sober//joshler

TEARS

It took Jenna approximately twelve minutes to find Tyler the next day. He was crouched by his locker, blearily looking for his history textbook when the sound of feet pounding quickly against the ground caught his attention.

He stood up as she approached. She didn't look mad, which was nice. Tyler wasn't sure if he could deal with anymore anger at this point.

"Hi," he murmured, kicking his locker shut. Josh's crew was nowhere to be seen and, for once, Tyler was relieved. Josh was another thing he couldn't deal with.

"Are you okay?" she demanded, pulling him into a tight hug. The concern in her voice ans eyes was clear as day. True, he didn't blow Jenna off when he could avoid it, but it wasn't like this had never happened before.

"Your cheek," she said by means of explanation at the confused look on his face. Sighing, Tyler brought his hand to his cheek, wincing as his fingers grazed over the bruise. Did it look that bad?

"What happened?" she asked gently as they started walking to history. Tyler didn't meet her eyes at first, unsure of the stability of his voice. After a few seconds of hesitation, he responded.

"Mom was pissed off I left."

"You left?"

Tyler shook his head at the panic that flashed across hee face. "Just for a walk. I may have shouted at her about Jay a little bit too, but that's nothing new, really."

Jenna didn't look any less miserable as they stopped outside the door. Tyler nudged her shoulder gently, smiling slightly.

"It's nothing new," he said softly, picking at the corner of his book. "It's fine."

"It shouldn't be," Jenna said, voice flooded with helplessness. "You have enough shit going on, what with Jay being dead and Josh and-"

And suddenly Tyler burst into tears.

He just couldn't help it. He was tires and angry and sad and a million other things, all compressed into the tiny little box in his chest. It needed out, he needed out.

Jenna reached out but Tyler shook her odd, wordlessly shaking his head, tears running down his eyes. A few students looked over at him, some with concern, some with amusement.

He needed out.

All the staring, the talking, the people surrounding him were suffocating him. Pressing down on him until he couldn't breathe.

He needed out.

He was unconsciously aware of him shaking free of Jenna and staggering down the hallway as fast as he could, mindlessly dodging people left and right. His head was exploding, his hands were shaking, and all he could think was out, out, out.

He hit the bathroom door with full force, stumbling inside, eyes burning with tears. He practically collapsed into the nearest stall ans fell down from there, forehead hitting his knees as he sobbed aloud, convulsions ripping through him.

Alone.

Completely fucking alone.

There was nothing he could do. He couldn't fix this. It wasn't going to get better. If anything, it would probably just get worse.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop loving Josh.

And it was killing him. He knew it was. That was the particularly sucky thing about this generally sucky situation.

After five minutes of sobbing his lungs out in a fetal position, Tyler finally found it in himself to uncurl himself ans sit up. His chest ached ans his bead was throbbing. He just wanted to go home and sleep for a year.