The Hotel - H.S.

Chapter 14

Zoey's POV

I am horrible. I'm fucking horrible. I have avoided Harry and my hotel friends all week. I had been excellent at staying in touch with my family, but my little hotel family? Not so much. There has been a pressure building in my chest as time passes, and I don't understand it. I consider myself pretty in touch with my feelings, my emotions, my horseshit dramatics, but I don't understand this growing sense of sadness and doom that lives near my heart. For the last few days it has appeared and just keeps getting stronger. While there are plenty of plausible explanations, like my terminal health...hiccup (is that what we should call it?), I know that isn't what's causing it. 

Ever since I snuck out of Harrys room before dawn on Tuesday morning, this dreadful  feeling has bloomed and continues to grow. He held me all night, wiped my tears and my nose, and accepted that I gave nothing in return. I had nothing to give. No kisses, no thank you, no explanation. So I had hidden, avoided everyone, ignored notes slid under my hotel room door and knocks and the ringing hotel phone. I didn't stop by Wack or the music room or the front desk. I checked the peep hole cautiously before leaving my room and practically ran when entering or exiting the hotel.

Now it was Friday again, a shockingly warm and bright afternoon in Chicago and physically I was well again after this week's infusions. I just had this aching in my chest that I was hoping to drown out with drugs and alcohol. I sat by myself on the edge pool, sipping my first glass of wine with one foot in the water and my headphones in my ears. 

I was listening to the absolute wrong song considering I wanted to boost my morale, but I couldn't get myself to change it as I stared out at the Chicago skyline that peeked out from behind the safety wall. I sang softly to the lyrics, not even really realizing I was doing it.

"I'm sorry I..I haven't been myself...something's got me down, what it is I can not tell. I won't be terrified with anything I've learned. Fear is just a part of love- WHAT THE FUCK! Paul!"

I bit my tongue in surprise as Paul plopped down on the cement edge of the pool next to me in his uniform, awkwardly crossing his legs in stiff trousers. I yanked out my headphones and turned towards him. He was grinning sheepishly at me.

"Well hi Paul, you mother fucker. You startled me and made me bite my tongue." I scolded him, sticking out my tongue at him to show him my injury. He looked down at my tongue and swallowed slowly, his cheeks flushing pink.

"I'm sorry, I just haven't seen you all week. Wanted to make sure you're hanging in there." He spoke kindly, with a little apprehension. As if he wasn't sure if he had a right to talk to me here, or ask personal questions. I was flooded with regret. Unapproachable with a horrible trait to have, I didn't want to make anyone feel that way. 

"Don't apologize, you're just being a good friend. I've been avoiding everyone all week, like a garbage person." I hung my head down a little as I admitted it. Paul chuckled, and I saw his hand reach for my wine glass before he took a sip. What is with these thirsty front desk staff?

"Garbage person? You absolutely suck at insults. I can tell you don't do it often." He laughed again. "It's one of the reasons you have a group of people here who already care about you a ton in a short period of time. If you're going through something, let us help. When you're ready." He advised, with more confidence than I had ever heard him speak with. I glanced at his face, which was pure kindness, and then looked back out at the horizon for a few moments. I processed what he said, and it seemed so simple. 

"Thank you Paul, you're right." I reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze and kissing the back of it. "You're a wise man, when you're not blushing." I grinned at him, I could feel a little sparkle come back to my eye. "I can't wrap my head around some stuff right now. You're making me realize that maybe I'm just not facing it."