Nowhere In Particular // H.S.

Twenty-Five: The Talk

"You don't think he has a problem with alcohol, do you?" Laurel asks over the phone, theorizing explanations for Harry's behavior last night.

"No," I respond quickly, nearly yelling to her as I defend him. "No, no I definitely don't think that's the case. It was just a bad night."

When I woke up this morning I wasn't surprised to see Harry still fast asleep. He continued to invade my side of the bed, his body close to mine, but he was no longer hugging onto me like he was when we first fell asleep. I knew waking him up was a horrible option considering he probably will have one of the worst hangovers of his life, so I threw on a sweatshirt and walked myself out of the room to call Laurel. I know I can't take this on all on my own and I need some guidance from her.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he doesn't," she continues. "Usually the reason people have substance problems are because of things like bad nights."

"Laurel, I know that isn't it," I try to convince her. "This was the first time anything like this has happened and I spend almost every minute of the day with him. I think I would have caught on to something like that by now if that was a problem."

"You're probably right," she agrees. "You obviously know him far better than I do."

"Yeah," I nod. "I'm not exactly sure what to do though. We need to talk about it but I know it isn't that simple either. He just shut me out last night and by the time we were somewhere where it was possible to talk about it, something much different seemed to be on his mind."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," I say nervously, deciding to leave out the details of Harry's forwardness last night.

I've thought a lot about that part of it too, but that isn't my main concern right now as I talk with Laurel. Obviously that wasn't the moment to progress things with us. Not only was Harry extremely wasted but he was clearly searching for something to fill up some of the empty parts inside of him and I couldn't do that in that way. I know this is a place I eventually want to be with him, just not in those circumstances.

"I guess if you really care about him," I hear her voice again. "Then you just need to be there for him. Just listen. You're good at that, Greta. I couldn't be luckier to have you as my best friend and from the sound of it that's what he needs now. Just..."

"What?" I ask as she fades off with the last word, knowing that she has more to say.

"I don't know," she says slowly, like she doesn't want to continue her original thought.

"Laurel," I say her name sternly. "What is it?"

She pauses for a moment, allowing a few seconds of silence on the phone. Then I hear her again speaking quickly.

"You don't have to fix people, Greta," she begins, sounding serious. "I know you love it, whether it's intentional or not... you do. I love that about you because you've saved my ass on more than one occasion and it only proves just how good of a person you are, but don't forget about yourself, yeah? Because I know that's at least part of why you're doing this right now, you want to focus on yourself."

"I don't think he needs to be fixed," I speak quietly, taking her words to heart. "He's just like the rest of us, and there are certain things he struggles with. And last night those things just became too difficult to handle."

"You really like him, don't you?"

"Yeah," I nod, my heart fluttering as I admit it. I've told her multiple times at this point, but it feels more serious saying it now. "I really do."

"Okay," she sighs, sounding relieved. "Just promise me you won't forget about you, okay? You're important and I fucking love you... I don't want you getting too lost."