My Gay Roommate (L.S)

Thirty

It's been almost three weeks, and I've practically changed my habits slightly. I searched on how to get into some sort of exercise, and majority of the websites said walking or jogging in the morning is a great start.

So I've been dedicated to waking up before everyone else. At six in the morning. I don't know how I'm this motivated to wake up at that time, but somehow it is motivating. I've been taking walks all the way into the woods behind campus, taking a bit of a jog here and there.

Sometimes I'll spot Zayn and Liam on the lacrosse field when they're taking up an early morning training session at just after seven. But I make sure to stay in the shadows, I don't want them seeing me out at this time, they'll judge me on the why why why. I'm not ready to answer that question.

And, okay, I know it's bad, but I've also kind of, sort of, stopped eating as much. I didn't eat much anyway, with all the eyes on me, but this time, I try to rat myself out of it.

"H, dinner's ready!"

"I'm not hungry, I had a huge cafeteria lunch today, I was too hungry to pass it up."

"Cannot believe you ate something so disgusting, I am appalled."

"Says you, Nialler, not being able to season a single thing, you bland piece of shit."

"Ooh, Tommo getting defensive. Young love at its finest."

"Don't listen to him, Curly, he's being a twat."

"So, is that a no to dinner then, H?"

"Na, I'm okay, thanks, Z."

"I'll make sure Zaynie plates you up some for later, in case you get hungry."

"There's really no need, Liam, I'm sure I'll just have a sandwich when I get hungry."

"It'll only go to waste, it'll be in the fridge, if Niall doesn't get to it first."

It's pretty much the same conversation day in, day out.

I listen to my feet pattering against the damp soil, dead leaves curled into themselves to fight against the cold along the floor. The trees give no shelter for the nipping cold, and I'm sure my nose is as red as Rudolph's. There's a few daffodils beginning to bud, long thick green stems shooting up from the ground, saying hi to their fellow oak tree friends. I wonder if plants can communicate with each other, and we just can't understand them.

Today is supposedly a special day. I mean, it's always today where my father's words ring louder than ever.

I wish you had never been born!

Yeah, I can blame today for that one, I guess.

I flip my hood up over my ears, pulling at the grey drawstrings to tighten it a little. The sun creeps up from the horizon, painting the sky in a cold pink and blue, the rays glint through the bottom of the treelines, spotlighting the path before me. My tummy rolls and rumbles, nausea feeling making my heart jump a little, and my head to scream not to be sick.

I come out the treeline, and onto the pavement. My breath comes out in wisps of smoke as the sun hasn't heated up the earth yet. Pretty sure they forecasted snow for tomorrow.

Today is going to be so hard without Dad. It'll be our first time celebrating without him, and I don't know if I have the mental energy to go through with it.