Falling For Alaska

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Library Meet-ups and Creative Liberty

I guess you could say I surprised even myself when I ended up texting Alaska.

Frankly, I planned on just putting that slip of paper through the shredder and maybe going on a real 'date' instead with some busty blonde. But then, quite unfortunately, the image of me performing in next year's play was enough to encourage me to text Alaska for help.

Of course I could have just learned the lines myself, but it would be easier to memorize the lines if I had a partner (and I was definitely not going to ask Sam for help). Or at least that was what I was telling myself to justify the whole thing.

We ended up meeting at the local library, because she, apparently, didn't think she could trust me not to murder her if we were alone in the same room. So, here I was, Chase Forrest, in a freaking library, dramatically rehearsing my lines for the dumbest play ever made. Really, it's a laughable scene, and hell, I implore you to laugh. Believe me, I said goodbye to my dignity a long time ago.

It didn't matter that there was literally no one of significance there at the library- I felt judged by every single nerd there. The condescending glares, the perplexed brows, and the obvious frowns of every single person there was more than enough for me to want to leave.

But no, apparently, we weren't leaving until I had the lines down pat. Which was harder than I expected, if I'm going to be honest.

I mean, Carter literally has the writing skills of a ten year old, and it's not like there's any complex plot devices, but somehow, every single time I ran through the lines with Alaska, I took some creative "liberty."

"No, you freaking twat," seethed Alaska, throwing up the play script in frustration, "Your line is 'Wow, I'm so glad I've found a friend in you,' not, as you apparently think it is, 'Gee, you're such a loser! Remind me why we're friends?'"

I shrugged mindlessly. "What can I say? I like my version better. I feel like it's much more realistic. No offense, Alaska, but your character is quite the weirdo."

Alaska just sighed in exasperation, and started her lines again.

"Of course, Frankie, we're friends! How could you ever think otherwise?" Alaska gasped dramatically, placing her hand over her heart.

Despite the temptation to respond with something very similar as before, I resisted the urge, and in as cheerful of a voice I could muster, I announced proudly, "Wow I'm so glad I've found a friend in you!"

How wonderful for Frankie Treesome, apparently.

Alaska smiled, before continuing on with her lines, "Me too, Frankie. You know, I've never really had a real friend either. Not like you, at least."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes at the cheesiness, I managed to pull off a questioning look, "What do you mean? You've had tons of friends, haven't you?"

After shooting me an impressed look, Alaska composed herself and stammered in a quaint voice, "W-Well, not really, Frankie. I never feel like I can, you know, be myself around them. It's different when I'm around you. Everyone sort of expects me to one particular sort of person and I'm never able to express how I really feel, no matter how violently or crudely it may be."