No More No More

Take it Back (Cry Me a River)

When the weekend was over, after staying for three days in the hotel, we finally made the decision to go home.  I didn't even use my hotel room; Joe was so afraid to leave me alone for just a second.  It's not like I'm suicidal, but you never know what you're gonna get when you mix cocaine, whiskey and a girl who just lost the love of her life.

      Let's discuss love for a minute.  What exactly is love?  When you have this undying passion to be with this person and you just have to be around them all the time? I guess... That's kinda how it was for me with Steven.  Now I'm not so sure he felt the same way...

     No, Annie!  Goddammit why do you have to go and think that?  Don't cry.  Don't even think about crying!

     Too late.  I bit down hard on my lip but it didn't help.  I sniffled and was trying very hard to hold back my sobs.  The tears fell silently, and I tried to hide them, but, because we were right next to each other, Joe noticed.  He put his arms around me and held tight, trying to help.  Just like Steven did for me when I was upset over the Anthony/Joe thing.  At this thought, the tears come faster and are harder to hold in.  Joe cradles me until I fall asleep in a wet pool of my tears on the shoulder of his shirt.

-- 

Joe held me all night.  Literally.  I woke up nearly in the same position I fell asleep in.  Joe was awake.  I wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep at all... He looked pretty tired.

     After our breakfast of stale donuts, Joe said, "Whaddya wanna do today?"

     I shrug, not feeling up for much of anything.

     "Alright... Let's do something, though," he pressed.  I stare at the crackling chocolate frosting on the cardboard-tasting vanilla doughnut.  "I'm not sure how much longer I can afford this hotel room," he mutters all of a sudden.  I peek up at him through my eyelashes.  He stares at me, thinking.  "If you want, I could, uh, drive you to, uh, Hopedale...?"

     I shake my head, though I'm not sure why.  I don't want it to seem like I go crawling back to my parents at every little problem I have.  I'm sure they'd gladly take me, but... I'm twenty-two.  I'm an adult.  I can't have help from them on everything... I need to learn from my mistakes and correct them, not have someone else fix them for me.

     "Annie?"  Joe's voice leaked into my thoughts.  I wonder how long he's been saying my name.  I glance up at him.  "You don't want to go to Hopedale?"  I shake my head again.  "Then where're you gonna stay, sweets?"

     Sweets. Steven called me sweets. Why does everything relate back to him, goddammit?!

    I shrug, biting my lip when I feel my chin quiver.  "You're gonna poke a hole in your mouth," he says with an adorable smirk.  I can't help but smile back, but it doesn't reach my eyes or heart.

     "I want to go home," I finally mutter.  Joe looks at me with this strange expression of ridicule and being perplexed.

     "Like, thirteen twenty-five home?" he asks.  I nod.  "Why?"  I shrug again.  "Really?"  He still seems shocked.  I nod again.  "Well, if that's what you want..."

Joe seemed reluctant to pull the car off to the curb in front of the building.  We walked in side by side, me carrying the small bag of clothing Joe brought for me.  We climb the multiple flights of stairs, finally reaching the door.  I hesitate on the handle.  I slowly remove my hand, staring at the not-so-shiny brass.  "Ready?" Joe asks me uncertainly.  I nod, grasping his hand like a life preserver with my free hand.  Joe turns the handle.

     The familiar scent of welfare whiskey and food stamp crack hit us like a wall.  The TV was on, and the sounds of laughter echoed through the living room.