Joey. His worried face. What was it now? What was wrong that he had that, that look. He'd looked like that when I was in the cemetery that night, saying goodbye to my mom, leaving. He stopped me. He had that same look.

I knew why he was so worried, of course I knew. He reached for my face because it was cut and bleeding from Skinny punching me, and I jerked away from him. I was always doing that but I couldn't help it. What did he want from me? I'd just had the shit kicked out of me, again, so I guess I was a little jumpy.

"What happened, Craig?" he said, staring at the blood from my lip, but he didn't try to touch me again. What happened? That was always the question, wasn't it? I thought about how I'd thought Skinny was my friend. He was kind of getting angry at times. He wouldn't let me go to the soup kitchen or anything like that, and he'd tell me what to do, but still. I kind of needed him. He had been my friend, or at least I thought he was.

"My friend," I said, and I remembered when I had been practicing, working on my song for the Kevin Smith movie and he stopped me from playing it, and he looked at me with that dark angry look and said, "when you're with me you do what I say, understand?" And I'd just looked at him, hearing my dad. So I didn't know.

"No, not my friend," I said quick. Joey. He was always so nice to me, no matter what I did. I almost felt like crying. I didn't deserve him. And I'd made him and Caitlin fight like that, just like I had done with my parents. I was like toxin to people. Caitlin was probably so mad at me, she probably hated me for ruining things.

"Does Caitlin hate me?" I said, and Joey looked surprised.

"What? Why would she hate you?"

"Because I make you fight, and I always hurt you, like my dad hurt me. Did you know my dad used to hit me?" I used to never mention that, but sometimes, especially if I wasn't taking my meds, it was closer to the surface. Maybe he was bipolar, too, my dad, I mean. He might have been. It certainly makes you be out of control. And man, was he out of control. He would actually lift me up off the ground and slam me into walls, he'd take off his belt and just, just, he wouldn't stop hitting me with it. But Joey knew that. Joey knew my dad used to hit me. Joey thought I was crazy. That was what the whole problem was. No matter what was wrong, Ashley leaving or Spinner and Jay getting Jimmy shot or him fighting with Caitlin, he just blamed it all on me being a nut.

"You just think I'm crazy, everyone thinks I'm crazy. You blame everything on me being crazy," I said, hitting the table, pulling away from him. But I saw his face from the corner of my eye, his sad face, and I was sorry. I couldn't take it back, though. I couldn't take anything back.