No More No More

Mick's Cousin

I couldn't sleep.  There was too much on my mind.  Ant–Joe changed so much since the last time I saw him.  I don't think he even said two words to me.  I don't feel much like talking to Janet about it.  She's probably with James, anyway.  Maybe if I turn on the TV quietly...?  Joey's on the couch, Asshole's in the chair.  I could always just move Joey's feet...

     "Annie?" Asshole whispers in the dark.  I jump.  It's nearly three in the morning.  "What're you doing?"  I tell him I can't sleep.  He says he can't either.  Joey is snoring quite loudly.  I try to go back to bed.  I turned on the dim light on my nightstand, leaning against the headboard, and opened a book.

      I don't even get to read half a paragraph when my door slides open and Asshole slips in.  He sits down on the very edge of the bed at my feet, which are tucked up.  For some reason, he apologizes.  "If only I would've just told you right away instead of being stupid with the fuckin' Chain Reaction record..."  He lays back across my bed, putting his hands over his face in exasperation.  "I'm sorry," he whines through them.

     I snap the book closed.  "There's nothing to be sorry for," I whisper back, "I'm still clueless as to what the hell happened in there."

     Apparently, Anthony is now going by Joe (be it that his middle name is Joseph), playing guitar for the Strangeurs, dating the smokin' babe Elyssa Jarret, and is going to Boston soon with the rest of the guys.  Asshole told me all of this through his hands, still lying on his back.  I again tell him that it's okay; not to apologize.  I can tell he feels horrible, and that only makes me feel worse.

    Obviously, neither one of us will get much sleep tonight, there's too much running through our heads.  I can't very well smoke a joint to clear it, the smoke alarms will go off (or my mom'll find out).

     I make Steven feel less bad and eventually get him to remove his hands from his face and sit up Indian style, facing me.  I mirror the way he's sitting.  "So there was no school in Vermont?" I ask, not looking at him.

     "No, there was," Asshole says.  "But we found him and he needed some money in a bad way, let me tell you."  Steven didn't know why An– sorry, Joe stopped calling me, or why he never visited.  He ended up dropping out, joining the band, meeting Elyssa, moving in to her apartment, then Tom and Steven finally convinced him to come home.

     The more and more we talked, the more tired we got.  Eventually, we were laying on our sides, parallel to the pillows, facing each other with our heads barely propped up on our elbows.  I don't know who's eyes drifted shut first, but I slept and that's really the only thing that matters.

-- 

Thank God my mom forgot to buy milk and waffles.  If she would've seen Asshole and me exit my room, she would've been livid, even if I would've tried to explain.  I also thank God that my dad decided to go buy another pair of dress shoes–stocking up for the next school year.  If my mom would've been livid, my father would've been... Incandescent.

     I'm surprised at our breakfast guests.  Two of the three cheer and whoop as they watch me traipse out of my room not five seconds after Ass– Steven.  I flip Tom and Joey off, taking my usual seat tiredly.  I got maybe three hours of sleep last night.  It's now nine in the morning (wow, the guys are up early).

     Around the corner from Tom and on my other side is my surprise guest.  A year ago, seeing him to my left was the norm.  Now, it made me lose my appetite.  Steven piles his plate with old, freezer-burned waffles and several pieces of what is now room-temperature pizza from last night, following the suit of Tom, Joey, and... Yes, Joe.  Steven pulls up a stool between Tom and Joey.