What To Expect When It's Unexpected

Miscommunication

The night air was warm, wrapping Lauren in a blanket of comfort. All around was dark, buildings fading into shadow and oblivion, but the club was pulsing with life, neon lights flashing, a blemish on the face of the quiet, peaceful street.

For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel the weight of an elephant on her shoulders making it hard to breathe. As she sat on the curb, it hit her that she was feeling relieved. Relieved not only that someone else knew, but that they hadn't shunned or judged her. Brian was there to listen, and it helped.

Lauren closed her eyes, sighing into the faint hum of crickets and purr of the quiet night, reveling in her momentarily solitary existence. And as suddenly as she felt the comfort, it was gone, an uneasiness settled in its place. The hair stood up on the back of her neck, the nauseating smell of beer wafting through the air and all around her. She whipped around, frightened, only to see Joey walking, or rather staggering, towards her.

"Joey--" Her breath caught in her throat, barely getting his name out. He looked awful. Hair a mess like he'd been running his hands through it, sleeve soaked with a mysterious liquid that stunk like beer, shirt untucked, buttons askew. It seemed like he'd gotten in a bar fight or something, but that wasn't like him. None of this was like him.

"Dere ya are, Lo. Wonerd 'f you ran off ready," he slurred, gripping at the building as he stumbled. It was like his tongue wasn't working, words slipping from his mouth and flopping in the air.

"What? No, I was just getting some air..." Lauren's voice trailed off as she watched him slowly and unsteadily walk towards her, bracing himself on the wall with both hands. "Joey, what are you doing out here?"

"'S lookin' for ya," he slurred. "Bu' seems 'm not wanted out here." His words were hard, stones chucked at her head, venomous and sharp. And suddenly the weight was there again, making her feel heavy, body sinking further into the ground with each passing moment.

She rose to face him.

"Joey, you're drunk."

He ignored her comment, tears starting to run down his face. "Lo, why're you doin' this? Why're you hiding this frum me?"

Her head began to spin, nausea building. He knew she was hiding something from him. How much did he know? 

How much did he hate her?

"What...What do you mean? What do you think I'm hiding?" she edged, fear lacing her voice.

He laughed, wiping messily at the rivers flowing down his cheeks. "Found da' stash inna drawer. I know what you're savin' un for. An' I hate it. I hate it, Lolo."

It was like he'd punched her in the stomach, breath escaping her, head spinning, the need to collapse onto the sidewalk and never move again overwhelming her.

"Joey, Jojo, please. I'm so sorry. Just...please let me explain. I didn't want you to find out this way. I didn't want to hurt you."

Joey scoffed, shaking his head like she'd said the funniest thing in the world. "You didn't wanna hur' me? Why'd ya even care? 'S over, innit? We're over? 'Cause 've you." He turned, moving back towards the club. Turning his back on her. On them.

"Over? Joey, please! Look at me! I don't want this to be over! I never meant for this to happen! I tried to stop it! That's why I was saving up money! To get rid of it! Please, Joey, don't leave me!"

He turned over his shoulder, brows furrowed, pain buried deep in his expression.

"Then you shouldn't've left me first," he whispered, voice cracking.

Before Lauren could respond, the door slammed shut, the noise ringing in her ears. And just like that, in a matter of two minutes her whole life was shattered. But, in retrospect, it had been a long time coming.

And it was all her fault.