Strawberry Ice cream

Chapter 26

Sunday has been and gone, it was a pretty chilled day besides the breakdowns I began to have. I cried for an hour at one point over watching The Notebook, mostly because they die at the end.

I avoided the antidepressants as best as possible, Harry forced me at one point, pinning me to the ground and popping a pill in my mouth, wouldn't let go of my jaw until I swallowed. I just hate the symptoms they've been giving me. Sure, they somewhat help but at the moment I still feel the urge to cut, no appetite and keep getting anxiety attacks despite taking them.

It's Monday and after a lot of debate with Harry and even Anne, I'm at college. I couldn't stand being at Harry's with just Anne and I there. From the talk she tried to have with me Saturday, I feel like things have turned awkward between us if we stayed together alone. 

So I'm walking with Harry, hand in hand, Zayn beside us to his art class. Yes, I do have media now but Harry convinced the college's receptionist that I stay with him today because of the sensitive topic of my mother's death. She much obliged but on the conditions that I email my teachers to send my work over so I can do it in the classes with Harry. 

"I've decided to do the party Saturday. Course I need to talk to the other lads about it but wanted to let you know," Zayn announces whilst he opens the door to the courtyard to go into the art block. 

"Sounds good, we'll go, right babe?" Harry asks, squeezing my hand slightly to get my attention. 

I simply nod. "Sure."  

I hesitantly shuffle into the room, settling myself down in the chair beside Harry. Emma gives me a glare but keeps her mouth tightly shut, probably knowing the reason I've crashed her class yet again. She takes the register and Zayn leaves to spray paint in the hallway. The soft breeze from outside climbing through the open door he's opened from the outside in, brushes its way into the class and tickles my legs. 

I grab my phone and bring up my student email, finding an email from media to give me my tasks to complete. 

 I take out my notebook and Harry taps me on the arm. I look over to him and he holds out the taco pen. I give him a little smile and gently take it out of his grasp, using my finger to bring the taco back on its spring and making it boing back into place. 

I begin reading the task and my mind, though how hard I try, keeps going back to the situation happening around me; my mum dead, my family mad at me, my mum dead. 

Harry nudges into me, a paint brush in hand, hovering slightly over the jar of water. "Everything okay love?" He asks, resting his head on my shoulder. 

I bury my nose into his hair, deeply inhaling in his shampoo- fruity. "I can't stop my mind from wandering," I admit, tapping the pen against the page. 

He rubs my arm. "It'll get better. Have you had your meds today?" He asks, we were running late this morning hence he didn't stare me down. 

I look away from him, staring at the blank paper. I can't lie to him. I simply shrug, drawing patterns on the side of the margin. 

His sigh is like thunder in the quiet room. "Lou, you can't get better unless you keep up with your meds. It'll start working better once your body gets used to them."

I look up at him with slight glassy eyes. "'M sorry, baby," I whisper, bottom lip wobbling. 

He kisses my wobbly lips and then my nose. "Stop your crying Sweetcheeks, there's no need for it. There's no need to be sorry. I'm keeping a close eye on you babe, it's my job as your boyfriend and best friend."

"Zayn's my best friend," I tease and he slaps me playfully on the chest. 

"You son of a bitch." He laughs, shaking his head and begins painting more swatches.