Misery Loves Company

By: theinkslingerr

Track 47: misery

How did you go to someone's house to tell them you lied to them, but blurted out you loved them instead?

Only me. I swear, only me.

When I'd told Rocco I liked him after burning my mouth on that s'more, I'd threatened him with a (teensy weensy) concussion, because I wasn't sure he felt the same or remembered telling me he had on the couch at his apartment.

Now, seconds after blurting out I loved him, I prayed for something to happen that would affect his short-term memory.

He was gawking at me, mouth open, Adam's apple bobbing spastically. He still had me pressed against the countertop, and up close I noticed his lips were a bit chapped. A patchy red flush worked its way up his strong neck.

"What?" Rocco's voice broke, causing the flush to deepen as he cleared his throat. "What did you just say?"

Why was he asking me when I had no clue?

I'd opened my mouth to prove I could be vulnerable without first-degree burns, and said something I never thought I'd say in a million years.

Something heavy and scary and confusing. Something I didn't even know I felt.

Panic snaked its way up my spine. I'd practically shouted it. Giuliana was more than likely sitting out there wondering what was going on.

"I'm sorry," I choked out, throat raw. "I don't know why I said that. I—"

"Did you mean it?" Rocco's gaze was so intense it felt like my face was melting off.

"You're right. I should go." I weaved around him, desperate to escape my own revelation.

"Wait." He grabbed my wrist, but I yanked it away, tripped, and knocked over the trash can. Pieces of lettuce, raw chicken, and candy wrappers spilled onto the hardwood floor. I paused, instincts urging me to clean it up. But the sight of Rocco standing there ignoring the mess stopped me from bending down.

He wanted me to wait? Fine. I was waiting, but he wasn't saying anything. I started picking at my cuticles, something I'd been doing less and less, but reverted to when I didn't know what to do with myself. I hadn't planned on saying "I love you," so I didn't necessarily expect to hear it back (especially since he'd just argued with Giuliana a few minutes ago). But no matter how sudden or how bad the timing was, a tiny part of me hoped for...something. A word or an action that would prove this wasn't my biggest mistake yet.

As the seconds ticked by, Rocco's face grew troubled. I started to shake. My confession was out, and I couldn't laugh it off or take it back like I would in any other situation. It hovered in the air between us, invisible but all too present.

Rocco had told me he liked me first. At a time I hadn't entertained thoughts of anything beyond a kiss.

But then we'd kissed again and kissed some more. Talked. Terrorized dollar store employees with a plastic Spider-man mask.

He'd started having feelings for me at some point, but I'd clearly fallen faster, harder. And now I didn't know where we stood.

He strode forward, causing my pounding heart to skip several beats. Instead of telling me how he felt about what I'd said, he knelt down and began picking up the trash.

The disappointment turned my stomach— even though it was mostly empty. I watched him lift the trash can and toss pieces of lettuce and candy wrappers into it. "Maybe..." he shook his head. "Maybe you should just go. I can't handle this right now. I'm sorry."

It shouldn't have come as a surprise or hurt as much as it did. Of course he'd need time to digest something like this. It was only reasonable. But his words were still a punch to the gut. His uncertainty winded me; made my legs feel weak like I'd run a grueling marathon. Even the added apology just caused me to feel more pathetic.

Shame and embarrassment swept over me in big waves that threatened to carry me away. After resisting a few seconds, I let them, and turned on my heel to leave the kitchen.

Rocco did not follow.

"Bye. It was nice seeing you again," I said to a startled Giuliana. She was still sitting at the dining room table, and there was no doubt she'd heard quite a bit of what was said. I snatched my coat off the back of my chair then made a beeline for the door. As it shut behind me, she called my name, but I didn't look back.

Downstairs, Rowan opened the door for me and smiled. "Was Mr. Alden adequately surprised?"

A hysterical laugh bubbled out. "Yeah, but so was I."

He looked bewildered.

Well, that made two of us.

When I was safely on a train back home, I pulled out my phone and texted Sage. Advice from an older woman would probably be helpful right about now and Ji-Hyun was too close to the situation.

Me: How long were you with your first boyfriend before you told him you loved him?

The ellipsis flashed on my screen as Sage drafted a quick response. It read:

Why do I get the feeling you aren't asking for a friend?

For the rest of the weekend, my phone stayed glued to my side.

When I called Sienna to tell her what I'd done, she screamed in my ear for five minutes straight about how her "ship" was unsinkable until she noticed my silence.

"He didn't...he didn't say it back, did he?" she asked slowly.

"His response was, 'What did you just say?'"

She groaned.

"And everyone knows that means 'Please tell me you didn't just say what I think you did...'"

Her and Sage (who thought I'd said "I love you" to Dom) spent Sunday talking me off the ledge whenever I got panicky about the situation. No matter what happened now, my relationship with Rocco would never be the same. Those three little words were a game-changer.

For some reason, a part of me held out hope for a text or call from him, but I waited and waited, and got nothing.

I got nothing, and it was probably what I deserved.

By Monday I was burnt out and questioning life. It didn't help that I kept picturing and analyzing Rocco's face after I'd dropped the Love bomb. He'd looked shocked. Disbelieving. Did he think I was crazy now? We'd only known each other for a few months.

But a lot had happened in those few months.

Millions of people learned my name, I'd been followed by the paparazzi, and my best friend had cut herself out of my life, leaving a gaping hole for Sienna, Ji-Hyun, Eli, and Sage to fill. Even Dom and Jae had their place. But I couldn't deny that a certain dark-haired, sweet and sour candy-loving guitarist took up most of it.

But was that love? What if I'd jumped the gun? Could I trust a feeling that had snuck up on me like boiling water in a pot you'd taken your eyes off of?

I thought about it all day as I sat through boring classes and kept a wary eye on Enid. She was back in school pretending like we hadn't had an altercation in the parking lot of our favorite coffee shop.

When the last bell of the day rang, I walked to Beechmill Elementary to get my mind off things and catch up on my volunteer hours. I was ridiculously behind, and would fail Economics at this rate.

Mrs. Faulk was happy to see me, but disappointed that I hadn't come with Josh.

"He's been coming alone too!" she wailed. "What happened to my dynamic duo?"

I made excuses about being busy with schoolwork and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to make up for lost time. To my utter shock and delight, Corey, the little monster who'd reminded me of a young Josh, only disrupted the program twice and refrained from mocking it. He glowered at me on his way out the door, but I was so impressed by his behavior, I just waved.

"The progress he's making is very exciting," Mrs. Faulk commented, shuffling papers around. "And it's all thanks to Josh."

I dropped a few chewed up pencils on the floor. "How?"

"He's been working very closely with Corey on empathy and impulse control. They seem to get along."

Birds of a feather, I thought dryly.

I bent down to pick up the pencils and grumbled out loud, "Wish he'd worked on that stuff when we were here."

As soon as the incriminating words left my mouth, I wanted to bang my head against the table. When I stood up to collect the rest of the stuff the kids had left behind, Mrs. Faulk was studying me intently.

"I knew Josh went here, but I had no idea you did too," she said carefully.

That was...unexpected. "How'd you know? Did he tell you?"

She placed the stack of papers in a folder before taking a sip of the Diet Coke she'd been nursing all afternoon. She seemed to be considering what to say next. "Josh's older brother Julian is something of a legend among the seasoned teachers."

That was putting it lightly. The only person more horrible than Josh had been his older brother. But while Josh was only mean to children, I'd heard Julian pushed the envelope and terrorized his teachers as well. It was both sad and hilarious that his name still struck fear in their hearts.

"Makes total sense. Julian was basically Chucky." But Josh had always been protective of him and deferred to him even though Julian didn't treat him kindly in return. In fact, the first time I'd caught a glimpse of his old temperament was when I'd implied Julian had to be in a gang or jail.

"Sounds like he could've benefited from a program like this." Mrs. Faulk stuffed the folder in a bag and started helping me gather more pencils and markers. "But that may not have been possible even if it existed back then. Apparently his father was quite charming and insisted Julian's behavior was something they could work on at home. Before they moved it was said there was a noticeable difference, but I think Julian's past behaviors were burned into his teachers' minds."

I wondered if he'd actually gotten better or if Mr. Henderson had just taught him to camouflage his cruelty.

"I heard Josh had his problems too, but seemed to be largely influenced by his brother," she continued. "However, that doesn't excuse his behavior, so I'm truly sorry if he hurt you and I'd completely understand if you continued to come separately from now on."

A few weeks ago, I would've cried with gratitude. Someone understood and they weren't telling me to just get over it. But now...I was almost indifferent. I was far enough from the situation to admit that Josh hadn't really bothered me since transferring to Beechmill High, and he'd kept his promise to stay away. He'd unselfishly respected my wishes despite his desire for my forgiveness.

I sighed. "No, it's...OK, I guess." I couldn't believe I was voicing this. "He hasn't bothered me since he moved back from Cali. In fact, he's been...nice? But I didn't trust it. I thought it was an act, so I may have overreacted and told him to stay away from me."

"And that's your right." Mrs. Faulk firmly reassured. "But it's possible that the changes you've seen are genuine. The Josh I know seems to be a thoughtful young man, and he's really helping Corey become more considerate."

I tossed the pencils and markers in a big plastic bag and grabbed my jacket. While it was nice to realize my anger at Josh had fizzled out in the past few weeks and he wasn't one of my many problems anymore, I didn't feel like hanging around and talking about it.

"That's good. Hopefully it sticks. Are we all set?"

Mrs. Faulk inspected the cafeteria then nodded. "Yes. Thank you for your help." She hesitated, a serious look on her round face. "I would never want to minimize the suffering a bully has caused, but Josh told me he currently lives with his aunt and uncle. I'm not sure why that is, but that could be a contributing factor to his current behavior. Maybe he feels like he can relax and be himself? In college, I minored in psychology and I've seen many cases, especially among young men and their brothers and fathers, where the male predisposed to empathy or kindness copies traits he sees in the others to fit in. It's their way of surviving, especially if there is no mother or non-toxic family member around. Or if the mother is passive, or worse— helps the father encourage toxic behavior and favoritism."

I listened to her talk, at war with myself. If this was what had been going on in the Henderson household then Josh's past behavior was no longer a mystery. I'd seen glimpses of humanity, and there were times he'd call truces when we were young. He'd end up breaking them later of course, but maybe what I thought were cruel and purposeful mind games was really just Josh going home to his family, being reset, and coming back to school more cruel than before.

Josh most likely wasn't the sociopath I thought he was, but maybe he'd been raised by one or someone who had tendencies. Maybe he'd adopted certain behaviors in order to survive his childhood. It would definitely explain why he realized some people wore masks at such a young age.

Did moving in with his aunt and uncle alleviate that stress and foster the change in his behavior? Make him self-aware?

I suddenly wanted to talk to him. Pick his brain and truly listen without judgement. But I was so stressed about everything else that was going on, I knew it would have to wait.

Shrugging on my jacket, I gave Mrs. Fault a tight-lipped smile. "Alright. Um...thanks for all the info. I'll see you soon."

"Thanks again for your help. You really are great with the kids. Maybe my dynamic duo will be back someday— only if you're comfortable with it."

The next day was the equivalent of hitting repeat on a song I didn't like.

I went to school, agonized over my confession to Rocco, and dodged Enid.

What did two people do when one revealed that they were way more invested than the other? Was I supposed to wait until I heard from Rocco? Or contact him first? I didn't want to harass him while he was trying to deal with what I said on top of preparing for Blue Vendetta's new single and whatever unresolved issues he had with his grandparents.

But it was Tuesday, so I guess none of that mattered in the end. I'd be seeing him at Enid's this afternoon, ready or not.

When I got home, I paced around my room and kept an eye on the time as I tried to hype myself up for Misery Loves Company. For once, I dreaded seeing Rocco. Not only would things be awkward, I'd be wondering what he was thinking the entire time.

What if he ignored me— or worse, pretended I hadn't told him I loved him?

Ugh. I needed reinforcements.

I shot Sienna and Ji-Hyun texts about coming to watch the taping of the show. They both said yes, and I collapsed on my bed, relieved. I should've probably run it by Enid or someone on the crew, but I didn't want to give them a chance to say no. I was freaking out and needed my friends around me.

My phone buzzed with another text and I picked it up, expecting it to be from Sienna or Ji-Hyun.

It was from my mom.

Mom: The straps of my crocs are hanging by a thread, and I don't have a back up pair in my locker. I'm going to need you to bring me the ones in my closet.

I groaned. I'd been successfully dodging her for days, but now she was going to use the ugliest shoes in the world as an excuse to finally talk.

Maybe I could just ignore this text like all the others. Pretend I didn't get it.

But I couldn't avoid her forever. I was going to have to discuss what she'd heard from Paula eventually. Plus I told Rocco I'd do it, so I wanted to keep my word. As bad as it sounded, he always seemed more worried about upsetting her than I was. Eli had once called him "Mom heroin," and the way Paula fussed over him lay truth to the claim. I guess he just wanted my mom to like him too.

Was his need to be liked by parents rooted in the fact that both of his had effectively abandoned him?

Sighing, I replied to my mom's text before going upstairs to grab her shoes. She was far from perfect, but compared to Rocco I had it better. A lot better. I decided to tell her what was going on in my life, and if I didn't like where it was going, I could use the fact that I had to film MLC to leave.

When I got to the hospital, my mom was at the ER check-in window waiting. She slid it open and I handed her a plastic bag with the crocs in it.

"Come around back, I want to talk to you," she said.

Of course she did. That was the whole reason for this errand. I held in a sigh, and went through the double doors in the waiting room. She met me in the sterile hallway and another nurse replaced her at the window. I looked down at her feet. The crocs looked a little worn, but fine overall. Especially the straps.

Here we go.

She led me down an endless white hallway, peeking into different rooms as we passed. When she found an empty one, she opened the door and let me in first. The room was small and had a narrow bed with fresh sheets on it. A few pieces of medical equipment lined both sides, as well as an uncomfortable looking chair. I sat in it and my mom took the bed, dropping the plastic bag by her feet.

"If you hadn't replied to my text or shown up, I was going to come out looking for you," she intoned.

Leaving work for me? That rarely happened.

"Aren't you over-reacting a bit?"

She lifted a well-sculpted brow and I shut my mouth.

"I was worried about the blond one— the one you're pretending to date— when I should've been worried about the one who had the nerve to sleep over."

Denials and deflections formed in my throat, but I managed to keep them in. Why lie at this point? If my mom finally wanted to know what was going on in my life, I'd tell her. "You don't have to be worried about anything. Dom's OK when you get used to him. And Rocco...Rocco makes me happy. I know I told you we weren't together, but...I want to be."

Her eyes narrowed. "So Paula was right."

"It's like you're not even listening, mom."

"I'm listening, I just don't like what I'm hearing. You like him and he likes you. That's nice, but what happens when Enid's show ends? He's a musician, and a smooth-talker from what I've seen. Do you really think he'll come up to see you every weekend?"

Not every weekend, but Rocco had told me he wanted to keep hanging out, so I believed him.

But that was before I'd scared him away with the L word.

My mom latched onto this uncertainty, and barreled on full speed ahead. "You've got to think about these things, OK? A lot of guys Rocco's age aren't in the position to make promises, because they're still trying to figure themselves out."

My dad had only been a year older than Rocco when he'd walked out of our lives, and this conversation was showing me that was at the forefront of her mind. She was trying to look out for me. Make sure I wasn't taken advantage of the way she'd been.

The thing was, Rocco was nothing like my dad. He was nothing like his either— not where it counted.

And even though we weren't talking right now, I realized I trusted him. At the end of the day, whether he loved me or not, he was a good person and he'd try his best not to hurt me.

"Wait a minute. Exactly what did Paula say about him?" I couldn't imagine it being anything bad. She adored him.

My mom hesitated, making it my turn to narrow my eyes in suspicion. "She told you he was a good guy, didn't she? I know she did, because she loves him. But you don't believe her."

"It's not that I don't believe her. I'm just going by what I've seen, and what's widely known about a musician's lifestyle," she retorted.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "So, you just wanna sit and bash Rocco the whole time? You're not even gonna ask about the other thing?"

"What other thing?"

"Enid blackmailing me!"

"I thought that was a misunderstanding? Paula called and said Enid showed her her phone, and there was nothing on it."

I laughed. Enid deserved an award for the lengths she was going to in order to ruin my life. "How could I misunderstand someone saying they'd upload an incriminating picture of me if I told anyone about their eating disorder? She straight up admitted to hiding the photo before showing Paula her phone!"

My mom froze. "You can do that?"

"Welcome to the twenty-first century," I said, spreading both arms.

For most of my life, she'd stayed cool under pressure. Her ability to remain detached was partly what made her a good nurse, but a less than stellar mom. I'd been seeing more emotion lately, but I didn't know how to take it. It was like watching a bird swim or a fish fly.

She looked deep in thought. "Why would your best friend suddenly want to blackmail you?"

"It didn't happen suddenly," I sputtered. "The way she's been treating me— all the stuff she's done— that's all led up to it! Between wanting to get away from her dad and her crazy crush on Dom, she's been different since the show started. Maybe even before then."

"It just doesn't make sense. She's been your friend for a long time, right?" my mom murmured to herself.

I stared at her, mouth slightly open. Something about the questions she was asking didn't sit right with me. "Do you think I'm making this up or something?"

"Don't be silly. I'm just trying to understand—"

"Trying to understand who? Enid or me? Because it sounds like you're trying to work through what I could've possibly done for her to treat me like this!"

She frowned. "I'm not saying you did anything, but no one just wakes up and blackmails the people they care about."

"Well, Enid doesn't care about me! Not anymore. And just because I messed up your life, doesn't mean that's what I go around doing to everyone else!" I shouted, standing up.

She stiffened and remained seated on the bed. For once she didn't look calm or indifferent. Her brown eyes were wide and her lips were pressed into a thin line. She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. I'd learned how to compartmentalize before I even knew what it meant. My lonely childhood, the constant bullying, her apathy. They all had their own boxes, and I'd tried to keep the lids on tight, but right now it felt like everything was spilling out.

"Enid was my first friend. When all the other kids were telling me you didn't love me and telling me to kill myself, I gave her a box of animal crackers and she stuck by me. When the bully you told me to just ignore tried to drown me in a puddle during recess, she stuck by me."

Her eyes grew wider and she inhaled a shaky breath. She didn't try to speak again, and I was glad, because I wasn't finished.

"But somewhere along the way, she changed. She got sick of me. I was too clingy and I held her back, but that was because I was afraid of losing her and Paula." My throat was getting tighter with every word, my eyes burned. "I let Enid get away with everything, including pressuring me to do Misery Loves Company, because she felt like my only family. And I hate that she did that, but...part of me is glad too. If she hadn't, then I wouldn't know the people I love now. And that includes Rocco, the guy you're so afraid will hurt me the way dad hurt you."

She didn't say anything for a long time, and we let the silence stretch out. Voices echoed in the hallway, rickety gurneys rolled by. After a while, she ran a hand over her face. She looked so tired. "Do you honestly think I don't love you?"

"What else am I supposed to think?" A lone tear slid down my cheek. "I feel like since you got stuck with me, you punished me with something I'd be stuck with for the rest of my life too."

~~~

Author's notes: Sorry for the long wait, but a few things came together in this chapter, so I hope it was worth it. Most of you know I'm participating in NaNoWriMo, so I'm extremely busy. This might be the only update in the month of November, but I'll try and squeeze another one in if I can.

What do you think of the way Rocco reacted to Misery telling him she loved him? Was it what you expected?

What do you think about Josh now that you have a little more insight into his childhood and family life?

What did you think of Miz's talk with her mom?

As always, if you liked this chapter please vote, comment, and share this book with your friends.