I am so very sorry that I took so long to post a new chapter. It was a very long vacation that I took. But what do you expect? I never miss the Carnevale.
Then I got sick. Again. Which is actually a tradition for me (Alexz goes to the carnival and heads home, and then she catches something really dumb and annoying, like a common cold or a stomach virus. Sometimes she breaks a bone in a stupid fall). In consequence, I didn't feel like doing anything in my free time, except sleep. Or allowing myself to be babied by Seth. But then I really had to stay home and skip work and school because my parents and my doctor ordered me, so I had a lot of free time, all of which I don't want to spend on sleeping. So I finally had the chance to focus on writing for a couple of days.
Also, I admit it. I had writer's block. But it's all well now. Nothing that a few (too many) good, extensive breaks between school assignments can't cure. It's amazing how we are most inspired when we're supposed to be doing something completely different.
Author's note: Bear in mind, I might change the story name by the following chapter. Justthought I'd give you a heads-up.
Disclaimer: Don't own JOA. No longer wish to own JOA. Too much responsibility. Would rather borrow it occasionally for fun. Enjoy.
Chapter Soundtrack (This is quite an angsty one): "All of this past" by Sarah Bettens, "Empty apartment" by Yellowcard, "When you're around" by Dido (hidden track in Life for Rent), "20,000 seconds" by K's Choice, "Slipping away" by Sum 41, "She has no time" by Keane, and "How to be dead" and "Grazed knees" by the amazing Snow Patrol. They. Are. Brilliant.
The Beginning of the End
by UltraViolet41 a.k.a La Gioconda
Chapter Thirteen – My heart at my feet
That was the longest school morning Joan had lived through yet. Nobody talked, either because they were still too hoarse from all the screaming, or still couldn't hear because of the beeping in their ears, or because they were barely awake. Joan was all three, but she was also in a very bad mood. She wasn't too mad at Luke anymore. She was mad at Adam.
He just sat beside her, in AP Chem and all the other classes they shared. He deliberately sat next to her, and then he never said a word. He wouldn't even look at her. Joan tried not to think about it; it was part of her plan to not speak or look at him either, so as to get the message across, but she had no idea if it was working or not. Or how long she would have to maintain this attitude. She just felt like yelling at him.
The final bell rang. The gang shuffled out of the Economics classroom, limbs moving very slowly and faces twisted in pain.
"Man, I obviously hadn't been to a concert in a long time," Carolina said, clutching her lower back with both hands.
"Anyone got any aspirin?" Remy asked, holding his head. Jordan reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol. He took it. "Ah, even better. Thanks, love."
"So, what are the plans for tonight?" Grace inquired, her voice still scratchy.
Everyone stopped in their tracks and stared at her as if she had just sprouted a beak.
"No plans for tonight, mate. Are you crazy? I do believe we could all do with some serious rest tonight. And I'm starting off as soon as I get home," Erika said. Everyone else nodded. Grace held up her arms in defense.
Before she knew it, everyone was going their own way, and Joan was walking alone, leaving behind the school building and thinking blissfully about the feeling of her pillow and covers, because as soon as she got home she was hitting the mattress. She would have a lot of time to sleep, being probably grounded for the whole weekend, and most likely beyond.
When she was near the bus stop, she looked over her right. Luke was nowhere in sight. However, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned to look over her left shoulder and saw Adam, about two inches away from her.
"You scared me," she snapped. He ignored her tone and held her gaze.
"We need to talk."
"Really? About what?"
"Come on, Jane. Obviously you're upset because I went to the concert without telling you. But it's not like there isn't an explanation."
Joan cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms expectantly.
"I wasn't really going to go. I mean, when I was talking to you on the phone, it never occurred to me that a few hours later I would actually be in the arena," Adam said.
"Did Harry Potter transport you there with a flick of his wand?" Joan asked sarcastically. Adam's shoulders slumped.
"Can I finish? Just two seconds after you hung up with me, Erika calls me. She said they were picking up Luke, and that they were going to convince you to come along too. But they needed me to come as well, because I would be the one to convince you. So she told me to get ready, and they were picking me up about a minute later. Grace was there, and she assured me you were going to come. But when we got to your place, you didn't come. Luke said you didn't want to come, and that you had tried to stop him from going too. I realized I was tricked into going to the concert. I yelled at Troy to drop me back at my house, but he wouldn't. So I was stuck."
Joan stopped clicking her heel on the ground in impatience and narrowed her eyes. "You expect me to believe that?"
"Yes. It is the truth."
"So they held you hostage."
"Pretty much. Yeah."
Joan gave him a disbelieving look. "Adam, you knew I didn't want to go to the concert. I mean, I did, but not if it meant disobeying my parents."
"But you went. Alone. And none of us yet understands why."
"That has got nothing to do with you. The point is, you're a freaking liar. I had told you I had no problem if you decided to go to the concert even if I wasn't. But you said you weren't. And then you did. And to top it off, you go ahead and blame others for your dishonesty," Joan began to turn slightly red.
"Okay, fine. I made a mistake. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? You said it yourself; it's only a stupid concert."
"No, Adam, it's the fact that you were dishonest. I mean, how do you think I felt when I found out that my boyfriend had lied to me and gone off with our friends to have fun when he had claimed he wouldn't go if I wasn't going?"
Adam's mouth dropped open, but no words came out. He blinked a couple of times.
"Did I hear you right?" he muttered. Joan frowned in confusion. He was staring at her strangely. "I'm not your boyfriend anymore. And if I reckon correctly, it wasn't me who decided that."
A look crossed Joan's face for a split second, as if she had been slapped. She realized she had referred to Adam as her boyfriend, when in fact they hadn't been a couple for months. She closed her eyes and shook her head, realizing her mistake.
"I… you know what I mean," she mumbled.
It was Adam's turn to shake his head. "No. I don't," he said, his tone of voice shifting. "What is this about, Jane? Are you tired again of how things are going? Do you need to scramble things up every once in a while?"
Joan glared at him, not believing her ears. His manner was rather mean, as if trying to provoke her. "Why are you being like this? I'm the one who's supposed to be mad at you."
"But why? Jane, you never were like this when we were going out. You were never controlling or jealous or anything. Why would you start now?"
Joan racked her brain, trying to think of what to say. But before she could speak, Adam continued.
"We weren't like this. We were never a regular couple. Sure, we sometimes felt jealousy, like when you thought Judith and I were going around behind your back or when I wasn't completely okay with you spending time with that Roger guy. And we argued, we fought, we ignored each other. That's what couples do. But we're not a couple anymore. And you still behave like we are."
Joan grinded her teeth. "Well, what do you think? You can't expect me to completely disregard what we used to have. After we broke up, you didn't really expect things to go back to the way they were before, right? I mean, are you going to tell me that you've lost every feeling that you used to have for me when we were going out? Do you really feel like we're back to the way we were before any of this happened?"
"Of course not. It's the complete opposite. I mean, you have no idea…" he trailed off, not looking at her for a moment. Then he went on. "What I don't understand is why you're acting so... I don't even know how to explain it. But you get mad at me because I went to the concert without telling you. And you feel jealous of me and Jordan just because we hit it off really soon. What does that mean, Jane: you don't want to be with me, but then I can't be with anybody else either? When I was with Iris it was one thing, but now it's just getting ridiculous."
Joan's face was a mix between surprise, embarrassment and indignation. Joan wasn't sure if she'd ever seen Adam so exalted. She blushed, realizing how aware Adam had actually been of Joan's jealousy toward his relationship with Jordan, at the beginning, when she thought they were flirtatious. And she was a bit offended at being called ridiculous. But all in all, she realized Adam was closer to the truth than what she could perceive herself. Though she would not admit it.
"Tell me why you're being like this," Adam said, this time speaking softer. He took a step closer to Joan, and it made her heart beat a little faster; whether it was because his approach made her nervous or the nearness of him made her heart flutter, she didn't know. But she could barely look at him straight in the eye.
"I want to know, Jane. I don't want to be mad at you, and I certainly don't want you to be mad at me. So if you can tell me what is wrong, why you're acting like this with me, then we can try to sort it out. Please, tell me," Adam said in a very soft and sweet voice. Joan swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to think straight, but it was very difficult when his dark eyes were gazing into hers with a pleading expression.
"Look, Adam… I-I'm sorry I gave you a hard time. I was- I just, well, right now it's a lot of things put together. I'm pissed because of Luke and now I'm grounded, and I guess it was partly also because you went to the concert without me," she finally managed to say, hiding the quiver in her voice as best as she could. "Can we just forget about the whole thing?"
"I don't know. Can you?" Adam asked back. Joan was taken aback once again by the sting in his tone.
"Adam, I already said I was sorry. Why won't you let it go?" she argued, throwing her hands in the air. "What do you want me to say? That all of this has been because I have a deeper reason? That I want to get back together? Is that what you want me to say?"
"I would love to hear you say that," Adam said, his voice losing its spitefulness and becoming suddenly mild. "If that is how you really feel, then I would be so glad if you said so. Because I've wanted to say it myself. But I'm afraid to say it. I'm afraid to get hurt again. But if you are willing to take the risk, then I am too."
Joan's defensive state popped like a bubble. She stared at him, nonplussed. She couldn't believe the words coming out of his lips.
Adam continued, the mildness turning into deep sorrow. "You and I, we have something special. We always did, no matter what we called ourselves. That's why I still want to be your friend, no matter how much you've hurt me. Because you're Jane, and that's priceless to me. But you complicate things too much."
Tears welled up in Joan's eyes. But she refused to let them fall.
"I wish there were a perfect balance. For you and me. But it's difficult…" Adam whispered. It was obvious he wanted to cry too, but he wouldn't.
"I wish that too. You know that I do," Joan replied, the trembling in her voice becoming more difficult to conceal. For what seemed like the longest time, they stood there, not looking at each other. If they did, they would not be able to control themselves. Joan wished so hard that she could just reach out and hold him, that they could hold each other, and not need to say anything for everything to be fine again. But there were things that needed to be said, no matter how difficult it could be. She couldn't take words for granted. Not with Adam. She would just have to find a way.
"Maybe I have wanted to say it," she began slowly, her voice barely audible over the beating of her heart. "I just haven't been sure of how to say it, or I haven't had the courage." She swallowed and took a deep breath. "I know I've hurt you, and I'm afraid to hurt you again. I'm also afraid of getting hurt, too. I can't yet inside your head, so I don't know what you feel. And even from inside my own head, I'm not sure of what I feel."
Adam sighed, his eyes darting around, avoiding Joan's. Joan took another deep breath, praying for the courage to say what she really wanted to say. She got rid of the gap between them, but she was afraid to take his hand. He couldn't avoid her eyes any longer, and he finally looked at her. Joan's heart was thumping louder and faster.
"If I told you honestly," she began hesitantly, "that I would like to try again… to give us another chance… what would you say?"
She gazed hopefully at him. She could feel his breath quicken, feel his heart beat faster, almost in coordinate rhythm with hers. Joan found herself stealing a quick glance at his lips, wanting to kiss them, before he could say anything at all. Wanting him to kiss her.
He looked away. He took a step back. Before Joan could react, the distance between them was evident again, getting broader by the second.
"I don't know," Adam said, his tone between apologetic and pained. "I'm sorry; I just… I don't know. I don't know what I feel either. I just can't tell you right now. I need to think." He seemed frightened and confused. "I'm sorry, Jane." He turned toward the path he walked everyday to go home, taking long and quick strides, as if trying to get away from her as fast as possible.
Joan could have called after him, but there would have been no point. She just stood there, her heart at her feet, watching him walk away.
"What do you want from me, Jane? Do you want me to just sit like a good boy waiting around for you to decide if it's been long enough?
Adam's words from nearly five months ago rang in Joan's mind as her subconscious stubbornly replayed the break-up in her mind for the umpteenth time since it had actually taken place. She had said she needed a break, a time-out from their relationship, to re-evaluate her life, after all that had been going on in her life. She said she didn't know how much time it would require, but
After standing near the bus stop for a full five minutes, still staring in the direction Adam had gone even after he had been out of sight, she had managed to snap out of her trance and drag herself toward the bus, which had just pulled into the bus stop. She zombie-walked toward the nearest empty seat and slumped down, and fixed her eyes out the window during the whole ride. She went straight to her room when she got home, not bothering to check if anyone else was in the house at the moment. She closed the door, pulled the curtains shut, threw herself on the unmade bed, and cried into her pillow.
"I don't have to put up with this shit, not from you and not from anyone else. I'm not a robot, Jane, you can't pretend like I have no feelings."
He had started yelling at that point. He never yelled. Joan barely countered. There was more pain in their voices than anger.
"Then I guess this is it."
Adam looked at her in utter disbelief. Without another word, he had stormed out of her house.
Joan had been too shocked to cry. After Adam left, she only shelled up in her room until the next day. Nobody had come looking for her. They probably understood she wanted to be alone. But that night, Helen brought the cordless into her room and told her Adam wanted to talk to her. She agreed to come to his shed so they could talk. This time, neither one yelled. They talked until very late; Adam had obviously thought things over a lot, and he decided to be supportive. He understood everything Joan had gone through had been building up in her. He told her he was there for her anyway, even if only as a friend. Joan had only hugged him and cried into his shoulder.
But Joan had actually regretted her decision only moments after the words had come out of her mouth. She was unable to take it back right away; it was too late. She would have to wait and see what would happen, whether it was in the near future or after a very long time. She just couldn't undo it right away. It was not fair to Adam. He was hurt at first, but he decided to take it well. And not in his usual apathic, "whatever, life goes on" manner, like with most things that don't really matter to him. He took this break-up positively, optimistic, because he hoped it was only a passing thing, a time-off they really needed, even if they hadn't realized it sooner or refused to realize it. And also, he took it well because he wanted to be a good guy, an understanding boyfriend, but most importantly, he wanted to be an understanding friend.
All this time, Joan and Adam had been fine as friends, quite like they had been at the very beginning when they first met. But Joan knew that she wanted to be more than just friends once again. It had been a decision that she had been playing around for a while now. But when it comes to love, you never know when the time is right or not. You just follow your instinct. The thing was that, Joan didn't trust her instincts very much, given that they had deceived her many times before.
Those same instincts had been signalling her that maybe she needed to take things slower. Joan had felt that her relationship with Adam had been stuck in a downward spiral as they were reaching the end of junior year. She felt it had something to do with everything that happened during their time together. Joan's disease and her summer away in crazy camp, Judith's death, and all of those things. It was too many things put together.
Maybe it also had something to do with the fact that Adam had believed her that she spoke to God, and he never ceased to believe it, even when she never spoke to him about that again. Joan had never wanted to bring him into it; she couldn't reveal anymore to him or get him involved in any way, because she was afraid of what that might mean, of what that might do to them.
But it was true. There eventually came a time when she couldn't pretend things hadn't changed. She needed to revaluate her relationship with Adam, revaluate her relationship with God. And revaluate herself.
Her break up with Adam had been the hardest thing to do, and to overcome. But later they realized they could still be together, as friends, things became normal again, and Joan thought they were back to happy.
That is, until some time later, when she realized she missed him. She missed his kiss and his arms, and she missed hearing him tell her he loved her. During the summer, she was back to that butterflies-in-stomach state when she was around him, and craved his attention. She was glad that he hadn't shown much interest in other girls during all that time, just like she hadn't tried to get involved with any other guy. Especially when she couldn't stop thinking about him. But she was unable to bring herself to discuss with him their current situation and her questions on where they stood, and if there was a chance that they could be back together.
However, she couldn't avoid it any longer. She wanted to be back together with Adam. The question now was if he wanted the same.
Joan lay in bed for the longest time. She couldn't sleep, but she wasn't fully awake either. Her eyes stung because she was tired and because she had been crying. She raised her head from her tear-stained pillow and looked blearily at the digital clock on her nightstand. It was six thirty two. Her parents and her brothers were most likely home already. Nobody had come looking for her.
She couldn't muster the energy to get up, much less leave the room. She took one of her shoes off and threw it at the door. The heavy-soled shoe hit the door noisily and fell to the carpeted floor with a soft thump. Joan lay on her back and waited. Promptly, someone knocked on her door. It was Kevin. Joan mumbled to him to come in.
The door opened, sending a rectangle of yellow light cutting through the darkness of her room. Her brother's silhouette was outlined by the light behind him as he wheeled himself in. "Are you okay?"
Joan looked at him, upside down from her position on her bed, and frowned. "You're smart, Kev. What does it look like?"
Kevin chuckled lightly. "I know, that was a stupid question; I'm sorry," he said. "Is this because of your imminent punishment? I know mom and dad haven't officially grounded you or Luke yet. But I heard them talking downstairs, and they sounded pretty rational and calm. Maybe it won't be as bad as you think."
Joan gave an exasperated sigh. "This is not about that. I—" she stopped herself short. "I don't want to talk about it." She grabbed her pillow and put it over her head to shield her eyes from the harsh light flooding in.
"Oh, no, please, don't asphyxiate yourself. I'm sure it's not worth killing yourself," he said jokingly. "Anyway, I came upstairs originally to let you know there is someone downstairs wanting to talk to you."
Joan lowered the pillow to her chest and looked at Kevin. "Who?"
"I don't know. Some guy."
Some guy. Surely not Adam. For one thing, Kevin would tell her if it was Adam. And Joan highly doubted that Adam wanted to talk to her so soon.
"He's waiting outside on the porch," Kevin added before leaving the room. He closed the door behind himself and Joan was once again immersed in the bleak darkness of her room. She lay there motionless for half a minute, before rolling out of bed.
She stepped out the front door, looking around for her visitor. She didn't care if her hair was tousled, her face tear-stained and her eyes puffy; she had an inkling now of who was visiting her, and her appearance was not so important then.
Sure enough, she found God sitting on the white wicker couch, in cute boy form with His trademark brown jacket. Joan wrapped her bed-wrinkled gray parka tightly around her body, shielding herself from the chilly evening air. She wordlessly approached and sat next to Him on the couch, not looking at Him.
"Now you ambush me at my own home?" she asked quietly. She didn't want anyone to hear their conversation from inside the house.
God wasn't looking at her either. His eyes were surveying the neighboring houses across the streets. "What are you talking about? I've come before, haven't I?"
"Whatever. I'm not in the mood to talk."
"I suppose you're not."
"Then why bother coming by?"
"Because I figured you would like to have something to take your mind off things," God said, and he continued before Joan had the chance to roll her eyes. "If I haven't mentioned this many times before, you need to focus more on your studies."
"Oh, yes, the drama of my decaying grades is the perfect antidote for depression," Joan replied.
God ignored her comment. "If you really want to go to college, you better take this school year very seriously. It's essential that you try your best, because this is your last chance."
"You sound like a career counselor. Boring and not at all encouraging."
"There is a very important assignment coming up. You need to give it your best effort and do well in it. Keep that in mind."
"Why is this one so important?"
"All assignments are important."
Joan sniffed. "You know, you're supposed to be merciful and all that. People turn to you for comfort. I'm having a terrible day. Where is my comfort?"
"People find their own comfort. I'm actually like a placebo."
"A placebo is a thing that is not the real thing. Are you saying you're a fake?"
"If I tried to set things straight every time you misinterpret my words, we wouldn't get much else done."
Joan ignored the fact that God had pretty much just called her dumb. "All I'm saying is that I would appreciate a few words of consolation from the all-knowing Almighty. Is that too much to ask?"
"The best comfort anyone can get is seeking and finding solutions for themselves," God declared. Joan frowned at Him.
"Easy for the all-knowing Almighty to say."
"Joan, are you out here?"
Joan turned toward the front door at the sound of her mother's voice. Helen walked through it and approached.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company."
Joan turned to God. She had been half-expecting Him to vanish into thin air or something the moment Helen appeared. But He was still there, sitting next to her, grinning innocently. Joan glared at Him.
"Well, he was just leaving anyway," Joan said. She stood up and pulled God to His feet along with her.
"Hello, I don't believe we've met," Helen said to God. Instantly, they both turned to Joan, expectant.
"Oh, yeah, this is…" Joan glanced at God puzzled, but God only smiled politely, waiting for her to introduce Him, "this is, um… Josh. He's in my history class. He's new at school," she lied. "Erm… Josh, this is, well, evidently, my mom." God and Helen shook hands.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Girardi. We were just briefly discussing an upcoming assignment," God said.
"It's nice to meet you too, Josh. I'm so sorry to cut your meeting short, but there are some issues the family needs to discuss before dinner."
"Not a problem. I think we cleared everything for the moment. Right, Joan?" He looked meaningfully at Joan.
Joan seemed amused. After all, it's not every day that one gets to see their mom interacting with God while He is pretending to be a regular teenage boy. "Right, yeah," she said, snapping out of it. "Mom, if you don't mind, I just need to check one last thing with Josh and I'll be right there."
"Sure," Helen said. However, she didn't motion to leave. Joan had to lead God halfway to the street until they were out of earshot.
"God is a liar," Joan said in a know-it-all tone, grinning superiorly at God.
"Technically I was telling the truth. We were discussing an upcoming assignment. Your upcoming assignment," God replied, equally know-it-all. "Besides, you're the one who gave me a fake name and all."
Joan glared at him again. "Well, what was I supposed to do? Introduce you as God? As if I didn't have enough of Mental Acres."
"I guess I do look like a Josh, don't I?"
"You're supposed to leave when people are near."
"Still embarrassed of me, Joan?"
"Well, it is a bit embarrassing to have people see me with a good-looking guy and then have them find out I am not romantically involved with him. But that's not the point," Joan shot back, her cheeks blushing slightly. God couldn't help but smirk.
"Keep focused. The best way to find solutions is if we tackle one thing at a time."
"Again with the 'we'," Joan said, rolling her eyes.
"Bye, Mrs. Girardi!" God waved to Helen.
"Bye, Josh!"
God gave Joan a sympathetic smile. "Have a nice weekend, Joan." He turned and headed to the sidewalk, toward the right. Joan stared after Him, eyes narrowed.
"Yeah, fun weekend," she said sarcastically. "I'm getting grounded. Because of you!" She yelled the last bit as He walked away. She would have yelled a few other things at Him, even when He disappeared beyond the neighbor's hedge fence, but Helen was still nearby. Joan spun on her heel and went back up to the porch.
"Ok, mom. I'm ready for you to dictate sentence," Joan declared in her best martyr voice. She opened the front door, but Helen didn't follow her. She was staring in the direction God had gone, squinting curiously.
"How odd," she muttered.
"Mom?"
"It just hit me. Your friend Josh looks exactly like God looked like in a dream I had little more than a year ago."
Joan was dumbfounded. "Huh?" But a second later, she remembered.
"I told you about that dream. It was that day you were hospitalized with Lyme," Helen explained. "The previous night, I dreamt I was in a church, and God was sitting nearby. He looked exactly like that boy, even the same corduroy coat. And then He transformed into you." Helen chuckled when she said that, just like she had the first time she described her dream. Joan had been worried then, and she was worried now. She didn't like the idea of her mom seeing God. Not in the same way Joan did.
"Oh, well, you've probably seen him before. And in your dream, God looked like him," Joan lied.
"I thought you said he was new," Helen inquired. Joan thought quickly.
"New at school, not new in town," she replied. Helen nodded in understanding before going inside. Joan blew a sigh of relief and followed her mother into the dining room, where the three Girardi men were waiting. Will looked sternly at Luke, Luke in turn looked grim and sullen (or maybe just sleepy), and Kevin was quite detached. Joan took her seat next to Luke and gave a sigh of resignation. She saw Kevin giving her a sympathetic smile; much like God had done a moment ago.
This is not my day, she thought miserably as her parents got ready to speak.
Wow, this turned out to be quite a short chapter (in comparison to the others), and yet this has been the worst writer's block I've had to overcome so far. It could've been worse, though. I've been reading Milan Kundera; for those who haven't had the privilege of reading his work, he can make you feel very, very insignificant as a writer. He is brilliant. I would say falls into the category of "romangsty" (that's my own word), which encloses the aesthetic romanticism and the realistic existential angst of human beings, no matter the epoch in which you live. If you haven't read him, I encourage you to do so. But bear in mind, I'm serious; if you're a writer, you'll feel tiny.
Mike: you are tiny. I mean, literally.
Alexz: Silence, nincompoop.
In the darkNess