Punk Love

The first day of the shit show consisted of me pretending nothing happened while getting stink eyes from the entire world. The weeks that followed looked much worse.

That first day, I came to visit Alex. I was somber, sure, but not crushed. I recognized that I was going through something traumatic, but at the same time, it was hard to take something so ridiculous seriously. I couldn’t let myself be put down by lies.

Pauly said I should explain the situation, especially to girls who used to hang out with me and were now gulping Ryan’s version of the story thirstily. But I wasn’t going to start explaining myself. They didn’t deserve my peace of mind. I wasn’t going to apologize for something I hadn’t done.

When I told Alex what happened, he picked up the bass guitar Ryan had left in his basement and hurled it against the wall. It shattered noisily, falling in two pieces to the floor.

“I’m going to kill him.” He paced from side to side.

I didn’t actually doubt that. What Ryan did was beyond shitty. But the truth was, I didn’t even hate him for it. It wasn’t hard to look at him at school, when he quickly looked the other way, avoiding eye contact. Not because I wasn’t mad at him, but because I thought to myself, it must be so lonely, so, unbearable to hate yourself so much, that you had to put someone else through what he was trying to put me through.

“Nah, don’t talk to him.” I waved Alex off, playing with the buttons of my corseted black ballerina mini dress. “It’s what he wants. More attention. A reaction out of us. More proof that what he did hurt us. Anything we say will be picked apart, twisted, and misconstrued. The only way to win this is to live well.”

“What he did is bullshit!” Alex roared, picking up another random item in his basement and throwing it against the wall. “Total fucking bullshit. He is a pathetic liar! How are you not fuming?”

I could tell Alex was frustrated with how blasé I was about the whole thing, but I couldn’t go down the same slippery slope of rage. After all, I was the one who got all the nasty looks in the cafeteria. The invasive questions. The giggles behind my back. It was my duty to put my mental health above all else, and not to get dragged into an emotional spiral.

“I don’t care,” I said primly. “I don’t want you to talk to him. Promise me.”

Alex looked up, frowning at me. “No.”

“Alex,” I warned.

“This has nothing to do with you. I’m a part of this, too.” He stubbed a finger to his chest, baring his teeth. “It’s not just you he disrespected. It’s me, too. Implying I would lay a finger on you if you cheated on me? That’s fucking libel.”

I darted up from the couch. This was going to be our first fight, our first real fight, and I hated that it was happening because of something that was beyond our control.

“Alex!” I pushed his chest. “Stop being such a selfish bastard. I’m the one who is going through something, not you, and you should respect my way of handling it. Do.” I pushed him toward the wall, and he let me.

“Not.”

Push.

“Contact.”

Push.

“Him!”

His back bumped into the wall behind him.

That sobered him up. His face went from outrageously cross to blank in a nanosecond. I could practically see him mentally checking out of the situation. Alex was an only child. One that had become self-sufficient at a very young age. The word no wasn’t in his vocabulary. And besides, he was used to getting a lot of respect from everyone he met, Ryan included.

He looked away, sucking in a breath.

“Promise me,” I asked softly, pressing my palm to his cheek. I had to extend my arm all the way up to reach him. He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“Please,” I said, kissing the tip of his chin. The small dimple in it. “For me.”

He groaned. “We’ll revisit this subject in a few weeks, when you get your head out of your ass.”

“That might never happen,” I pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. “Can’t blame you. I’d live in that ass, too, if given the chance.”

Things did get worse at school.

Ryan was finally getting some positive attention, even if it was through spreading lies about me and joining a heavy metal band. I didn’t tell my parents what was going on and was lucky enough my baby brother was in middle school and therefore didn’t attend the same school yet.

By minimizing what was happening to me, I was not letting this thing have room in my life. In a lot of ways, I was glad I went through what I did. Because it taught me extremely valuable lessons about friendship, human nature, and how to deal with a crisis.