On Monday, I was back to square one. I wasn't any better off than what I was the first day of school and I only had a month left of freshman year.
But the thing that bothered me the most was that looking back on it I couldn't find a good reason for why I broke up with Zayn. At the time I thought u had done it because I didn't love him anymore but now seeing him alone made me want to take it all back. The fact that his arms might never hold me or his lips might never kiss me again killed me.
It had gotten to the point where sometimes I had to check in the mirror to make sure I was still there.
At school, I would catch Zayn looking at me with that same hurt expression. We had matching dark circles beneath our eyes from lack of sleep and tended to keep our headphones in throughout the entire day.
By the end of the week, I was so depressed that I pretended to be sick just so that my mom would pick me up and take me home.
"Nicole I have to go back to work but there's soup on the stove. Feel better." The moment I heard her car pull out of the driveway I sprung up from my bed.
I peered out of the garage just to make sure that she was far down the road with no intention of turning around. I scurried out of the house as sneakily as possible and ran to Harry's place.
Harry hadn't been at school either so I was guessing that he was home sick too. I wasn't sure why I wanted to see him. I just thought it would make me feel less empty. As if being with him would heal me.
A puffy eyed Harry opened the door and I laughed.
"You look awful," I told him.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice raspy.
What did I want? Why had I come here? I realized that all I was doing was taking advantage of someone who loved me for my own selfish reasons. I should've been making things right with Zayn, not running away from my problems. I immediately felt guilty.
"Sorry I don't actually know what I'm doing."
"Oh it's okay come in." He beckoned me with the hand that wasn't holding a bunch of tissues.
He made a beeline for the couch and I just stood there awkwardly in the middle of the living room.
Harry's hair was sweaty from being feverish and pieces of it were plastered to his face. He began coughing so hard that it scared me. He stared at me when he had finally stopped, too tired and weak to really say anything.
"Hold on," I told him.
I came back from the kitchen a few minutes later with two cups of freshly made tea only to find that he had fallen asleep. He was trembling and beads of sweat had formed on his forehead.
"Here," I whispered sitting on the floor in front of the couch, nudging him slightly. He sat up slowly, taking the steaming cup of tea into his hands.
I went into the bathroom to wet a cloth with cold water for his fever.
Why was I taking care of him? I didn't owe him anything. Nonetheless I laid it across his forehead once he was finished with the drink and he seemed to calm down.
We spent the rest of the afternoon watching old Disney movies while I did everything I could to make Harry more comfortable. He slept most of the time but it felt nice to have someone so close to me again, despite the fact that he nearly killed both me and Zayn.
"Thank you," Harry whispered when I got up to leave.
I bent over to kiss him on the cheek. His face was still burning and even though I shouldn't have I couldn't help but feel bad for leaving him like this.
"Goodbye Harry."
I got home just before my mom did, giving me just enough time to crawl under the covers and act like I had been sleeping.
I was even more distraught than I was earlier. I ran my fingers through my hair, tempted to rip it out. I felt like screaming as loud as I could. How could it be so silent in the room and so loud in my head?
