Not Just a Phase
I will try everything to make you come closer to me
Baby, do you believe it's not just a phase?
How can I get it through? What have I got to lose?
I'll try 365 days, 365 ways to get to you
365, Leon Thomas III & Victoria Justice
One day at the beginning of sophomore year, he finds himself stopping at a gas station. He has absolutely no idea why, but there's something that seems to be calling him there. André Harris does not believe in fate, but he does believe in accidents, and this proves to be an accident like no other.
A girl sits on the bench outside of the gas station, looking slightly scared despite her intimidating demeanor. She raises an eyebrow at him. "You come here often?"
"Are you all alone?" he asks the girl, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Why?" the girl replies coyly. "Planning on kidnapping me? Because, as far as I hear, that's slightly illegal."
"Only slightly," he tells her, running a hand through his hair. "No. But are you alone?"
"Yes," she retorts. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it; it happens all the time."
He hesitates for a second. "Get in the car."
"Excuse me?" She doesn't jump at the chance, and he didn't expect her to.
"You heard me. Get in the car," André flips his keys around. "Pretty girls like you shouldn't be hanging around places like this."
"I think I can handle myself, thank you," she replies coolly. "I've been doing it for years now."
"And you shouldn't have to," he smirks at her. "Get in the car, girl."
Finally, she relinquishes her pride and opens the passenger door. She hesitates for a second. "My mom always told me not to get in the car with strangers."
"But I'm no stranger. I go to your school," he extends a hand. "André Harris, sophomore."
She hesitates before taking it. "Jade West, sophomore."
"There," he grins. "We're not strangers anymore. Now get in the car, Jade West."
Jade hesitates before doing what she's told. Lounging back, she puts her feet up on his dash. "I don't know where you think you're taking me."
"Anywhere," André shrugs. "Do you have an address?"
"Not one I'm comfortable telling you," Jade growls, giving him a dark glare.
"Well, I guess we're going to my house, then," André shrugs, giving her a cheery smile. He starts the ignition, not listening to her protests. He drives off, trying not to think about the fact that he has a random girl in his car and he's taking her to his house.
Once he gets there, he tries desperately to hide her from his grandma's view, but his grandma has eyes like a hawk. "Who's that, André? Is that your girlfriend? Does she have germs?"
"No, Grandma," he explains patiently. "She's from my school; we're going to work on a little project."
Jade glares at his grandma, but follows André up the stairs nonetheless. They talk for a bit, then doze off to sleep.
When he awakens in the morning, she is gone.
On Monday, he finds himself subconsciously searching for Jade West, the girl that is shrouded in mystery. But when his eyes fall upon her, he sees her hand twined with someone else's—Beck Oliver's.
He can't explain the sudden rush of disappointment that sears through him.
He offers them a smile nonetheless and gives Jade a small wave. Instead of smiling, she just shoots him a dirty glare, and he bites his lip.
Running to the bathroom, he splashes water on his face and tells his reflection, "Get yourself together, man." He can't be tearing himself apart for a girl, even if she is a girl like Jade.
He's late to class, but he's starting to find that he cares less and less.
One day, he decides that he might as well skip class, because he doesn't feel like going, and, well, what's the point? He finds himself in the music supply closet with a guitar in his lap and music on his mind. Absently, he strums a few chords, before raising his voice along with the music. "Never met a girl like you before, want to give you more…"
Then the door creaks open, and he finds Jade West standing on the other side. Quickly, he shoots up. "Girl, you scared me. Why are you not in class?"
"I could say the same for you," Jade retorts, examining her fingernails. "Didn't peg you as the rebel type."
"Yeah, I tend to surprise people," he smiles jokingly. "I didn't feel like going, so I didn't go."
"Solid reasoning, Harris," Jade rolls her eyes. "Sure it'll go over well when you're in trouble for not going to class on a regular school day."
"I'm writing music," André sighs. "That's what I thought my new class was about, but we never do anything remotely interesting, so…"
"Let me hear it," she demands, and no one ever refuses Jade West anything, so he begins to sing.
Once his song is finally over, he gives her a slightly nervous smile. She applauds simply, smiling evilly. "Not bad, Harris. Not bad at all."
He finds himself smiling slightly and wondering why those two words- not bad- somehow mean more to him than most of the empty compliments that he gets from normal people.
One of the worst things a boy can do, André decides, is become best friends with the boyfriend of the girl that you have a (tiny?) crush on. But of course, André makes all the wrong decisions and ends up becoming friends with Beck Oliver.
Beck Oliver is chill, much like him and André takes a liking to him because Beck doesn't do anything dramatic. In fact, most of the time, he doesn't do anything. The kid's a good actor, André decides, and he has a nice voice. Somehow, though, every time he sees Beck with Jade, his anger flares up once again. He decides that it might be jealousy, which he hates more than anything else—André Harris could never compete with Beck Oliver.
Especially not when it comes to Jade West.
Maybe Beck and André are best friends, but André feels like a traitor—the worst of traitors, actually.
He refuses to believe he has a crush on Jade (except, maybe he sort of does—have a crush on her, that is).
One night, she called him on the phone. "André," she slurred. "André Harris."
"Jade?" he replied, alarmed.
"Entertain me," she demands, voice sounding different than usual.
"How do you want me to do that, girl?" he responds. "Wait, are you drunk?"
"No," she laughs, hiccupping. "But, well, Beck took me to this party, and they had some funny-tasting punch. It tasted good, though so I drank an awful lot of it and now my head feels kind of funny. But the party is really boring—"
"You are drunk," André protests. "Jade, that punch was spiked. Where are you?"
"I'm at the party," Jade laughs. "But it got boring!"
"Is Beck still there?" he inquires, heart thumping far out of his control.
"No," Jade replies innocently. "He left, and told me to hitch a ride with one of his friends—"
"Jade, are they drunk too?" André asks cautiously.
"No!" Jade laughs again. "I don't know why you think that they would be, but no one's drunk—"
"You never laugh," André deduces cautiously. "Something's seriously up. Jade, stay right where you are, I'm coming to get you."
Her tone turns icy. "I don't need… you to help me… André!"
"Where are you?" he demands, sounding about as amused as he feels.
"I'm at…" she spills the address, her words still slurred. "But André… don't come get me, I'm having fun!"
Not amused still, he drives there as fast as he can, tearing up the road with his fury. Once he gets there, he drags her out by one arm, not feeling happy with her at all. "Jade West, what the actual heck were you thinking?"
"I'm not drunk," Jade laughs again, falling onto his shoulder. "I swear, I didn't drink anything with… alcohol!"
"You did, even if you don't realize it," he responds, opening the door for her. He offers her a tiny smile. "Get in the car, Jade."
She stumbles in, looking unhappy about this but sort of relieved at the same time. Leaning back against her seat, she manages to get out, "You didn't have to come and get me…. I could've fended for… for myself. Things have changed, André… I'm a big girl now. I don't need your help."
"You do need my help, girl," he sends her a smile. "Besides, girl, you'll thank me for this in the morning."
After a few moments of silence, he pulls up to her house. With chagrin, he realizes that her house is not far away from the party. But Jade gets out of the car, then sticks her head back in and offers him a half-smile. "Or I could thank you now." She presses her lips lightly against his cheek, and all he can think is that she's drunk but no, he doesn't refuse it.
"No problem," André grins sheepishly at her. "Stay away from the alcohol."
"Stay away from my house," she retorts cheekily, and he speeds away.
His thoughts are spinning a million miles an hour.
One night, he dreams of her.
She's gorgeous, even in his dream. Her eyes are shining as she stares at him, her arms crossed across her chest. Quietly, she asks him, "What are you staring at?"
"You," he whispers before biting his lip. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud…"
Suddenly, everything's shifting. He's being turned upside down, and her beautiful face is being distorted. He reaches out, but all he can feel is the air in front of him. Surprised, he reaches out, and then he's falling. Looking out, he sees her falling too, and he screams.
Once he hits the ground, he stands up next to her, rubbing his head and feeling slightly disoriented. She snorts. "Hey, Harris, stop staring. It's rude, haven't you heard?"
Then she's kissing him (in the dream), and all he can see and feel is her for just a few beautiful moments.
Right after, though, she pulls away and gives him a hard, very Jade-like slap. Since it's a dream, he obviously doesn't feel anything, but his vision blurs and when it refocuses, he's in his room again.
Gasping, he shoots up and clutches his head. His thoughts are spinning far too fast for his liking.
All he can see throughout the tangled mess of images is her—her perfect face, her streaked hair—and he's screwed, isn't he?
When he first becomes friends with Tori Vega, he thinks that it might be because of how very un-Jade-like she is. Tori's obviously the opposite of Jade in every way, shape, and form, and he thinks that maybe that's exactly what he needs as a distraction.
Besides, the obvious hatred that Jade exudes toward Tori is refreshing in some strange sort of way.
Somehow, though, Tori does not fill the hole in his heart that Jade has left. Jade's taken one of her pairs of scissors and stabbed it into his heart, turned it a few times for good measure, then pulled it out and run away with it.
That kind of wound is hard to heal.
He knows deep inside that, despite everything that Jade's done to him and the broken heart that he sports like a war veteran, he would still do anything to make her love him and not Beck.
And that hurts worse than anything else.
It's at a party (which, for the record, he attends with Tori) that she starts to really notice.
Smirking, she walks over to him, taking a drink of whatever the heck is in her hand. "Hey, Harris, you're looking extra fixed up today. Some special occasion, or?"
"No, Jade, I just wanted to look nice today," he fixes his coat. "Did I do well?"
"Yeah, not too bad," she chuckles, tugging loosely at his tie.
"You either," his eyes travel down her body. "Nice dress."
She smirks, running a hand through her hair absently. With a bit of an evil smile, she says, "You know you want some of this."
"Jade!" he exclaims, feeling his face get hot and thanking whoever that he doesn't often blush. He warms first, because it's completely inappropriate, and second, because it's completely true, but he's a gentleman so he'd never use her like that.
"What? Everyone does," she remarks innocently, glancing around the club and giving a little shake. "Well, I'm going to go get some more drinks—"
"Jade," he cuts her off, giving her a stern glance.
"Chill, grandpa, they're non-alcoholic," she drawls, giving his shoulder a little shove. "Liven up a bit, would you? Come dance with me."
He frowns, feeling his heart dance inside of his chest, and follows her over to the bar, where she orders a non-alcoholic drink and turns back to him. The lights on the ceiling sparkle in her eyes, making her look happy for once. As she grabs her drink that they offer, she says, "What are you waiting for? Take me to dance."
He grabs her hands and pulls her out to the dance floor, where the two of them start into some weird dance. The proximity of her is overwhelming, and he inhales her unique scent that's wafting through the air.
And once again, for a bit, all he can see and feel is her, the impossible girl.
But then she disappears into the crowd, leaving him to feel her presence in the now stagnant air.
She's always been rather good at disappearing.
Late one night, he hears the door creak open. Silently, he peers up, wondering who would come into his room at such a late hour. He calls into the darkness, "Hey, are you… are you a murderer?"
"If I was a murderer, do you think that I would tell you?" He can hear the sarcasm in the person's voice.
Though he already suspects who it is, he calls into the darkness, "Who are you?" anyway.
"It's me," the person says, sighing a little bit. "Jade." She steps out.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, though not totally opposed to the idea of her being there. It just seems like the thing to ask.
"Well," she hesitates, "Beck broke up with me, and I… you're going to kick me out, aren't you?"
"No," he sighs, sitting up. Then he startles, realizing that he doesn't wear a shirt to sleep in, and bites his lip. "I'm not going to kick you out…"
"Nice muscles, Harris," Jade teases. "For a wimp, you're pretty developed."
"Hilarious, girl," he laughs a little bit, despite how not funny it is. "But do you want to talk about it, or…?"
"No," she responds after a moment of thought. "No, I really don't. Can we just not talk?"
"What do you mean—" he starts to say, but then her lips are against his, rough but firm. After a second, he kisses her back, feeling his hands entwine almost forcefully in her hair. It becomes a good kissing session, and he can literally feel the electricity searing through his veins.
But then he decides that he can't—he literally just can't, and then he pulls away, biting his lip again. "I- I can't. I'm sorry, Jade."
"It's okay," she mutters, standing up and frowning. "I understand."
As she leaves, disappearing once again, he gets the feeling that she really doesn't.
The next day, he kisses Tori, because Tori is safe and he wants to compare her to the electric-spark producing Jade.
The kiss isn't nearly as good, but he feels obligated to ask her out from there, and it just spirals on from there.
Jade and Beck get back together, and all he can do is fake a smile and pretend that just like everything else, his feelings for Jade have faded away.
He tells himself to forget about the kiss, to forget about her, but all he can do is continue to think about her.
It's a harsh reality.
Seven years later, he meets up with her in a bar. The smile stretched across her face indicates that she's faking happiness, just like she fakes everything else—she's always been a rather good actress.
Indicating the drink in her hand, he asks, "I'm guessing that's alcoholic?"
She rolls her eyes. "Good to have you back, Grandpa. Yes, it's alcoholic. Liven up a little, buy a drink or two, get drunk with me. We're young and free. Isn't the goal to have fun?"
"Yeah, I guess," he sips at his drink. "What have you been up to?"
"Nothing of interest," she sighs, taking another drink, "other than getting drunk on the weekends and making out with Beck, but that's a usual activity. And you?"
"I… nothing really," he clamps his mouth shut, trying to repress the feelings that rebirth at just the sight of her.
She leans closer, smirking from ear to ear. "I really am curious, Harris. Why shut me out?"
Sighing, he gives up and leans closer, connecting his lips with hers. It's a flurry of kisses and it's oh-so-wrong yet oh-so-right. He's always been the first to give in to her, really.
Once he finally pulls away, aware of the fading sparks between them, he picks up his drink with a smirk. "To us."
"Yes, to us," she echoes, clinking her glass with his. The engagement ring on her ring finger clinks with the engagement ring on his, but together, he thinks that they make a weird sound, not one that he is used to. Probably because they are from matching sets—Jade's ring goes with Beck's, and André's ring goes with Tori's.
But when these rings collide, the sound isn't half bad either.
Her head falls absently onto his shoulder, and he wraps an arm around her tightly, pulling her to his body. For a moment in time, they are just Jade and André.
They sleep in his bed that night—no implications, just platonic sleeping.
When he awakes, she's gone, disappeared once again. He has a feeling that she's still good at that.
A/N: Written in honour of Jade Gets Crushed and the Jandre THAT'S TODAY. Please, read and review and don't favorite without reviewing or I will PM you
I hope you liked it, despite all the angst. xD