For reasons I'll never understand, I could not get it together and edit this chapter! It took me FOREVER. I'm so sorry for the wait, but here you go! I'm finally happy with it.

This chapter is dedicated to lethologicas, droughtful, and VeraMicic. They've been waiting for Josh a looong time. :) Hope he doesn't disappoint!

I'd also like to thank the rest of you guys for being so patient with me. I know you've been waiting a long time too.

Misery Loves Company

By: theinkslingerr

Track 12: Of Rain and Rooftops

The panic hit me like a mean kid during a game of dodgeball.

This couldn't be happening right now! This couldn't be real! Coincidences like this only happened in movies and books you found in the young adult section at dusty, old libraries! I was probably still in bed dreaming, waiting for my obnoxious alarm to wake me up.

"And who might you be?" Mrs. Mayer asked Josh.

No, Mrs. Mayer! I agonized internally. Your mouth is supposed to get all creepy and I'm supposed to hear Bound for the Floor!

Instead Josh continued to block the doorway; that stupid, confusing smile still on his face. "Josh Henderson," he answered. His eyes never left mine. "Godzilla fan, taco enthusiast, and new student. Nice to meet you."

Mrs. Mayer cracked a smile. "It's always nice meeting a fellow taco enthusiast. Where are you from, Mr. Henderson?"

"Here, actually, but I've been in Palo Alto for the past few years with-" Josh paused, his smile dimming a bit. "It was time to come home."

"Then welcome home! Go ahead and take a seat anywhere. You're just in time to hear why everyone hates my class," Mrs. Mayer instructed cheerfully.

"Sounds good." Josh chuckled, slowly making his way down my row.

Don't, I wanted to scream. Don't you dare sit next to me! My ribcage became a pinball machine and my heart: the little silver ball that ricocheted off the sides. Gripping the edge of my desk in white-knuckled fear and anger soon became difficult when my palms started to sweat. My hands slid around uselessly before falling into my lap where they formed shaking fists. I let out a deep breath and turned to Enid for moral support, but she was too busy glaring her own daggers at Josh.

That's when I decided to compile a mental checklist.

Desk in front of me- occupied.

Desk to my left- Enid.

Desk behind me- occupied.

Desk to my right- Stoner Steve.

Oh, thank God for Stoner Steve.

I wanted to sob in desperate relief when I realized the closest Josh could sit was two desks ahead of the pot-loving skateboarder.

Josh stared at said desk then me. His jaw clenched and I thought he was going to keep walking back, but he dropped his backpack on the floor and sat down heavily.

He was planning something. I knew he was planning something, but what? Did the smile in the doorway and the jaw clench near the desk mean "I'd really like to punch you right now" or "I can't wait to Fedex your organs to your Mother?"

It was impossible to tell and neither sounded like my idea of fun, so my hand flew up in the air.

"Yes, Misery?" There was surprise in Mrs. Mayer's voice, because I hardly ever raised my hand during class. I got decent grades, but my participation was non-existent.

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

She frowned. "Tell me you didn't eat the fish sticks..."

Of course I didn't eat the cafeteria's fish sticks. I was a junior, and that was usually a freshmen mistake. "No, I just need to...go."

"You can go after I give you directions on the horrible project I'm sure the seniors have already warned you about."

I sighed and looked down at the notebook on my desk. Dog-eared and covered in faded band stickers, it was my favorite and housed everything from important notes to original lyrics only Enid had seen. Mrs. Mayer started talking, but I could barely hear her over the loud beating of my heart.

"Volunteering is a must if you want to pass this class."

Thanks to the seniors, we already knew that, but it didn't stop us from groaning collectively. Mrs. Mayer chose to ignore our anguish so she could continue her tirade. "We all play a role in our respective communities which can be active, passive, or negative." She paused for dramatic effect. "I don't like the idea of any students of mine being passive or negative influences in their community; that's why you're required to get one hundred volunteer hours by the end of the year!"

"That's insane!" someone cried. "The seniors said they got sixty last year!"

"Surprise, surprise! It's now one hundred," Mrs. Mayer answered with a wink. "I can't have the seniors stealing all my thunder!"

"How're we supposed to get a hundred hours? That's like...so much!" I heard Jessica whine.

Mrs. Mayer rolled her eyes. "Not that any of you care, but your dear parents who love and cherish you greatly work eighty hours biweekly. I'm giving you entitled millennials a year. A whole year! You can do as little as four hours a week and still hit the requirement. That's less time than a part time job!"

"But let's be real, Mrs. Mayer," a jock named Will stubbornly challenged. "What does volunteering have to do with Economics?"

Mrs. Mayer didn't answer right away. She glared at Will until he started fidgeting then explained, "Economics is broad. Yes, it's about production, consumption, and supply and demand, but it's also about people, and how good deeds actually benefit our country as a whole. When we give up our time to help build something or feed the homeless there is value in that effort. Think about how much we would need to pay for these things to get done if there were no volunteers? It would be money coming out of the federal budget. Money we don't have since we're in debt to China!"

A boy upfront banged his head against his desk.

"Please don't take your excitement out on the desk, Ryan. Especially when you haven't even heard the best part."

In that moment I couldn't decide what deserved more of my hatred: the back of Josh's head or the soon-to-be-announced "best part" of this academic nightmare!

"You're doing it in pairs!" Mrs. Mayer sang.

Everyone in the classroom turned toward their desired partner.

"...That I've already chosen for you! Yay!"

Anarchy erupted all around me as I stared at a frowning Enid. This was bad. This was really bad. I wasn't social enough to handle group projects. In fact, history had shown that anytime I had to work with someone that wasn't Enid, I got bad grades and at least one more person who thought I was weird.

There was no way I could work with someone for an entire year!

Mrs. Mayer snatched a piece of paper off her desk and started pacing back and forth. She was definitely enjoying this. "At the end of the year you and your partner must turn in a report on the importance of volunteering and how it benefits the economy. The report has to be ten pages or more, single-spaced. I want you volunteering together, but if your schedules don't always align, you can get hours on your own. I'll be receiving timecards from the places you're volunteering at so if you're thinking of pulling a fast one- go ahead. Just accept your F graciously when it comes."

I held my breath, praying that somehow me and Enid would end up together.

"Matt Young, you're with Alyssa Wright," Mrs. Mayer said. "Both of you will be volunteering at the Helping Hands soup kitchen downtown."

"But she smells like goat cheese!" Matt whined as poor Alyssa's eyes widened in horror.

"And you smell like you never shower after gym, but you don't hear us complaining do you?" Mrs. Mayer was one of the few teachers that could get away with saying stuff like that. Everyone laughed at Matt's red face as she went down the list. "Jason Schultz and Sayeed Bashir will be volunteering at the Hedgelake retirement home."

It went on and on and on until Mrs. Mayer got to Enid's name. "Enid Concepción Diaz...you and Danny Belman will be at the Hidden Cove women's shelter."

My stomach dropped and when I glanced at Enid she was viciously twirling a strand of red hair around one finger. Danny, on the other hand, looked like he'd just won the lottery. He reached up to adjust his clip-on tie before sending a smitten look Enid's way.

Almost everyone had been paired up. Everyone except..."Jessica Paoli!" Mrs. Mayer boomed. "You're with Misery Hayes. You two will be volunteering at an after-school program to stop bullying at Beechmill Elementary."

My mouth fell open as Jessica turned to glare at me. I was deeply torn. Torn between crying and laughing, because what were the odds that I'd have to talk to little kids about bullying with my bully! The irony was downright appalling.

But it didn't stop there... 

Josh suddenly raised his hand. "What about me?"

Mrs. Mayer squinted at him thoughtfully then consulted the sheet of paper in her hands. "Oh, that's right! Forgive me, Josh. We're going to be a little uneven but..."

I started shaking my head, because I knew what was coming.

"Why don't I stick you with Jessica and Misery?"

"No!" I shot up from my chair so fast my entire desk was in danger of tipping over.

I didn't want to work with Jessica. Working with Jessica would be horrible!

But working with Josh for a whole year would be the emotional equivalent of someone ripping out my fingernails one by one.

Mrs. Mayer seemed confused. "No? No, what?"

"He can't- we can't work together."

"Why not?" Mrs. Mayer crossed her arms while my classmate's eyes darted between me and Josh. I didn't have any superpowers, but I swear I could almost hear them thinking about what happened yesterday in the cafeteria. They thought they knew the whole story and it made me angry, because they had no idea.

My history with Josh went back farther than a little spilled milk.

I wondered how they'd react if I told them Josh threw a water balloon full of hot sauce at my face and tried to break my nose. I wondered how they'd react if I told them he almost killed me.

"Misery," Mrs. Mayer said slowly. "Do you have a problem with Josh?"

"Uh-" I glanced at him, and he stared right back. There was a look of wariness on his face instead of the anger I expected to see.

"I mean, I can't really see how you would since he just transferred," she paused. "Unless I'm missing something..."

I began peeling loose skin down the corner of an index finger, my own breathing rang loudly in my ears. People were starting to whisper and I heard keywords describing what I'd done yesterday. Someone laughed, and God, it sounded like Jessica. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say? The room was starting to spin and I felt sick! I felt so sick.

"Can I go to the bathroom now?" My voice was trembling.

Mrs. Mayer frowned at the subject change. "What?"

"You're...you're done explaining everything right? So I can go? You said I could go."

She fixed me with a piercing stare and crossed her arms.

"Please."

"Fine," she said before letting out a sigh. "But we're going to have a talk after class."

Mrs. Mayer wasn't a pushover. She never let students take advantage of her, so I wondered how pitiful I must've looked for her to agree.

I nodded gratefully, and without grabbing my notebook or backpack, exited the classroom as calmly as possible.

Once I was out in the hallway, I just stood there looking around in a daze. I didn't know where to go. I desperately wanted to be alone, but couldn't stomach the thought of going into the girls' bathroom. The library was always full of kids skipping and I wasn't in the right mindset to fake a convincing illness for the nurse. I could go home again, but I'd left my stuff at my desk and Mrs. Mayer was expecting my return.

That's when I spotted the "Roof Access" sign down the hall. It glowed like a beacon and drew me in like a moth to a flame. I'd heard that not many people went up to the roof, because getting caught either got you suspended or expelled if it wasn't your first time. But it was also common knowledge that the janitor hated his job, and if you really wanted to get up there all you had to do was go up the stairs and look under the bucket with the mop in it for a silver key.

I pushed the heavy door to the stairwell open, hoping the key was actually there. That it wasn't some stupid rumor created to get gullible students suspended. Although that didn't sound so bad right about now. School was quickly becoming my worst nightmare except this time I wouldn't be able to wake up.

I climbed the steps unsteadily, each foot felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Everything in front of me blurred, and I wasn't sure what was wrong with my vision until the tears started sliding down my cheeks.

After what felt like an eternity, I reached the top of the stairs and spotted the bucket and mop in the corner. I was still shaking, trying to muffle my crying so it wouldn't echo in the stairwell, but I managed to lift up the bucket.

A small silver key greeted me.

Sighing in relief, I picked it up and unlocked the door. The stairwell was a bit dark except for the emergency lights, so when I opened the door the sun almost blinded me.

I put the key back on the ground and placed the mop and bucket over it before wedging them between the door. I wanted solitude, but that didn't mean I wanted to get stranded up here.

The rooftop was completely empty. Just slabs of sand-colored concrete as far as the eye could see. A tall chain-link parapet encircled the roof to keep people from going over the edge. It was colder up here and I shivered in my Deftones t-shirt as I made my way to the fence. Once I reached it, I looked down at the ground and took in huge lungfuls of air. I curled my fingers around the metal links, squeezing until they bit into my skin. I felt the pressure, but I barely felt the pain. I barely felt anything.

The tears on my cheeks dried as I looked at the skyline. You could almost see the entire town from here. Beechmill was nothing but neat buildings broken up by roads, vast fields of grass, and trees. I could see the only mall we had, the movie theater, and both my house and Enid's house from here.

It suddenly struck me how everything could look the same yet be so different...

Four days ago, on a Tuesday morning, I woke up as Misery Hayes; a normal 11th grader that attended Beechmill High School and helped her best friend post silly Youtube videos.

Now those silly Youtube videos revolved around my horrible name and I was being forced to date a rockstar so millions of strangers could watch and pass judgement. All of this would be happening as my childhood bully charmed everyone, and my current bully taught little kids bullying was bad while slamming my fingers in lockers behind the scenes.

I can't do this. I can't do any of it.

My breathing started coming out harsher and I pressed my forehead against the fence, not caring if it left marks. Was this my second panic attack in one week?

I heard a noise behind me and turned around slowly, expecting to see an angry teacher.

Instead Josh stood there staring, his stance very much the same as it was all those years ago on the playground.

"About the volunteer hours..." he murmured.

My eyes narrowed in distrust, body immediately going rigid. What was he doing up here? Why had he followed me? That artless, beguiling expression was on his face again, and it rattled my nerves because I couldn't understand it. I couldn't reconcile this seemingly good-natured guy with the kid who tortured me in elementary school.

Josh had always been manipulative so there was a good chance this was all an act, but he seemed so genuine it was almost scary!

Had he taken acting classes back in California?

He suddenly moved closer and I flinched, pressing my back into the metal parapet like I could phase through it if I tried hard enough. "Why do you-" he sighed heavily. "I'm not going to hurt you."

That would certainly be a first.

Josh frowned and came even closer, only stopping when raindrops began to darken his blue Rage Against the Machine t-shirt. We both tilted our faces up as the rain intensified, caught off guard and maybe momentarily swept away by thoughts of the past. The air felt heavy with tension and the only sound that could be heard was the dull roar of the rain in the background. This high up, under the big, gray clouds, it felt like Josh and I were the only people left on Earth.

We were truly alone for the first time in six years.

"I..." my voice was a whisper. "I probably look like you're going to hit me, because you used to hit me. A lot."

Josh's cerulean gaze left the sky and settled on me. "That's true." Instead of sounding smug or hostile...he sounded tired.

"Why'd you follow-?"

"I'm sorry."

I froze. Not sure if I'd heard right.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I was going to apologize yesterday, but then..." he just smiled and shrugged, no doubt envisioning the chocolate milk bath I'd given him.

I couldn't speak. In fact, I'd bet good money my mouth was hanging open. I simply stood there getting drenched, the exquisite pain of the fence digging into my back the only thing keeping me grounded. I hadn't expected this. I hadn't expected this at all. I expected yelling...threats...cruelty. I expected Josh Henderson to pick back up where he left off.

The last thing I expected was an apology.

I continued to stare at him and he continued to stare right back. Wet auburn bangs fell into his eyes and his shirt clung to his torso, outlining sinewy muscle and bone. I sucked at chess, but this was the perfect example of a stalemate, because it looked like neither of us knew what move to make next.

Josh's jaw shifted slightly and I knew he was doing that thing where he pressed his tongue against the gap between his two front teeth. He'd done it a lot when we were kids, usually when he didn't know what to say. "Look...I was probably pretty crappy to you, but," he shrugged again. "You know how kids are."

And that was how five little words shattered the illusion.

"You know how kids are?" I repeated, dumbstruck. A fresh wave of hate and anger hit me, its intensity so strong I had to grip the fence behind me for support. Years of bullying being reduced to "you know how kids are" just didn't sit well with me. Not only was it an excuse, it minimized what I went through, brushing my pain aside like it was nothing. Apparently, in Josh's eyes, the verbal, physical, and mental damage could be wiped away with two sorry's and a smile.

"Let's try and start over," he said.

I burst into hysterical laughter.

Josh's brow furrowed. "OK. Not the reaction I was expecting."

"Sorry, it's because I do know how kids are," I mocked venomously. "You taught me that very well. I know kids try and break your nose, blind you,