Finding You

Chapter 10

Six Weeks Later

Bright beams of sunlight pierce through the gap between my deep yellow curtains, forcing me away and to roll away from them in bed. Checking my phone, I see it's almost noon. I never sleep this late, at least not intentionally. But for the last almost two months, time seems to move slower by the minute yet also slip right from my fingertips.

Multiple messages wind up on my screen from Henry, Sebastian, and even one from Grams.

Henry: Yo Luna! You missed the early morning coffee run before classes so just checking to make sure you haven't been kidnapped.

Sebastian: Lunch later?

Grams: Morning sweet pea, just telling you I love you, you are so special to me.

Only responding to Grams, I typed, love you too Grams. Avoiding my friends came easy lately in fear of a repeat of two months ago. Forcing myself out of bed, I headed straight for the shower.

Hot water scorched my skin, covering me in splotches of redness while humid steam created a fogged escape. Eucalyptus and lavender filled the small bathroom from my body wash, my skin scrubbed so clean it'll smell like the soap for days. Hot streams of water covered my face, slicking my hair straight down and forcing my eyes shut, as minutes mimicking the feeling of hours waste away.

—

Soft knocking on the door sounds, peaking through the tiny hole on the door I see Henry.

"Hey," I said softly as the door opened.

"You missed morning coffee, again. I texted Delia, she said you were still asleep when she left for class around noon and you missed class, which isn't like you. Is everything okay?"

Is it? No, I don't think so. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just, have a migraine that's all."

"A migraine, so you've been having one for what, the two months? What's really going on Luna?" he says as he folds his arms in concern and puts his body weight to one side as he leans a shoulder against the door frame.

Turning around away from him in shame and exhaustion, a small weary sigh slowly escapes me. My nerves decided to make an unexpected appearance as my brain jumps back and forth over what to say.

"I'm only worried for you Luna, if you're up to talking, I'll always listen."

"I just, haven't been feeling like myself lately. I'm tired, and really stressed out with school work is all," my vision starts to blur with tears, but I force them to stay put. "I don't know Henry. I just don't feel like myself. I don't know what to do."

Suddenly appearing in front of me and seeing my pinkish eyes, his arms wrap around me, holding me tight. "Hey, hey it's okay. I'm here," he says as his shirt drys my tears.

"Why don't we go get some fresh groceries and then cook dinner? I know D has her evening studio class tonight. Just me and you, like old times. I can try to make my mom's mac and cheese."

A shy, long-forgotten smile makes its way on me for the first time in two months.

—

Henry's attempt at his mom's famous mac and cheese wasn't necessarily a failure, but I wouldn't consider it a success like his mom's. It tasted good, cheesy, and gooey, but not quite the same. No one ever does it like his mom. After dinner, we crash on the sofa and turn on a never-ending marathon of Friends. Henry's long legs stretched out onto the coffee table, my head lying at the opposite end of the sofa with my feet draped across his lap.

"Thank you for checking on me. And thank you for tonight, I know it doesn't seem like much but it means a lot to me."

"Of course. I'm always here, no matter what," he says, lightly laying his hand on my ankles.

The late sunset warms the living room, leaving its yellow glow wherever the light touches. Keys click in the lock on the front door, and a certain redhead walks through.

"Mm something smells good," she says.

"Henry made an overload of delicious mac and cheese." Delia immediately grabs a bowl out of the cabinet and fixes a serving of mac and cheese.

"What are we— Friends!" she says excitedly once she quickly sees what we're watching. Deli makes her way over to the sofa and sits behind my legs between Henry and me. Lying down and resting her head on my shoulder she asks, "How was the rest of your day?"

Taking a minute to think about her question, I say smiling, "It ended better than I thought it would."