Lost And More Importantly, Loved

Chapter 3

Axel

"I'm really worried about her." Emily voices as we watch Terry and Stella slowly get up from the bench outside and make their way back toward us.

"Yeah, she's giving us every reason to be." Joey muttered under his breath.

Terry motions Stella toward us.

"She's a bit tipsy, I suggest it's time for her to go home." Terry advises.

"But she came with her car, she can't drive in this state." Emily says stating the obvious.

Emilys emerald eyes struck with a gold thunder that flickered when she got concerned. Joeys affection was always voiced and often shown but at first glance, he'd initially seem unapproachable.
Terry has a natural charm and has a way with words. Stella however, is a pure mixture of all of our traits. I'm not sure if whether she realizes it, even when she's hugely conflicted by misfortunes.

"Give me her keys. I'll drive her home." I say, putting my hand out to Stella.

Stella stumbles sloppily in my arms as we all agree to call it a night. We make our way to her car and I carefully place her in the passenger seat.

We all had one thing in common when it came to Stella, none of us managed to get through to her since her last heartbreak. It all happened so unexpectedly that day - I had happen to see her that day in the rain without the slightest care in the world. Her face mirrored how her heart broke to pieces with every step forward. I couldn't bare walking up to her, a part of me told me she needed to go through that moment on her own.

She just came up to us a few days later, telling us casually that Callum and her had broken up. Stella is the embodiment of wearing her heart on her sleeve so it was the first we heard her sound so vague. Speaking to us about things was always her catharsis but this time around, she didn't want any of us to untangle the complexity of her emotions. I don't know about the others, but it was rather bothersome to me.

And now, with a hint of intoxication in her system, she looks like a dready husk of a person, still so lost and unable to find herself outside of drowning in her sorrows.

Stella rested her body against the door of the car and with every turn her head knocked against the window but it didn't seem like it bothered her. Although it did look like it was going to hurt once the alcohol wears off.

The road ahead us is clear and I see the traffic light turning red, I slow down and then glance at Stella. Her eyes were closed, eyelashes long and her eyeliner gone terribly wrong.

"You know, with your eyes close, your eyeliner looks even more horrible." I say, teasingly, hoping it would put a end to all the drunken silence.

Stella's eyes open like she's realizing it and quickly covers her face with her hands.

I let out a laugh.

"What are you doing? I've already seen it. We all have."

"I tried washing it off! All it did was make the area around my eyes even darker. Now that I think of it, people must've thought I'm crazy! This is all of your fault, punishing your zombie-looking friend with a night to a bar." Stella says, crossing her arms.

"We all thought getting out would do you some good. And hey, you're just rebeling against cosmetic norms. Who knows? It might just become a trend."

"More like a trend of embrassement." She fires back.

"Which is solely originated by you, yes. So take some pride in it." I give a playful wink.

"Your random splurges of optimism makes me want to puke."

I smile, knowing that these type of lines are said when she's being herself. But I couldn't help myself - to turn such a laughable conversation into a deep one.

"But seriously, what's up? You never get this drunk, especially if you know you have to drive back home yourself."

With that said, she fell silent for a moment and contemplated on her answer.

"I drank because I want to forget. It's as simple as that." She said softly, looking in the rear view. I'm not sure why, since there was nobody in the back seat.
I didn't want to question her response because it's been awhile since I've heard the sincerity in every word of hers when it came to how she felt.

It was good that she was talking about it to some degree. Even though it wasn't much, I'd take it. It was enough for me. Perhaps it was some sort of start.

We rock up at her driveway and I help her get out. As she opens her front door, she opens it wide enough to let herself in.

"Thanks for driving me home." She says quickly, trying to hold the door as closed as possible.

"Yeah... Anytime." I say confused.

Is she trying to hide something behind the door?

I turn around and take a stroll down the road as I just lived in the neighborhood. Why was she suddenly so closed off just as soon as she stepped into her home? It was odd.

I finally arrive at home.

This house - that should be my home, my safe haven and an escape to all the nonsense in the world, felt like the complete opposite. Everytime I entered, it was like stepping into a whirlwind of constant arguing. Sometimes I wondered if the neighbors had overheard or maybe even got alittle worried. Maybe they should be.

I go straight up to my room and swiftly passes by every shooting word my parents fired at one another. My avoidance was my shield, which carried me to my room safely and then disapated as soon as I slammed my door. I let myself crumble, letting out a big sigh.

I knew that feeling way too well. The one Stella had spoken about in the car.

I was forced into a childhood seeing my parents binded, not by love, but by some sort of agreement they shook hands on for the sake of their children.

I squeeze my pillow as the thought engulfs my mind.

"We all have things we wish we'd forgot Stella, trust me." I quietly murmur.