The Punchline to the Joke Is Asking

After refusing Avenged Sevenfold’s offer, I found myself sitting in their van next to The Rev in the very back row of seats, my guitar on my other side. When I’d said no, Jimmy had given me the saddest face I’d ever seen, and the other guys had all started protesting. Then the cops came out and said just to take me so they wouldn’t find me hitchhiking again.
So here I was, laughing at everything Jimmy said as we drove off towards Arizona, because two cops had approved my kidnapping. People could do anything to a homeless kid.
“Where’re you headed, anyway?” Johnny Christ asked, twisting in his seat to look back at me.
“Um, I was shooting for Chicago, but it doesn’t really matter.” I shrugged. “Cities are all the same.”
“We’re touring through Chicago next month.” Syn put in, and I tilted my head to one side. I wasn’t clear on whether they were dropping me off somewhere or whether they thought they were keeping me.
“Cool.” I nodded. Next month was only two weeks away, so I guess I could stick around with A7X until they hit Chicago. If they decided they’d drop me off, I could either face the music backhome there or clear out; if they took me with them, well, it was the same as clearing out.

When we reached the next town, the guys forced me to go shopping and bought me clothes. I hated charity, I hated help, and I hated accepting gifts, so it pained me to grit my teeth and try on jeans and t shirts, no matter how awesome they were. I got the bare minimum, though, and steadfastly refused to buy more.

When we got to the hotel, I was informed I’d be rooming with Syn and Jimmy, then everyone scrambled around to get their bathing suits on and go down to the pool. I changed last, and when I left the room I found out Jimmy had been waiting for me patiently. He gave me a sad look when he saw me in my hoodie and jeans.
“I hope you’re not planning on wearing that down to the pool.”
“I’ve got my bathing suit on under it.” I admitted grudgingly.
“Good.” Jimmy chirped, grinning as he took my hand. “’Cause otherwise we’d feel guilty when we threw you in the pool.”

-X-

“Please?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please?”
“Pretty no.”
Jimmy was whining at me from the pool, and I was just kind of waving him off from the lounge chair I sat in.
“Why not?” He’d been smiling the whole time because, as I’d already learned, almost nothing could bring Jimmy down.
“Because… I’m self conscious.” I admitted, swallowing my pride.
“Oh, come on! You’re seventeen and skinny! How bad could it be?” Matt laughed at me, and I bunched up the sleeves of my hoodie even tighter into my fists.
“It’s the scars.” I mumbled, looking down.
“Jailbait, we’ve seen you in a t shirt, remember?” Johnny reminded me, and I nodded.
“I know.”
“Come on. I can promise that everyone but Jimmy won’t stare.” Syn grinned kindly, and Jimmy smacked him upside the head.
I swallowed, knowing I wouldn’t win this one, and stood up, taking off my hoodie. I kept my eyes on the concrete so they could break their promise and stare, then stripped off my jeans. I felt awkward doing that, even though I had a tankini on. The tank top part fell to the bottom of my ribcage, hiding the bones that stuck out far enough to be easily counted, though my stomach was almost nonexistent at this point.
I pulled my two-tone hair back into a ponytail at the back of my neck, then went and dove in the pool without looking at them. I was imagining all the bad reactions they could have; revulsion, disgust, pity. Pity was the worst.
There was no way to not react to the scars on my legs, the bullet wounds in my chest, the back of my arm, my leg, the scars under the corners of my jaw; they were so there, and not only that, but they were me, and I think I’d keep them even if I had the opportunity to get rid of them.
I surfaced, then glanced at the guys, who were allof course staring. I raised my eyebrows, faking a crooked grin. “Way to keep your promise.”
They all immediately looked in different directions, running their hands through their hair, rubbing the back of their neck, splashing aimlessly, anything to look occupied.
Johnny accidentally splashed me, so I tackled him, sparking a splash war that ended when Jimmy put me up on his shoulders.
He craned his neck to grin up at me, and I grinned back down. “I feel really high up.”
Jimmy laughed, then something caught his attention. “Were these intentional?” he reached up, brushing one of the scars under my jaw, and I reflexively twitched away from the touch.
“Didn’t mean to leave a scar.” I mumbled, unable to face the kindness in his blue eyes.
“So what were you doing?”
“…Hanging myself.” I admitted, ashamed for what might have been the first time. I’d never regretted trying to kill myself, really just that I hadn’t succeeded or had a life worth living. For the first time, I hated myself for giving up.
“Oh.” Jimmy said, blinking like he’d never even heard of a suicide attempt in his perfect world.
“Yeah.” I replied awkwardly, sliding off his shoulders and into the water, not looking at him or the other guys, who were in a heated chicken battle.
Jimmy draped an arm around my shoulders, waiting until I met his gaze to speak.
“If you’re ever that upset again, you talk to me. No matter what.” It was the only time Jimmy was ever 100% serious, not even alluding to a joke.