. Did he care? Did he want to know the answer?

  “No,” I rushed to say, even though my dad would have had a heart attack if he found out I was hanging with two guys older than me alone. “It’s just that…he barks really loudly so we wouldn’t be able to even, like, say goodbye.”

  This was not a lie. That German shepherd’s name was Tuco, after one of the characters in the western, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, with Clint Eastwood. He was an awesome dog, but man, was he loud. Hysterical, too.

  Alex stopped a few houses away from mine. I unbuckled, feeling the total loss of him. The mix of pleasure, happiness, and disappointment swirling in my gut.