Tell Me What to Do, I Messed up on You

Some time in September, '07

"John, stop," I giggled as he pushed me up against my locker and kissed me sloppily.

His face broke out into that devilish grin I enjoyed so much, I couldn't help but wish he'd continue anyways, but right then Kennedy walked up to us.

"If you're done raping each other's faces, I need to speak to Rosie for a second," he teased.

I rolled my eyes and gently pulled John to my side. "Yes, Brocky?" I asked.

"I need help with this English paper, I have no idea what to write. I didn't even read all of Hamlet, Rosie," he complained, desperation evident in his eyes.

"No worries, here, I'll help you, let's go write it together," I offered, since me and Kennedy had a free period. "John has to go to class, anyways."

I waved goodbye to John and me and Kennedy made our way to the courtyard. Once we were settled, I proofread what little he was able to write and then gave him suggestions as to how to continue his essay. He kept writing as I kept explaining the plot to him. Once he got the gist of it, he continued scribbling frantically in order to reach the word limit Ms. Smith had assigned us and I started to zone out.

"Hey, we need to plan something for Pat's birthday, it's coming up in less than a week," Kenny said, still writing.

"Oh yeah," I replied, "What'd you guys have in mind?"

"Well, we were thinking of having a house party of some sort but none of our houses are going to be parent-free this weekend...so we were wondering...could we use your's?" he asked, trying to be subtle. He knew there was a reason I never had friends over to my house.

This was the reason I hated getting close to people, because eventually they'd ask if they could come sleep over at your place or come over to watch movies, etc. These are totally normal occurrences that should not freak someone out, especially a teenager. Still, the idea of having these wonderful boys over at my house made me really anxious. Even though me and John had been dating for about a month now, he hadn't been over to my house. Him and Kenny knew that I had my issues, and what I loved about them was that they didn't probe. It was an unspoken agreement, of sorts. I didn't really know how to respond to Kenny. Part of me, a really huge part, too, wanted to agree right away and please everyone and give Pat the best birthday surprise he's ever had. Yet I knew what it would be like for me. The demons, the clammy hands, the anxiety leading up to it, I'd have to call up dad and get money to buy my panic attack medication just in case...

"Hey," Kenny said, softly, lifting up my chin with his hand, "Don't look so worried, look, it's fine. It's not like we have to have a house party, we can always make other plans..."

Somehow I found myself negating him, "No, no, it's fine," I smiled, uncertainly. "You guys can come over. It's this Saturday, right? Yeah. That should be fine."

The next three days passed in a blur of party planning, we had to decide who all we were going to call, where we'd get the booze from, who would order the cake, etc. This was all really fun to do, probably because it didn't involve the boys stepping foot into my house. But as I knew it would, Saturday came around and so did the boys.

I woke up exceptionally early that morning, with knots in my stomach similar to those you get on the day of a big exam or job interview. It was a mix of fear, anxiety and the knowledge that something bad was bound to happen. There was a sour taste in my mouth and I knew it was because I hadn't eaten the last night. I sighed and rolled out of bed, my legs feeling shaky under my body.

I padded downstairs and struggled with a piece of toast and a banana. Halfway through my breakfast, Anna walked into the kitchen, in shorts and a tank top and last night's makeup smeared across her face. She smiled at me widely and turned on the coffee-maker.

"Gah, why is it so bright," she complained.

"It's called day-time. You would know what it was if you didn't make yourself out to be a nocturnal creature," I snapped.

She frowned, "Why are you being bitchy, Posie?"

I sighed, fidgeting with my hands. "Look, remember that party I told you about? That's tonight. John and the others are all coming over around 5 and it could go on all night, the boys plan on sleeping over here itself in the hall. Could you please, please just not do anything crazy, just this once?" I begged.

She laughed sarcastically and widened her eyes, "What's wrong, Rosabel? Scared big ol' Annie's going to embarrass you as usual?" she mocked.

She looked a bit scary with her mascara and kohl all smudged around her eye sockets and I knew for sure she had been drinking last night, if it was a good night. If it was a bad night, it's anybody's guess what she was on. I felt the anxiety rise in me, as if it were a tangible force. It was swooping over my belly and into my chest and I felt as if it was going to drown me.

"Annie..." I started.

She cut me off, "I'm not going to party bomb your fucking high school rager, idiot. Get over yourself. I won't even be in the house. So, go ahead and rejoice," she snapped, grabbing her coffee cup and hurling herself up the stairs.

I sat down for ten minutes and caught my breath, calming down, trying to push her out of my head. Strange as it was, I was scared of her. The way she widened her eyes and abused me when she was drunk, or even when she wasn't, really got to me.

Then, slowly and steadily I went around and started decorating the house for the evening. I went to the backyard and cleaned the pool, which had dirty leaves in it. I was the only one in the house who cleaned, so if I neglected something it went to shit. It took me about two hours to clean the pool, after which I brought out the lawn chairs and laid them out. I took out the fairy lights Jared had given me and put them up around the backyard, and even inflated some balloons and spread them around. By the time I was done with all of that, it was about 3 o'clock.

Inside the house, I took out giant serving dishes and filled them with chips, dip, popcorn and other snacks. I took out the red cups and pulled out the cooler with the juice, gatorade and alcohol. I vacuumed a bit and straightened out the couch cushions.

Then, I went up to get dressed since it was almost 5 o' clock. I slipped into the shower and washed away the thin film of sweat on my body from hauling around furniture. Then I stepped out and towel-dried my hair and then blow-dried it. I walked into my closet with my underwear on, wondering what I would wear. Since it was fall, it would likely become colder as the night progressed so I settled on some burgundy dress and threw over a denim jacket on top of it. Just as I was putting some Chapstick on and fluffing my hair, the doorbell rang. I ran down the stairs and opened the door, John stood there, smiling at me widely.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, pulling me into a hug and giving me a quick kiss.

"Hi, love," I greeted back, fixing his unruly hair. I glanced behind him and saw that Kenny, Jared and Garrett were all unloading even more food, drinks, and supplies from his truck.

I greeted them all and they all came in. Once they were inside, they started goofing off as usual and we went over how we'd surprise Pat. We were expecting the other guests to arrive within the next fifteen minutes. We were all huddled in the kitchen, the boys chowing down on the snacks.

"Hey, you, hands off. That's for when the party begins, fatty," I joked, pulling a bag of Lays away from Garrett.

He groaned and pushed me. "You evil, evil little girl," he joked. "Hey, how come your house is empty anyways? Where are your parents?"

Suddenly, they were all staring at me. I felt really, really microscopically analyzed by their questioning eyes. Although Kennedy tried his best to give me a "you-don't-really-have-to-say-anything" sort of a look, even he looked curious. John simply averted my eyes and pulled me closer by the waist.

"My-uh," I started, my voice cracking. "My dad doesn't stay with us. He lives in North Carolina. And uh...my mom...she's...in rehab."

It seemed like my words had popped the party balloon and everyone looked as though they wished Garrett wouldn't have asked me that question. Garrett himself looked really apologetically at me, and I tried to give him a reassuring smile but I could feel the fakeness in it as much as he could.

I got so caught up in the boys' reactions that I barely noticed that John had walked out of the kitchen. Once the boys went back to lightly talking about something random, like school, I went out and looked for John. I found him in the backyard, hands stuffed entirely in his pockets, breathing really hard.

I put my arm around him, "John?" I asked, but he simply pulled away from me and continued staring into the evening Arizona sky.

I knew how to handle him when he got angry, so I just stood by his side and waited for him to come around. Some, two minutes later he spoke up.

"You know, I know it's been a month and maybe that doesn't mean anything to you, but it does to me, alright? Out of respect for you I never pried into your family life because I knew it would make you uncomfortable...I wanted to wait for you to tell me yourself. Then, this. I mean. I just don't get it, how could you not think to tell me this? This changes everything!" he said, speaking really fast and really loudly.

"Look, Johny," I said, soothingly, taking him by the hand and sitting us down on a lawn chair. "I know it's a big thing. I'm practically parent-less, my guardian is a twenty-year old who is addicted to every illicit substance under the sun. I have to clean this house, cook all three meals, work two jobs, all to provide for a sister who doesn't even think it's wrong to depend on her seventeen year old younger sister. It's hard. I cry. I'm sorry I haven't been able to tell you all of this. The truth is...I'm embarrassed. Growing up, I would have friends come over and my mom would be piss-drunk and she would absolutely traumatize me. Kids weren't allowed to come over to my house, because their parents were afraid of my mom. I know they were only protecting their own kids, but in the bargain I never had any close friends. After a while, even I got weary of letting people in, especially of letting them come over to my house. The thought of it would get me really, really worked up. I had my first panic attack when I was thirteen. I can't really remember what sparked it, but I know it had something to do with my mom. That was the year my dad left us; he never legally divorced my mother, but he just relocated to North Carolina, and left us to live in Virginia. He continued to pay for us and fund us, luckily, but he was never there so things went from bad to worse with my mom. Eventually, it got so bad that dad reached out to an old friend who owns her own rehab facility, here in Arizona, that's why we moved here. Mom's been in rehab for the past 6 months. And for the past two years, my sister's gone down the same road as my mother, pretty much. There was a point where I had two addicts on my hand. I would come home from school and dread opening the door, afraid of what they would have done during those eight hours that I was away...I'd have to make them food, coax them to take a shower and put them into bed. It got bad. It's still bad. I would call my father and cry, but all he ever offered me was money, money, money. Never his time, never his presence, which is what I really could have used. So that's it. That's the story. That's my life, and what I do and who I am. If it scares you, I understand. If you want to end this, I understand. We can still be friends, I'd completel-"

"Shut up," John cut me off, pulling my face towards his and kissing me deeper than he ever had before.

His hot breath was so soothing, so calming, the knots in my stomach seemed to disappear entirely. He broke away from my lips and kissed me multiple times, on my nose, my forehead, my cheeks, every crevice of my face. He pulled me into his lap and gave me a tight hug.

"I...I love you, Rosie," he professed, looking into my eyes with a simple honesty that I knew could never be faked.

Suddenly, Kennedy pulled open the glass sliding door leading into the backyard and yelled, "This way, folks," leading a horde of people into my backyard.

We got so caught up in our conversation that we didn't even hear the doorbell ring and the people come in. People streamed in and pulled us apart, soon me and John were on opposite ends of the house making small talk about things that didn't matter with people who didn't matter. My eyes looked for his desperately, and when I finally found him, he beckoned me towards him. I excused myself from whoever I was talking to and went over to him.

He pulled me closer and hugged me from behind, on his breath I could smell the delicate spritz of whiskey as he said, "Let's ditch this place?"

I simply nodded, he took me by the fingers and led me up the stairs. We snuck into my room and he shut the door, looking around. This was the first time he had been in my room. He nodded approvingly at the posters on my wall.

He made his way to map of the world that I had put up, he pointed at all the random red dots on it, "Places you want to visit?" he guessed.

I nodded, sitting down on my bed, watching him discover me in ways I had not allowed him to previously. He sifted through my albums and LPs. I laid down as he called out all the ones he liked or wanted to borrow from me, I simply kept nodding, my face breaking out into the most uncontrollable smile. I had a feeling that the smile was going to stick, for some reason. I just had a feeling.

And as the party pulsed downstairs and we heard several yells and shouts and thuds, we felt completely content laying together in my bed listening to old records. And as I laid there in his arms I thought that for the first time, life was being good to me.