As Told By Paramours

chapter twelve

josie

I HAVE NEVER TOLD ANYONE 'SCREW YOU' IN MY LIFE AND I DON'T WANT TO AGAIN because it felt so gross.

I didn't even mean it, it was something I said because I was angry, and I realized as soon as I said it that words you say when you're angry make you feel really nasty.

I don't feel bad, really, and it makes me feel even more bad. There could've been better ways to handle it. There definitely were.

I blink out of my thoughts and sit on the edge of my bed, because Khushi has been knocking on my room door for the last seven minutes since I got back from work and it makes me want to bash my head into glass.

"Josie." I know she's doing that thing where she rests her head against my door and closes her eyes. I don't want to see it. "I'm sorry."

I think I say: "I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Okay," she says. "Then when?"

"I'll check my schedule," I say, and want it to sound light, but my voice cracks. This is her fourth time coming in the last two days. I want her to leave me alone. At least, for now.

"You want me to leave without an explanation?" she says. "Let me talk to you."

"The former."

"Josie."

"I can't believe you..." I say. "I can't believe... Oh God." I hiccup. It's wave one.

"Please." This time her voice cracks. "It's not like that."

"You know what's getting me?" I start, and she's quiet. "I told you that in confidence, and yet when she said all of that to me? For a second, I thought wow. Maybe I am selfish. Maybe I have no right to be mad. Maybe I shouldn't have even said things I did, or felt sick, or been offended. Maybe this really isn't a big deal and I'm just making it seem like it is, and I'm warping my reality to just be angry at something. And over the last few days I realize that all it took was someone you brought to me for me to feel that way. Because you must feel the same way she does and you guys were talking about me and God that's an awful feeling. You're my best friend." I sigh shakily, tears falling. "And I know I'm miserable. I'm not a dunce, I'm aware. I can barely look my own father in the eye without feeling like he embodies everything I hate and wanting to run," I say. "But you know what? I am trying to try. I want to try. I don't like feeling this way."

"I know," Khushi says.

"Do you?" I ask her. "Because for you to sit there and say nothing while she--"

"She looked through our messages on my phone."

"... What?"

"She saw me do my passcode and looked through them, I promise I didn't even know she was like that. I only explained what happened after and I know I shouldn't have, and I'm so sorry."

"So, you did tell her?"

"Well, after the fact."

I don't realize I was hoping for her to say it was all a big misunderstanding until my stomach drops again, and I realize I'm pacing. "Who else?"

"What?"

"Who else have you told?"

"What?" she exclaims, potent hurt in her voice at the fact that I'd even suggest it. "Josie, I would never."

"Yes, well, you already did," I snap at her.

"No one else," she whispers. "Josie I'm so sorry. I never should've let her meet you, I don't know what I was thinking to be honest? I thought she was a nicer person who understood."

"Thank you," I think I say. I roll over her words in my head repeatedly, and I try let myself see the better side of things. Yeah, she betrayed my trust and hurt me. But she did what she thought she was best, and she's sorry it blew up in my face. I think about what I really need: to hold a grudge, or my best friend?

I need my best friend. "I can't forgive you right away..." my voice sounds defeated. "If you're okay with that, then."

"That's okay," she says.

I'm silent.

"Can I come in, now?"

I open the door and peek at her. Her hair which is regularly in big curls is bunched at the top of her head in lumps, and she's in a Rugrats t-shirt and black joggers.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"I know." I open the door. "I need to talk to you about something else, too."

She nudges me, good-naturedly as we sit on my bed: "What? Gave Fiddler another chance?"

"Funny you say that."

Her joking and apprehensive grin slides off slowly when she sees my expression. "Yeah?"

I take a deep breath. "Derek came onto me um. Several times. He tried to put his hands on me."

Her face falls completely. "Oh my God."

"Yeah." I don't know why I'm reaching for water until I realize I'm crying. "I told him to stop, and he didn't. I didn't want to make a big deal about it and act like a snitch or something, but Fiddler saw and didn't do anything, sort of acted like it was normal. So. When he asked me out it made me uncomfortable and it was so weird. Um, so, yeah."

She's silent, and her eyes are wide and on me.

"Say something," I murmur. My heart is beating so fast I almost try to hold it in place.

"Thank you for telling me," she says slowly, and I think she's mad, until she looks up, and her eyes are rheumy. "I'm so sorry. For everything."

"Me too."

"So right now, do you need space, a distraction, or a hug?" she asks me.

"Hug, please."

She wraps her arms around me and we're both crying, her into my shoulder and me into hers.

It's a long moment, then she pulls back and rolls teary eyes. "Imagine having a child in your womb for nine months and thinking Fiddler is a good name."

I cry and laugh. "Ridiculous."

"Right?"

● ● ●

Ugh. Sorry for the whole ghost-for-a-week thing. I had a nice talk with my friend today. I was feeling a little icky.

Josie :~)

That's ok.

Why icky?

Elijah.

Well, this guy came onto me and his friend asked me out a week later. His friend who did nothing about it when I asked him to stop several times. I don't know, it's not like I want to make him out to be a bad guy or like I'm shaken up or anything but it's kinda sick to ask me out in front of EVERYONE when your friend harassed me the week prior and you bopped your head to the music like it was no big deal.

Ugh. I'm over it, I think, since I finally told my friend. At least after these notes, I will be.

I just sort of feel bad. I've been ignoring them both (both of them keep looking at me like I'm meat in a really unsettling way) and I wonder is it too harsh? Maybe I should go easy on them. And a small part of me wonders, did I dream it all up? Though nightmare would be a more appropriate term for how I feel.

Sorry for rambling.

Josie :~)

It's ok to be shaken up. That's natural.

I'm glad you feel better.


P.S. You don't owe ANYONE your kindness, nor the time of day. Do kick him in the balls for me next time you see him.

Elijah.