I Find Myself in You

Joe and I sat on the table in silence, looking up at the school for I don't know how long. There wasn't really anything to say. I knew he wouldn't push me to tell my life story, and he knew I wouldn't give it. I had long since learned that trust wasn't exactly mandatory, even amongst celebrities. I had learned that first hand with Miley. Sure Joe seemed cool. But I wouldn't be so naïve as to trust him because his words were insightful, or his face was so innocent. Innocent now, but in a few years, he'd lose that. He'd see, just as I had, that the high life wasn't exactly the glam life.

"So," he said finally. "Have you visited this school since you left?"

I laughed. "No way."

"Really," he asked, genuinely curious.

I sighed. "Joe, you obviously have great memories here. I don't. You said before that I always looked so out of place here. Well you were right. I was surrounded by a sea of people at all times. But did any of them really like me? Did it matter what I was like? Probably not. To the collective student body, I was just some pretty girl, with an amazing voice that was going places. This place was hell for me. I had moved past trying to make it week by week. I was fighting to make it past each day. Sitting in classrooms full of fake people, and boring teachers. There was no place for me here."

Joe turned to glare at me, his eyes hard. "Why are you so damned cynical all the time?"

"What," I asked, taken back by his harsh tone.

"You're freaking Lainey Peters," he said. "You have everything. You're living the dream. And yet you're trying to throw it all away because of your damn self-pity."

"Excuse me," I said, angry now. Self pity? Who the hell did this guy think he was? "You know absolutely nothing about me."

"Actually, I know quite a bit about you," he corrected.

"Magazines can be deceiving," I said coldly.

"I wasn't talking about magazine," he said quietly. He sighed. "Look Lainey. You love singing, and acting, and performing. You wouldn’t be where you are in your life if you didn't. You're smart. You're beautiful. You could do anything you wanted. But somehow, you've lost it Lainey. Whatever has happened to you – you've grown u too fast."

"Do you know what's happened to me Dr. Jonas," I asked, sarcasm leaking through every syllable. "Would you like to know? Would that help your diagnostic?"

"Only if you want to tell me," he promised. His voice was low and kind now. His face was softer and concerned.

"I left Wyckoff, more than ready to get on with my life. I wanted so badly to leave the world of the fake behind, to be among my true peers, to meet the aspirations I had always looked up to." I laughed bitterly once. "I went to L.A. So naïve, so eager. I was literally surrounded by more fake people, seas and seas of them. Only now, the lies were bigger and better, the false smiles had turned into false masquerades, and the fake people were still fake, only better at hiding it. That's what I saw Joe. Everyday, that's what I experienced."

"Not everyone is like that," he said quietly. "My brothers and I aren't."

I laughed bitterly. But it was sad too. "You will be. Trust me Joe. Not trying to be mean or 'cynical'. But this feeling – this 'cynicism' is just something that comes once you realize that everything you know and love is making you drown deeper in."

"I think you're wrong," he said firmly.

"Maybe I am," I shrugged. "All I know is that – my boyfriend cheated on me, my mother cares more about me as a client than a daughter, and sometimes I wish I actually had a normal life. I look at my old 'friends' and I wonder if they're luckier than I am. Not living here exactly, but just – not pretending to be someone they're not all the time, you know? Even if it is in the middle of Bumblefuck, New Jersey."

"Is that why you came back," he asked. "To New Jersey? To start that normal life?"

I laughed. "Look at me Joe. Look at the papers. Look at you and your brothers. Do you think any of us will ever have a normal life again?"

We were both quiet again then. "You were going out with Jesse, right," he asked suddenly, quietly. I could tell he was changing the subject. And for that I was grateful. I didn't really have anything else to say.

I nodded, not saying anything.

"He cheated on you," he asked.

I nodded again.

"Was he retarded," he asked.

I laughed despite myself. But it still hurt in my chest. Seeing him with her at my last show during my world tour right before my last song. Thinking about it as I performed. Tripping. Falling. And here was Joe, having just yelled at me, and basically called me some old cat lady, and was now trying to cheer me up? "I like you, you know that Jonas?"

He smiled at me. "I like you too Peters."

I sighed, hopping off the table. "Want to head back?"

He nodded, getting up too. "Race you," he challenged.

"You're so—"

I don't want another pretty face. I don't want just anyone to hold. I don't want my love to go to waste. I just wan you and your—.

I froze as my phone cut me off. I picked it up quickly, not wanting to hear the last words. "Hello," I said, my voice shaky. Joe looked at me questioningly.

"Hey Lainey baby," Jesse's voice rang in my ears.

"Hi Jesse," I said quietly. "Look I'm not read—"

"Guess where I am," he asked quickly.

"In L.A.," I asked, my tone hopeful.

"Nope, guess again," he said.

"Jesse, I really—"

"Look Lainey. I've really missed you. I just needed to see you. Hurry back from your run, okay? I'll see you soon," he said, before hanging up.

I stared at the disconnected phone. He was – here?

"Anything wrong," Joe's concerned voice pulled me out of my daze.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?