Take Me By The Hand

All Apologies

I spent the entire night in my room, glaring at my Nirvana poster like it was somehow Kurt's fault; Josh Ramsay started the rumor. It seemed impossible and the simple thought of it made my head spin and my stomach twist.

The first step was denial. No way in hell would Josh spread a lie like that. He was one of my best friends, I had known him for years. He was the kind of guy that confronted rumors, not started them. Especially when it came to his friends. That's one of the things I liked about him; He was straightforward, even if the brutal truth sucked to hear.

But that was also one of the reasons I thought that maybe Zacky wasn't lying. Josh was a very social person, one of the perks of his various band and musical activities. He would have had plenty of opportunities to say the wrong thing to the wrong person. Which leads me to the second step; Acceptance.

Maybe it was Josh that started the rumor after all. He was always talking to someone, so maybe he had slipped up and said something he shouldn't have. But even still, why would he tell someone that it was just a bet? He had to have known that I would find out, that I would be able to follow the gossip trail back to him. That's when the third step settled in; Pain.

I couldn't believe that Josh would intentionally start a rumor about me, especially one like this, one that he had to have known would hurt me so much. He knew that I would find out-- it was impossible to not find out-- and then what? He knew I would feel betrayed. He knew that I would be upset with Zacky. Which led me to the fourth and final step; Anger.

I was pissed. Josh was trying to ruin my relationship, the only good boyfriend I had ever had-- and yes, technically the first real boyfriend I ever had, but that's not important. What's important is that Josh knew what he said would have this effect on me, but did that stop him? No. It wasn't so much the rumor itself that was irritating me anymore, or even the point that Josh had started it, but the fact that I had been so mad at Zacky for it. When really I should be mad at Josh. One of my best friends...

Fuck. I guess I can't trust anyone anymore, can I? Zacky, my mind whispered to me. You can trust Zacky.

I fell asleep to the serene thought, feeling the truth as it presented itself to me. Fuck Josh. Zacky was all I needed...

The anger was completely faded by the time I woke up the next morning. I wasn't thinking about Josh or Gerard or any of the fucking rumors. I was thinking about Zacky and the very vivid, very erotic dream that still filled my thoughts from the night before. I make my way to the bathroom down the hall, washing away the sweat and dirty thoughts that seem to cling to me, and scurry back to my bedroom. Throwing on a pair of jeans, I scan the room for a clean shirt. I find one tossed into the corner of the room and pick it up, sniffing it hesitantly. When it doesn't smell like death or any type of weird fungus, I shrug and pull it on over my head. I grab my Misfits jacket from where it's strung over the back of the desk chair, zipping it up to my neck to hide the few dwindling hickeys that Zacky left the last time I saw him. I scolded him for it, telling him he needed to suck lower (that sounds dirty...) but he kept telling me that he liked to kiss my neck. He claimed that it made him happy to leave the carnal marks where everyone could see, like he was making sure that everyone knew that he had done that to me. It was like marking his territory. But in a romantic way.

I go through most of the day in my happy-go-lucky mood. Until lunch. I'm poking my salad silently, waiting for Zacky to arrive, coming in late from some make-up test, and save me from the awkward silence that consumes our table. It's just me and Mikey and Matt and I don't bother asking where Andrew or Josh are. I don't really care.

A tray slides onto the table beside me and I glance up, hoping to see my boyfriend but, before my eyes even focus on a face, they register a streak of blue hair and I look back down, the animosity crashing on me like a wave. I clench my hand into a fist and prop my elbow onto the hard table, focusing even more on my food. With Josh in such close proximity, my head starts pounding with things I could say and do to him right now. I could punch him in the face. I could stab him with my puny plastic spork. But I just shift my body so I'm angled away. He doesn't seem to notice.