Chapter 2: Josie

Chapter Two

JOSIE

I know who you are…

I stare at the five words on my Discord. I should ignore them. No one knows who I am. Not here at least. I keep who I am hidden for one reason. One that really freaking sucked, but girls in the gamer world aren’t welcomed. You’ll get harassed two ways. Sexually or people wanting to be cruel. All of it is gross.

All I ever wanted was to play and be treated like everyone else, but as my popularity grew, so did people's curiosity about who I was. They made it their mission to try to find out more about me and put a face to the name. The memories of how creepy it got send a shiver down my spine. I go to tab out of the page, but another message pops up.

Girly

My stomach drops. They know I’m a girl. Whoever it might be.

Two years ago, I started over from scratch. Before, I didn’t hide who I was. While it sucked to lose everything I had worked so hard to establish, the harassment had escalated to an unbearable level. There were a few players that really started to scare me. For peace of mind alone, I deleted everything and started again. Only this time, I kept myself hidden.

Josie girl… don’t you miss me?!?

Everything inside of me stills for a moment before panic sets in, and I clear all the browsers out and exit everything.

“Shit.” I throw my headset onto my desk.

I grab my phone off my desk and pull up his number but stop before I hit dial. I would give anything to hear his voice. For him to say my name one time and put me at ease. The way that only he can. But I don't want him to come running back here. I drop my phone back down on my desk before I actually give in and call Mick. This isn’t the first time that I’ve had to stop myself from calling him. And I’m sure it won’t be the last.

I’m pissed at myself that I’m pissed at Mick. I was the one who pushed him away, but it still burns. I miss him every damn day. But it would have been selfish for me to have wanted him to stay. I couldn’t do that to him. I knew it was his opportunity to get out of here and away from his old life. I wasn’t going to be the reason he didn’t go.

Before he got into fighting and still lived across the hallway from me with his sister in our shitty apartments, he got himself into trouble. Fighting kept him out of jail, but a selfish part of me wanted it to be me that could have made him straighten up.

It's a foolish notion, given that we were both teenagers at the time. He was merely trying to make sure he and his sister had food on the table and a roof over their heads. The two of them were a team. I wish I had that.

One of the reasons Mick and I had bonded so quickly was because of our shared anger with our mothers. He was my person, though I’m not sure he ever knew that. I always tried to play it cool with him and keep him at arm's length.

When so many people who are supposed to love you hurt you, it’s hard to trust someone who could just choose to do so. The concept itself strikes me as absurd. Yet somehow Mick had still managed to make his way past all of my walls and wiggle his way into my heart.

When he was in the city, I felt safer, knowing he was only a call away. I hate that I don’t have that anymore. I feel so alone. I should be used to it, but I’d gotten a glimpse of what it was like not to feel that way, and now the loneliness feels a thousand times worse than it used to.

Anytime I used to call, Mick would answer. It didn’t matter whether it was night or day. I think he saw me as a little sister he was supposed to protect. The same way he looked out for his older sister too. However, I never saw him as a brother.

My phone goes off, making me jump.

“Get it together,” I mutter to myself.

When I check it, I see it’s one of the places I do deliveries for, asking if I can come in for a few hours. I let them know I'll be right in before getting my crap together. Work will take my mind off all this other bullshit.

“I’m headed—” I cut myself off from shouting down the hallway to my dad that I’m headed to work.

A lump forms in my throat. Even after six months, I still struggle to remember his death. He was not the best father, but he had his moments. I shake off the sadness and head out, holding my mace tight in my hand as I take the stairs down and out of the building.

“Hey, Jo,” Carl calls when I enter the back of the Bold Bite sub shop, which is a few blocks from my place.

“Hey.” I nod back, making my way to the rack of orders awaiting pickup. I go through them and decide which route is best.

“You okay?” Carl comes to stand next to me. He’s owned the place for a few decades.

“I’m good.” I force a smile.

“You’re a shit liar.” He gives me a stern stare, but the bell rings.

“No time for small talk today, Carl.” I grab the bags.

“I got a feeling this isn’t small.”

“Seriously, I’m fine.”

“Ha!” Carl barks a laugh. “I’m married, Jo. Fine never means that.”

“I’m peachy?” I brighten my smile. He softens some at that.

“We’ll talk later.”

“Sure,” I lie, because I’m so not doing that. The bell goes off again. Carl huffs but gets back to work.

I take a deep breath of my own, gathering my shit together. I cannot afford to lose it. But then again, I never really could.