A Friend Like Me

As I walk away
I look over my shoulder
To see what I'm leaving behind
Pictures of puzzles
And wishes on eyelashes fail
Through the Dark - KT Tunstall

“I’ll miss you guys,” I said as I hugged everyone – the Jonases, my family, Vanessa – before heading off to the security checkpoint.

“I can’t believe you’re going to Prague,” Vanessa said as I hugged her. “And I can’t believe you and Joe aren’t even talking anymore.”

“Same here,” I murmured, moving on to Nick.

“Sorry he didn’t come,” Nick said, wrapping his arms around me.

“He’s coming,” I said. “I know he is. He’s just late, as usual.”

But the thing was, I didn’t know if I wanted him to come or not. On one hand, I wanted him to at least show up. On the other, I still didn’t want to see him – but I did at the same time. It didn’t make sense.

There’s nothing I hate more than confusion and failure. And Joe’s making me feel both – confusion about my feelings, what’s happening, how we ended up like this and failure for the way we could be so happy right now if we hadn’t kept so much from each other recently.

I pulled away. “I’ll see you guys in four months.”

“We’ll see you here, okay?” Mom said.

I nodded and picked up my small baggage (my other carry-on), rolling it along with me to the security checkpoint. I was reaching for my tickets in my carry-on when I heard my name being called out desperately.

“Ava! Ava! Av, wait!”

I turned around just as Joe Jonas flung himself at me, pulling me into his familiar embrace. He held me tightly in his arms, as if his grip were any looser, I'd slip away. Frankly, I was surprised I was still able to breathe.

“Don’t go,” Joe pleaded softly. “Work everything out with me. Don’t get on that plane. I’m sorry for everything. But not everything’s my fault…you should have told me.”

I pulled away from him, making sure to avoid looking at him. “Leave me alone. I have a flight to catch.” I pulled my luggage along, intent on reaching the security checkpoint.

Joe, however, having other intentions, grabbed my wrist. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. Just talk things through with me.”

“Let go of me!”

“Why don’t you want to talk? You’re the one who didn’t tell me you were going to Prague!”

“And you, meanwhile, didn’t keep your promise – and you still keep that purity ring on, mind you, you hypocrite – and you went ahead and kissed Demi then kissed me! Joe, stop leading me around! You know what’s so awesome about this? The fact that I waited so long for you to finally return my feelings, and then when you do, you just go ahead and make us go in circles.”

“I’m not leading you around – Ava, my feelings are real.”

“Right,” I scoffed. “Which is exactly why it was so easy for you to just leave me out there in the cold.”

“It wasn’t easy for me! Why are you doing this? I know this isn’t easy for you, either.”

“I—”

“Why do you keep running away?”

“I’m not running away! Why are you so frustrating?”

“I’m – Ava, I don’t want this to be the type of goodbye I give you when you go.”

I wrenched my wrist out of his grip. “Too bad. And I was right. We’re too different to work out. We never should have tried to be together.” I looked into his eyes, fully intent on hurting him again. And because I knew him so well, I knew exactly what would hurt him. “I’m – I’m better off with someone – with someone like James.”

In the second hurt flashed across his face, I regretted what I said. I got what I wanted – revenge – once again. And again, it still healed no wounds.

As I slowly walked toward the gate, I could feel Joe’s eyes locked on my retreating back. Showing my ticket, dumping my carry-ons and shoes on the conveyor belt, I felt the urge to look back. I felt the urge to look in his warm brown eyes one more time before I left for months. I wanted to take in his familiar features – his dark, tousled hair; the little freckles scattered all over his body; his defined jaw line and muscles – one last time, as if to have enough fill of him that it would last me the whole time I was in Prague.

So, after stepping through the gate and gathering my belongings, I gave in to the urge and looked back at him. I knew it was a mistake, immediately. After all, people aren’t supposed to look back for nothing, right?

I still looked back. Our eyes immediately connected. I saw him, tears running down his face.

The thing is, the last time I saw him crying like this in public was when Camilla broke up with him and he broke down during a concert.

I bit my lip, resisting the impulse to go and comfort him. I don't know how long we just stood there, staring at each other, Joe silently begging me to come back to him. It seemed like everything else was a blur, that it was just Joe and I. Before realizing what I was doing, I took a step toward him. I took another tentative step.

But all of the wounds we both inflicted on each other were still fresh.

I ripped my gaze away from him and turned away from him. I compelled myself to walk away and not come running to Joe like we were in some cheesy Nicholas Sparks movie. Because my life is not a Nicholas Sparks movie. I refuse it to be. I hate cheesy, romantic movies.

Joe loves Nicholas Sparks movies, though. He even cried during The Notebook.

And dammit! I'm supposed to be walking away from him right now! Not thinking about him!

I placed one foot forward. Another one.

And soon (or not so soon), I was breezing through the concourse and toward my gate.

But I guess Joe was right; this was hard. This wasn't easy for me.

{∞∞∞}

I sighed as I sat in my seat, wishing more than anything else that everything between Joe and I worked. That I had told him about Prague and he had nothing to hide from him.

I closed my eyes as I reached into my carry-on, brushing my hand against Xhaiden's soft fur.

“I told you,” Joe told me, “you shouldn't overwork yourself too much.”

“Shut up,” I groaned, holding my palm to my head in a vain attempt to soothe my headache. Instead of some soothing power, though, I ended up in another violent coughing fit.

Joe immediately rushed to my side. “You okay?”

I nodded, still coughing. “I'm fine,” I rasped and pushed myself off the bed to prove it. I wobbled, however, and just stumbled into Joe, who caught me.

“Whoa! Av, you're burning.” He helped me back onto the bed, saying, “Here, I'll get a thermometer from…you. Don't you have one in your first aid kit or something?”

I nodded, pointing to the desk where the kit sat. My hand flew over my mouth as I quickly said, “Hold on.”

I stumbled over to the bathroom. I kneeled and leaned over the toilet, retching. I felt fingers comb my hair out of the way, holding my hair back. A hand rubbed my back.

“This is disgusting,” I moaned when I stopped. “I hate being sick and you don't have to do this.”

Joe continued to rub my back, then helped me up to my feet. “Well, you're sick, Av. And this is what friends are for.”

“What, holding people's hair back and rubbing their back as they vomit?” I said, rinsing my mouth out at the sink.

Joe chuckled. “If I wasn't here, your hair would be like, in the toilet right now. And it would've been in your face and stuff.”

He let me lean on him as he walked me back to the bed. After giving me water, he stuck the digital thermometer in my mouth, checking it when it was done. “One-oh-two,” he announced, looking at me worriedly. “Here, stay here. I'm going to go get you some Sprite for that stomach and I'll make you some chicken soup, 'kay?”

I squinted up at him. “What? Are you going to try to cook in that kitchenette?” I gestured to the not-so-small kitchenette (complete with a stove).

“Yeah,” Joe answered. “Now sleep.”

“Not until you sing for me,” I joked.

“Sing for you? Okay. Hmm…let's see…”

“Joe, I was kidding; you don't have to –”

“What day is it? And in what month?” Joe sang. “This clock never seemed so alive.”

He held my hand and by “There's something about you now I can't quite figure out. Everything she does is beautiful, everything she does is right,” I was falling asleep, even though I wanted to hear him sing the whole song.

When I woke up, Joe was leaning against the headboard, his chest my pillow. His arm was around me. I was propped up against him as he played with my hair, stroking it.

“You're awake,” he said.

I coughed, sniffling. “Yeah.”

Gah. This moment would be so perfect if it weren't for the burning in my throat, my stuffed nose, the headache, and the occasional vomiting. In other words, this moment would be so perfect and romantic if John Taylor hadn't decided to pass the swine flu onto me.

Still, being in Joe's arms felt…right.

“And your soup's ready,” said Joe, still playing with my hair.

“You really don't have to do this,” I said. “I mean – like right now, you're going to catch my germs or something.”

Joe pulled me closer. “I don't care.”

{∞∞∞}

As soon as we landed, I switched on my cellphone and called Mom.

She picked up after the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Hi Mom,” I said, yawning. “I just landed.”

“You did?” she said. “That's great! Joe here was worried about you, especially because he knows how much you don't like flying.”

“Yeah.”

“I hate it when you two fight. I'm giving the phone to him. Work out whatever you two are in.”

“What? Mom, don't –”

“I'm giving Joe the phone,” she stated.

You know what I hate? When my mom does things like these.

Oh well. At least it means she cares, right?

“Hey,” Joe said from the other line. “I miss you so much already.”

Instead of swallowing my pride and saying, “I miss you, too,” I said, “Don't talk to me. Give the phone back to my mom or – or to someone else, at least.”

“Ava….”

“What?”

“I don't want to fight anymore. I can't fight anymore. Stop attacking me.”

His sentences were slowly building down the walls I built up against him; I felt my anger ebbing away and I desperately clung to it. I can't just let him be forgiven. I'm not weak.

Instead, all that came out of me was a strangled “Joe….”

“It's just, I've never felt so alone and I – I just need you now.”

Joe slept with Camilla and still claims to everyone he's a virgin. He kissed Demi. He strung me along.

I don't want to be lead on anymore. And I'm not the kind of girl who's a doormat – the kind of girl guys like Joe can walk all over.

“Well – well, that's just too bad,” I said, my voice cracking despite my futile attempt at sounding strong. So, I did the next thing I thought of.

I hung up on him.

But all the while, I missed him more than ever. I was tired of fighting, too. I wanted to go back to where we kissed – where I could just lie in his arms and everything would feel alright.

{∞∞∞}

I held my NYU ID in front of the security camera outside the residence halls.

There was a silence, then “Room two-oh-four,” and I was buzzed in.

I slowly walked through the apartment complex, climbing a staircase, wandering through the exposed hallways. Finally, I came upon room 204.

I opened the door, after unlocking it, and looked around at the fully furnished apartment. I left all of my luggage at the entrance and collapsed down face-down onto the couch. After taking a deep breath, I flipped myself over, readjusted my glasses, stood up, and unpacked.

I mean, I'm supposed to have a roommate. Really, I lucked out that I got an apartment instead of being in a residence hall with around six other people as dormmates.

I dug through the luggage, hanging up all my clothes, feeling oddly empty. I stopped when I got to the bottom, where the picture Joe gave me was. I picked it up, biting my lip.

I miss the times when we'd just laugh together.

I realized I was clutching the picture frame so tightly that my knuckles had gone white. I closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears trying to escape my eyes yet again. I reached under my glasses, dabbing at my eyes with my fingers.

I do not miss him. I can't miss him. He's Joe and…he's Joe. He hurt me and you're not supposed to miss and/or love people who hurt you.

Also, if my roommate arrived right now, they'd see me clutching a picture frame with one hand and wiping my tears off with the other, while sobbing. Not a very good first impression.

Trying to calm myself down, I walked to the bedroom I'd chosen (not a very short trip) and placed the photo on the windowsill next to my bed. I raked my fingers through my hair and sat down, staring at the photo. I tried not to remember what happened after he gave me, but to no avail.

Our argument. Then the feel of his lips on mine…how he held me. The feel of his hands.

A door opened somewhere in the apartment. Quickly looking to make sure it looked like I hadn't been crying my eyes out just now, I hurried out of the bedroom and forced a smile when I saw a girl with short blonde hair and brown eyes heave her luggage into the apartment.

When she saw me, she said enthusiastically, “Hey! I'm Emma Carrow! And you are?” She staggered past her luggage (we weren't even supposed to bring that many) and stuck out her hand.

“Ava Summers,” I said and shook her hand, hoping that she couldn't tell that I've been crying.

I also hoped that she didn't see that article about me.

{∞∞∞}

“Wait,” Emma said, looking at the picture frame. “Isn't that…Joe Jonas?”

I sat down on my bed next to her, avoiding looking anywhere near the picture. “Yeah.”

“Whoa, you knew him?!”

“Yeah.”

“So, were you two like…dating? I mean, I can totally tell in the his expression in this picture that there was at least something going on.”

“I – no. Joe and I are – we're…”

Come to think of it, what are Joe and I now? Boyfriend/girlfriend was definitely not a choice, sadly.

God, why do I still want to date him after everything? What's wrong with me? He broke my heart in two! Then he practically stomped on the pieces! Granted, I did the same to him, but still. He deserved it.

“…we're best friends,” I finished.

I guess best friends works. I mean, he was still the best friend I've had. And besides, Joe the Best Friend didn't do anything wrong. Joe the Almost Lover did.

Emma nodded. “That's great. My best friend's a guy, too.” She beamed. “And we started dating two months ago. It's really great.”

Clearly, fortune really does have a grudge of sorts against me.

“Really,” I said.

“Yeah,” Emma said. “It's really great because…because we've both waited for it for so long, you know?”

Do I ever.

{∞∞∞}

“Why haven't you been answering your phone?!” Nick demanded as soon as I logged into iChat four weeks later.

I glanced around the empty apartment (Emma was off somewhere). “My cellphone has no service here, apparently. It's like…only at the airport. I'm going to get a new, cheap one for Prague.”

“Oh. Well, can't you talk to Joe? He's really –”

“No. I don't want to talk to him.”

“Ava, he's really miserable. I rarely see him now and when I do, he has this pained smile on his face. Like, he's pretending that everything's okay when he knows people are around and watching him. Kind of like you're doing, actually.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I am not,” I said, lowering my eyebrows.

“When you left, he just went to his room. We had adjoining rooms and I could hear him sobbing.”

“Stop guilt-tripping me. It's not my fault; it's Joe's.”

“I'm not guilt-tripping you. I'm telling you the truth. It's like how when Camilla broke up with him –”

“Nick, if the subject is not changed, I will log out.”

Through the computer screen, I saw Nick shake his head and sigh. “Fine. But, just so you know, it kills me to see you both like this.”

“Nick?” a small, strained voice could be heard on Nick's side. “Are you – are you talking to Ava?”

I shook my head as Nick stuttered, “Wha-what? Um, Joe, just – uh – can't you – uh – work things out?”

I slid out of view as Joe peeked into Nick's webcam.

“That's what I'm trying to do,” he said.

My eyes widened at his disheveled appearance – black, thick-rimmed glasses; untidy hair; red eyes; stubble lining his jaw. I felt a pang of remorse and misery; one thing I couldn't stand was Joe crying. I hated to see him hurt.

“Av?” Joe called out softly. “I just want to see you. Please.” He sighed. “And I just wanted to tell you, 'Happy Valentine's Day.'”

God, I missed that voice. I shouldn't even miss it, but I do.

“Ava, the least you can do is talk to me after the way you've treated me.”

“After the way I've treated you?” I blurted, showing myself in the webcam.

Joe raised his eyebrows. “I didn't mean it like that! Why do you take everything I say as an attack? All I meant was that you never told me that you were going –”

“And you never told me you slept with Camilla! And then you kissed Demi!”

“What?!” Nick said.

“That's none of your business! Besides, I've apologized to you so many times now!”

“Would you use your head, for once?! 'Sorry' is not going to make everything better!”

“What else am I supposed to say? I don't want to fight anymore, Ava! I only wanted to wish you a happy Valentine's day, but apparently that's not gonna happen, because you're ruining mine!”

While Joe and I yelled at each other via webcam, Nick's eyes widened and he waved his arms, saying, “Guys! Calm down!”

“You don't want to fight anymore?” I repeated. “Well, that's rich, seeing as you're fighting me right now.”

“I'M ONLY DEFENDING MYSELF!”

“Defending yourself?” I laughed; it was a high-pitched, cold sound. “By what, yelling at me?”

“Guys!” Nick fruitlessly tried yet again. “Calm –”

“Do you know how much hell I've been through?!” Joe retaliated. “You have no idea how effing hurt I've been lately!”

“I have no idea?” I scoffed. “God, Joe, is it possible for you to stop wallowing in so much self-pity?”

“I BEGGED YOU TO STAY AT THE AIRPORT! HAVE YOU EVER HEARD ME BEG, AVA?!”

“Now you know how I felt! God, I felt like an idiot chasing after you in the snow! And you know what?! I still went after you! Don't act like you're the only victim here!”

“Ava, you drive me so – fucking – insane! Did you know that? Oh wait, we're talking about the insufferable know-it-all here, of course you do! DO YOU DO THIS ON PURPOSE?!”

Frankly, I'm surprised he knows what “insufferable” means.

“Well, that's just stupid,” I said, talking over Nick, who was still trying to calm Joe and I, “because you are so frustrating and – and – UGH!”

=“And you know what's so – so –” Joe raked a hand through his hair, looking for a word “– confusing? The fact that I just want to –”

The webchat screen went black. I assumed Nick, in a finally successful attempt at stopping us from fighting, disconnected the chat.

I was sobbing uncontrollably by the time Emma flounced into the apartment, raving about Liam, her best friend/boyfriend (lucky girl).

“Oh my God,” she gushed, positively and absolutely alight with happiness, “you'll never guess what Liam – what's wrong?”

I shook my head, blowing my nose into a tissue. I felt the couch cushions sink as Emma sat down. “So,” she said hesitantly, “what happened between…between you and…Joe?”

It took a few minutes to calm me down enough that I could say a whole sentence without stuttering. When I did, I took a deep breath and, for the first time, told someone everything in one sitting.

“Well,” I said, “I don't know when I first started to like him in that way. All I know is that it was around five or six years ago that I knew it was really deep…”

When I finished, Emma said, “Maybe…maybe it just didn't work out.”

Not expecting this, I shot her a look. “What?!”

“I mean,” she said, “you don't need to torture yourself right now over him. It could work out eventually, it's just that right now…that James guy sounds like he'd treat you better, you know?”

“I…I guess.”

Emma grinned at me. “You should call him.”

{∞∞∞}

Later on, I trudged into my bedroom, clad in my pajamas. I sunk into my bed. Like a magnet, my gaze immediately shifted to the picture. The picture, softly illuminated by the moon, reminded me of the moments full of laughter, full of ebullience.

The times before everything came crashing down.

I wrapped an arm around Xhaiden, burying my nose in its fur, which oddly smelled a bit like Joe. The picture, like always, being the last thing I saw today, I closed my eyes, wishing that I could melt against Joe's warm embrace again.