CD'S & Mixtapes || {Alex Gaskarth a.u}

Chapter Six

"No! It's just that I don't think Spike's a good guy for her. I mean, he always has his head buried in his stupid comics-"

"I'll have you know that those stupid comics that he reads are Webster's favourite." said Brianna, tapping the side of her nose.

Alex scowled.

"Like I'd care." he mumbled, but he managed to steal one of Spike's comics before he left the shop and headed for Webster's.

Just in case.

************************************

Alex

The way Alex saw it, there were two types of nerves in the world.

A) Good Nerves.

B) Bad Nerves.

For example, the last time he had stood outside of Webster's house, he had experienced good nerves. It was like the feeling of driving a sports car down an empty street, knowing you were breaking the speed limit, but you were so high on your good nerves, it made you giddy. He kind of felt this way when Webster would laugh at his bad jokes.

But now he was experiencing the bad nerves, the ones you feel when you know you did something wrong and you were about to be busted big time for it. He was pretty sure Webster's mom was not going to be impressed.

He rang the doorbell and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as he waited for someone to answer. Her mom answered the door (to his disappointment) and she smiled at him as she had two days ago, except this time, her eyes held a different look. The last time he had seen them, they had been bright and full of high hopes.

Today they looked at Alex with nothing but sheer disappointment.

"Mister Gaskarth." she said, her voice emotionless.

"Hi Missus Walker." he said awkwardly, trying to sound polite.

"Is Webster in?" he added quickly.

Her mom sighed.

"Yeah son, she's in. Whether she'll be up to talking to you well....." she trailed off as she looked down the hall at a door with 'Webster's Room' printed on it.

"Come in anyway." she waved him in and he stepped slowly into the hall, his palms starting to sweat.

"Wait here, alright?" Mrs.Walker said, and he nodded. She disappeared into Webster's room without another word, and Alex couldn't help but smile at the sound of 'Welcome To Paradise' blaring from her room. It was track number ten on his latest playlist he had given to her.

He leaned against the coffee table and studied the pictures on the wall. He smiled as he saw young Webster in various different situations, but in the pictures, she had no wheelchair. It was a little odd, he had to admit, to see her standing, and he started to wonder how the hell she'd landed herself in a wheelchair in the first place.

He slowly walked over to one of the pictures and examined it more closely.

There were four people in it, he recognised Webster and her mom, but there was a man in the picture with the same eyes as Webster, gold fleck and all. It had to be her dad, but Alex didn't recall seeing a man in this house before.

The fourth person in the picture was another little girl, she looked a bit older than Webster and she had blonde hair, but her nose had the same little bridge that Webster's nose had. He leaned a little closer and let his fingers touch the cool glass of the frame.

He had definitely never heard Webster talk about a sister before, or a dad, as a matter of fact.

"It's rude to snoop you know."

He whipped around and found Mrs.Walker giving him one of those mom smiles, the ones that moms usually give you when you're eating cookies out of the cookie jar without permission.

"I-I'm sorry I was just-"

"I know, you were curious, who wouldn't be? Webster is a very interesting character sometimes."

She walked over and stood beside him, he eyes staring wistfully at the picture.

"It was a car crash, typical I know, but there were other cars on the road that day, and all the time I wonder why it had to be us." she paused, and Alex nodded, indicating that he was listening.

"The road....it was icy...there was a truck...." she trailed off, inhaling sharply like the memory still haunted her.

Alex felt a sudden rush of sympathy towards the woman. He understood now. The accident had taken her husband, one of her daughters and had left the other daughter paralysed from the waist down.

She looked at him, and a subtle understanding passed between them both.

"She doesn't want to see you at the moment, but I think you were kind of guessing that."

He nodded mutely.

"But she did want me to give you this." she said with a small smile and Alex perled his head up like a dog after being told it's 'walk time.'

In her hand was a CD.

He swallowed and took it, his eyes reading the title.

'SONGS 4 ALEX WHEN I'M NOT TALKING TO HIM'.

Despite it all, he laughed, glad that she hadn't lost her humour because of him.

"She'll come around eventually."

He looked up at Mrs.Walker, surprised.

"Just give her time."

And with that, she laughed softly.

"You know, I've never heard her talk about someone the way she talks about you."

Webster

The minute she heard the front door slam, she let out a sigh of relief. She wasn't ready to face Alex yet. Every time she thought about him, she either felt:

A) Embarrassed

B) Awkward

C) She should punch the (very attractive) loser in the balls.

She sighed as he mam knocked softly on the door before she entered.

"He's gone." she said as she walked in and sat down on her bed.

Webster nodded and went back to readng Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

"He said thank you for the new playlist."

She didn't reply.

"He really wanted to see you."

Webster huffed, put down her book and grabbed her laptop.

"MAM. WE WENT THROUGH THIS. I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO HIM OR ABOUT HIM RIGHT NOW." she typed moodily.

"Webster sweetie, I think it's time you put the past behind you and keep moving forward." her mam said softly.

"HOW CAN I MOVE FORWARD WHEN THE PAST IS HAUNTING ME?"

"Well, look at me. A widow with a paralysed daughter, working two jobs and still trying to escape the past. But I keep moving forward."

Webster looked up at her mam and gave her a sad smile.

"I KNOW. I'M SORRY FOR BEING SNAPPY."

Her mam shrugged.

"It's okay, you're just hurt. I know how it feels when someone who you think you can trust lets you down."

Webster fidgeted with her sleeve. The more she thought about it, the more she felt like she wanted to talk to him. Maybe her mam was right.

Keep moving forward.

"You know, it's never too late to send him a text saying that you'll meet him in the record shop in ten minutes." her mam said slowly, holding Webster's phone in her hand, a smirk on her face.

That woman sure had high hopes sometimes.