“What’s wrong?” said Dad.
I shook my head, forcing the image of Jack’s face out of my head. I had enough going on. I didn’t need him making me feel even worse.
“Never mind,” I said. “Can you excuse me for a minute, please?”
Dad nodded knowingly.
I went through the apartment trying to find Mom. The only closed door was the one to her bedroom. I knocked.
“Go away,” she said.
I ignored her and went in anyway.
Her eyes were red and puffy. She held a wad of tissues in her right hand. At the sight of me, she pulled her knees into herself and turned away.
“I’m sorry, Mom, but can you see why I’m upset?”
“Can you see why I’m upset?”
I sighed. “You spent my whole life telling me not to lie, then you lied about one of the most important things in my life. What if I’d needed a kidney transplant? Or a blood donation? Would you have told me then?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know! Would you get off my back please?”
I stepped closer, my arms out and my palms facing upwards. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but you told me to be honest. So I am being. You hurt me real bad. Just because we’re not related by blood, that doesn’t mean we’re not family.”
Mom looked up at me, her eyes red and bloodshot.
“I love you, Mom, but you really hurt me. I need some time to process that.”
Mom opened her arms and ushered me to her. I went over and curled into her. “I never thought it would come out like this.”
“Did you think it would come out at all?”
She hesitated. “I hoped not. I guess the longer I avoided it, the harder it got to talk about.”
“But what I don’t get is why you preached honesty when you were lying all along.”
She sighed. “I’m human. We all do stupid things sometimes. That was one of mine.”
*
Things became less awkward between Mom and me after that conversation, but they were still a little tense. She was different after moving out of where I’d grown up. As if she’d been tied down for years and she could suddenly live her life again. Like, she decided she wanted to spend Christmas and New Year with a friend on vacation in Costa Rica and I wasn’t invited. At least it meant I got to spend Christmas with Dad and go shopping in London after all, so it could’ve been worse. I returned to New York a couple of days before New Year, assuming all my friends would already have plans, whether that was with other people or their TV.
I met up with Trinity to go to the Macy’s sale and get lunch on my return. Turned out, she had different plans for us both.
“What are you doing New Year’s Eve?” said Trinity, eyeing up a teal scarf that would look amazing against her olive skin.
“I was planning to have a quiet one,” I said.
Trinity snorted. “I’ve never known you to have a quiet New Year’s Eve.” She picked up the scarf and stroked it.
I grabbed a pair of Louboutins and examined them. They were lower than I normally wore, but I liked the peep toe and polka dots. “Exactly. I wanted to do something different this year. It’s been a stressful year. I want the downtime.”
Although, I supposed, without a TV show anymore, I was likely to get it for a while. Not that Trinity needed to know I’d failed almost every audition I’d been to since the show’s cancelation. Why were auditions so soul-destroying? As far as Trinity was concerned, I’d turned down the ones I’d been offered because they weren’t good enough. She hadn’t questioned me when I’d said it, so I was hoping she believed me.
“Well think again. There’s a gig on that I can get two tickets to, and Tainted Crows are playing.” She held on to the scarf, deciding she needed it in her life.
I sighed. Tainted Crows were Trinity’s favorite band. She’d never seen them live because they’d gone on hiatus not long after she’d gotten into their music. Earlier in the year, they’d reformed and she was desperate to see them.
“Please,” she begged. “You know I’ve always wanted to see them.”
“Always? You’ve only been a fan for, like, two years,” I said.
Trinity sighed. “Please say you’ll come? It’ll be fun!”
11
Jack
The holidays mean pain
A reminder of how alone I am
So thanks, but no thanks
I think I’ll skip them.
— “Alone at Christmas” (unreleased), Jack Cuoco
“Thanks for having me,” I said, walking into Len and Angela’s house. I’d been over so much recently that I felt like a part of the furniture. I’d met most of their family and, for some reason, they all seemed to love me. Why, I didn’t know, but Len told me to shut up whenever I questioned it, so I did as I was told. For once. Mostly because I liked Len and he was kind enough to let me into his home. It would be rude to question his motives and his family. I did have some manners.
Christmas dinner was going to be a full-on family affair (plus me) with all of their children, children’s partners, and grandchildren over for the day. It sounded like way too many people for me, but Angela had looked so hurt when I’d initially turned down her invitation that I’d decided to suck it up. Well, sort of. I mostly just downed enough alcohol that I could cope with it but not enough that I’d show up at their house drunk. I also made sure I didn’t smell of alcohol before I went into their house, since that wouldn’t have been fair to Len.
Angela pulled me into a hug. “Anytime.”
I handed her a bottle of nonalcoholic wine that I’d found. The concept seemed dumb to me, but alcohol was banned in their house for obvious reasons. They had to substitute it with something I supposed.
“Everyone’s in the front room if you want to go through,” said Angela.
I hovered in the kitchen. The alcohol hadn’t allayed my nerves at being around a crowd of people as much as I’d hoped.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked, putting her hand on my shoulder.
“Nothing. I’ll be fine,” I said, squaring my shoulders and lifting my head.
Angela narrowed her eyes. “If you say so,” she said, returning to the stove.
I did say so. Even if it was a blatant lie. I didn’t want her to know how weak I was. She had enough going on already with all her family members. The last thing she needed was to get bogged down with my dumbass issues too.
I went toward the living room and hovered in the doorway. Not everyone was there yet. It was Len, Mia, and Mia’s parents. Oh, and the dog. He was the first one to notice my arrival. He galloped over to me—jumping over Mia, who was opening presents—and skidded to a halt at my feet, almost knocking me over. I laughed, picking him up and hugging him. “How’s my favorite dog?” He licked my face.
“Jack!” said Mia, noticing my arrival. “Granddad didn’t tell me you were coming!”
“I wanted to surprise you,” said Len. “Now, open your next present. I think Jack will like this.”
Mia narrowed her eyes. I turned to Len, confused. He winked at me. Max licked my face, not liking that I was ignoring him. I resumed scratching behind his ears as I watched Mia open her present. It was the biggest one there, wrapped in glittery silver paper. Tate wouldn’t have liked that. It wasn’t eco-friendly at all.
What the hell? Why was she in my head?
I stared at the dog, hoping his cute face would replace hers in my mind. It didn’t work, so I forced myself to focus on Mia and what she was doing. She yanked at the paper to reveal a keyboard. “Granddad!” she said, beaming. She hopped over it and ran into him, knocking him over with the force of her hug. I looked away, not wanting them to know I was almost crying. Happy families always made me emotional for obvious reasons. I put Max down and went into the kitchen.
“Everything OK in there?” said Angela.
“Yep. Mia just opened her keyboard.”
Angela smiled. “They weren’t sure about getting her a mus
ical instrument, but when you offered to give her lessons…” She wiped a tear from her eye.
I went over and hugged her. “It’s the least I could do after everything you’ve done for me.”
Angela pulled away from me, holding on to my arms as she looked into my eyes: “We’ve done for you? Do you have any idea how much you’ve done for Len? He’s like a new person since he met you.”
“He is?”
She nodded. “You helped him find his light again, and for that I’ll always be grateful.” She hugged me again, this time full-on sobbing.
The front door opened and a couple with two kids burst in. The children ran straight past us into the living room, while their parents battled with bags. Angela and I pulled apart to go help them.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” said the guy.
She stroked his cheek. “Nothing, honey. You know how emotional I get at Christmas.”
He laughed, hugging her with his free arm. “Yes I do.”
“Jack, this is my son, Isaiah. Isaiah, this is the infamous Jack.”
“I’m infamous now, am I?” I said, putting one of the bags to the side.
“I hear you’re actually famous too,” said the woman I assumed to be Isaiah’s partner. “Mia never stops talking about you.”
“Well, I am pretty awesome,” I said.
The four of us laughed. The woman held out her hand. “I’m Gabrielle, Isaiah’s wife.”
“Len talks very fondly about all of you. I can tell how much he loves you,” I said.
“Nah, he’s just pretending. We drive him nuts really,” said Isaiah with a laugh.
Gabrielle tossed her braids over her shoulder. “I think you’re confusing the rest of us with just you.”
Isaiah rolled his eyes. “See what I have to put up with?”
Even though they were teasing each other, I could see the love they had for each other in their eyes. A pang of jealousy ran through me. I thought I’d had something like that with Tate, but I’d gone and ruined it. “Could you excuse me for a minute please? I could use some fresh air.”
Isaiah and Gabrielle stepped away from the door so that I could go outside. I sat on the steps and stared at the empty street. I hadn’t taken any alcohol with me out of respect for Len, but in that moment, I really needed something. Being around a happy family was one thing, but a happy couple too? Three happy couples, really. As much as I enjoyed their company, every so often it was a stark reminder of how alone I was. And how it was my fault.
I leaned back on the stairs and stared up at the cloudy sky. It was so quiet. Everyone was inside with their families. Usually I would’ve still been in bed, recovering from a party, probably.
The front door opened and Len stepped out. “Jack? What are you doing out here?”
“Sorry, I just needed a minute.”
Len walked down the steps and sat beside me. “Nothing to apologize for, I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Was it all the people?”
I shook my head. “It’s the happy family thing. I know it sounds dumb.”
“No, it doesn’t. Can I tell you something? Something I didn’t even talk about at rehab?”
“Shoot.”
“I didn’t have a great childhood. My father abused me. Having Angela in my life really helped, but I still haven’t been able to shake the visions of what my father used to do to me.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“I’m not telling you this for your sympathy. I’m telling you this to prove to you that your demons don’t have to stop you from being surrounded by love.”
“You say that, but I only have you, Larry, and Melrose left.”
Len straightened up. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You know what I mean.”
He patted my shoulder. “You’ll find who and what you need. You’re young. You still have time. You’re just too damn hard on yourself. You always have been.”
“No I haven’t.”
Len chuckled. “Right. Is that why you hardly ever finish any music for yourself?”
I ran my hand over my head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.”
“Max! No!” shouted Mia from inside.
We exchanged glances, then ran inside. Max had grabbed the biggest piece of glittery wrapping paper he could find and was ripping it to shreds. The kitchen floor was covered in paper and glitter. I bit my tongue so I didn’t laugh.
“Apparently the dog is feeling festive too,” said Len.
Angela laughed. “I think we need to clean up the wrapping paper before we spend all day covered in glitter.”
“Agreed,” said Len. “I’ll put him upstairs out of the way for now.” He reached down to grab the dog’s collar. Max grumbled, still holding on to a piece of paper in his mouth. I reached out to take it. Max tightened his grip on it. “Max, give,” said Angela. Looking annoyed, Max gave me the paper. It was soggy and gross in my hand, but at least it was away from the dog. I trashed it as Len went upstairs with the dog.
Angela looked down at the redecorated floor. “I was thinking of getting new flooring in here, but I’m not sure about silver glitter.”
“It’s a bit gaudy,” I said.
“Yes, it is.”
“Sorry, Mom,” said Mia’s dad, coming into the kitchen. “I’ll get this cleaned up. I didn’t realize Max would go so crazy for it or I would’ve done it as she opened presents.”
“Max goes crazy for anything he can get his teeth into. But he keeps us on our toes, which keeps us young. Kind of like you kids did when you were growing up. Except now we have a permanent toddler,” said Angela.
He started to pick up the paper from the floor. I helped too, my hands getting covered in glitter within seconds.
“You make it sound like we were a handful,” said Mia’s dad.
Angela laughed. “Oh. You were.”
*
After dinner, Mia sat beside me in the living room with a big, doe-eyed look on her face. She didn’t say anything, she just stared.
“Yeeees?” I said.
“Can you teach me how to play my keyboard please?”
“Now?” said Len. “Let his food go down first!”
“It’s OK, I don’t mind,” I said.
“Yay!” said Mia, jumping up off the sofa and running over to grab her keyboard from its spot under the Christmas tree.
“Why don’t we go in the kitchen out of the way?” I suggested, wary of everyone else in the living room discussing what bad Christmas TV to watch.
“Good idea,” said Angela.
Mia and I went into the kitchen, plugged her keyboard in, then placed it on the table. The wire just reached.
“Have you ever played a musical instrument before?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve always wanted to. Apparently it’s good for your brain. Plus it looks fun.”
“It’s both,” I said. I pulled a chair out in front of the keyboard and gestured for her to sit down. Len had given me some sticky notes to put on the keyboard to help Mia find the keys, so I split the piles into two. “I want you to write down the letters A-G on here.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
We wrote down the letters, and I did the flat and sharp notes too. I then stuck the sticky notes above each key on the keyboard. “So that you know where to find each note,” I told her.
“So I don’t need to read music?”
“You can if you want to, but right now, you don’t have to. How something makes you feel is really what matters in music.”
We carried on our lesson for another hour, at which point I could tell she was getting tired. “Why don’t we finish there for today?” I suggested after she’d learned the tune for “Mary Had a Little Lamb.”
Mia nodded. “Yes. I’m thirsty.”
“What do you want to drink?”
“Um, juice?”
I went into the fridge and poured her a glass of
juice, then gave it to her.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “When can we do our next lesson?”
12
Jack
It’s the New Year
Time for a new start
We all say it
We don’t mean it.
— “The Real New Year” (unreleased), Jack Cuoco
There are two great times to be a DJ: the summer, and the holidays. Over the summer, everyone wants to drink and party. Over the holidays, everyone wants to drink and party. That means more opportunities for paying gigs for me.
I was lucky enough to get asked to be part of a New Year’s Eve party at one of the biggest clubs in New York. The downside was that I’d gotten the opportunity because of the popularity of the song I’d written with Tate, which I’d obviously be expected to play. I had to play it at every gig, and every time I did, a little piece of me died inside knowing I’d lost the best thing that had ever happened to me because of my stupid big mouth.
Every so often I’d want to reach out to her. But then common sense would kick in. There was no way she’d ever speak to me again after what I’d said to her. It wasn’t like I’d meant it; I’d just said it because I was hurting and I’d wanted to hurt her.
Well, aside from the career-obsessed part.
There was also the fact that she’d slept with Astin hours after we’d broken up. And she’d admitted to doing it just to make me jealous. Who even pulled those kinds of stunts in real life? It was petty and vindictive, and I didn’t like that side of her. She was better than that.
I’d told her I just wanted her to be happy and I wasn’t jealous, but a part of me was. What hurt more was that she’d dismissed me so quickly. Like I meant nothing to her. It fed into my anxiety about not being good enough for people, and if there was one emotion I knew, it was that one. Everyone in my life left me because I wasn’t good enough for them. Why should she be any different?
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