┌────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──────┐
help•ful
/ˈhelpfəl/
1. giving or ready to give help
└────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──────┘
we sat down on the couch and began working, we worked on the project for an hour before my phone starts blowing up with texts and calls.
i silence it and Louis looks at me,
"why don't you check your phone?" he asks.
"i don't need to," i say.
"what if it's important," he says.
damn he's right, i pick up the phone.
texts from my mother, wondering what the hell happened to my mirror.
i call her, and she picks up, mad.
"what the hell happened?" she asks.
"it fell before i left the house," i say standing up.
she takes a sharp inhale, "ok, that makes sense, i'll get someone to clean it up. don't want you cutting yourself." she says.
"ok, i have to go now." i say.
"ok, bye," she says.
i hang up the phone and sit back down on the couch, i pick up my computer and continue working.
"so, what was it about?" he asks.
"what?" i ask playing dumb.
"the phone call," he says.
"oh, she say the mess in the sink and was wondering what happened." i lie.
"oh," he says. "so you told me the truth,"
"why wouldn't i, don't have a reason not to trust you." i say.
"you lied about the pills," he says.
i stop what i'm doing, "what?" i ask.
"i looked up the name when i got home," he says. "you shouldn't be taking them,"
"that's not your decision to make," i say.
"stop taking the pills," he says.
"you don't tell me what to do," i say.
"i do when you're putting your life at risk," he says. "and i know damn well that you did not just cut your hand with a glass."
"you stay out of my life Partridge," i say packing my stuff up. "mind your own business,"
"or what?" he says. "what are you doing to do?"
"stay out of my life, and i stay out of yours." i seethe before leaving.
•••
when i get home my mom sees my hand immediately,
"what the hell happened?" she asks.
"oh, i fell onto pavement today and my hand scraped." i lie.
"who wrapped it up like this?" she asks.
"Louis," i say. "i scraped it before i went into his house,"
she makes a look, "what?" i say.
"nothing," she says.
"mom what is it?" i say getting slightly annoyed.
"it was just nice of him to do that for you," she says.
"yeah, i guess," i say shrugging.
we stare at each other for a minute before she clears her throat, "dinner will be ready in an hour," she says.
"ok," i say walking up the stairs.
i get up to my room and see that the mirror was gone, my mom probably got someone to take it.
i unpacked my things and looked at my phone, i picked it up and a few missed calls. from, you guessed it, Louis.
he had also written a text,
i'm sorry,
he said.
i ignored the text and put my phone down,
read 5:23 pm,
i put the phone on charge and laid on my bed waiting for my mom finish cooking, she usually hates when i try to help, says i'm doing it all wrong.
my dad always used to let me help though,
"there are no mistakes in cooking," he used to say.
i only then realized, how much i missed him, i wasn't angry at him, i was just sad.
the man that helped me grow up when my mother wasn't there, the one who told me if i ever got a boyfriend or girlfriend he would make sure they were right for me.
i promised i would never date anyone, even if i wanted to.
and i kept my promise,
i had never dated anyone before,
i had kissed people, and slept with someone, but i never dated anyone.
i felt tears roll down my cheeks, i turned my head to the pills on my nightstand.
i grabbed them and stood up, i walked over to the bathroom and dumped them into the toilet. flushing it and watching them disappear, i threw the bottle in the trash and walked back to my bed.
i picked up my phone,
i'm sorry,
it's okay,
i typed back,
:)
he responded,
i put my phone down again,
i was terrified,
