I Told The Stars About You

Perhaps You Need Yourself?

2 month later.

"Maybe you can talk to him about it." says Naomi while waiting for Andrew to take all the stuff he needs for his next class.

"I know, but things are awkward already," he answered, shoving a book into his bag.

"Well, do you still love him? Do you love him enough to work things out?" Naomi taps the metal door of the locker with her long pink acrylic nails, little cat paws painted on them.

Andrew stays still for a moment, he thinks. He thinks about that night when they had a fight. When Andrew found out that Noami and Dalton had a thing for each other long ago. Long ago when Andrew and Naomi had a little small break of not communicating with each other, that era when their friendship was thinning up.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?!" he yelled at him, his hands up in the air in frustration.

"Because it wasn't important! We were nothing!" said Dalton raising his voice, his hands up in front of his chest in defense. 

"No! You did! You did!" Andrew yelled again, he was walking back and forth in the living room, his mom was not home. He stepped in front of Dalton and pointed his finger at his chest, "Did you kiss her? Touch her?! Anything?!"

Dalton had never seen Andrew like this before, he had seen him angry but not mad; angry; yelling; like this before. He shaked his head no, "We were just talking!.." he went quiet when he remembered that one time he and Naomi kissed at campus then sexted later that afternoon. "...And just one kiss! Literally nothing!"

"Fuck you!" Andrew scoffed, his pointed finger picking at Dalton's skinny chest, him looking down at Andrew, him looking up at him, he was mad, very mad.

"...Okay, you're mad at me. That's fine and fair!"

"I do, I think..." he answers, closing the locker as he lets out a sigh, "he told me that we could take a little break. So, we're on a break." he rests his forehead against the locker, deep down inside him, he imagines the metal door being Dalton's chest.

"And how do you feel now? Do you miss him or anything?" asked Naomi, now her back against the locker next to Andrew's one.

"Of course I do." he admitted, "But maybe a break is good for us, you know? Like, married couples take breaks too, right? That's something that couples do."

"But you're not married, and to me, it looks like the break is killing you." she stared at him up and down, judging his outfit choices, his dark eye circles around his eyes, his messy curly hair, looking like he hasn't brushed it since this morning, and his semi-dirty smell, she knew Andrew was not doing well. Then she remembered how messes up Dalton looked when she went to the town's bar, and his hair was long and greasy, he had even more eye bags, his face was skinnier and so was his body as if he hasn't eaten, and how he acted sitting on the bar next to Ayan, drunk and crying. Made it clear for her, they both weren't doing good. "Killing both of you." she corrected.

"Whatever, I'll deal with it later." Andrew whined. Fixing his bag and starting to walk away, Naomi followed him. "You say that with so much laziness, you won't deal with it, you know that."

"Maybe you're right, maybe I will." he answered.

For Naomi, Andrew had been looking so different from before, almost like he was a cartoon with no color.

For Ayan, Blair, and Cleo, Dalton was truly a worry for them. It looked like dead was inside him, perhaps the plant that grew inside Dalton everytime Andrew talked, maybe it died. Maybe Andrew's words were water for his plant, for his soul to grow. And now it's dead.