Bad Things

|Chapter Twenty-One|

hiraeth[welsh]

noun
A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

Before I get a chance to text Nick, I get a text from him. I need your help.

What could he possibly need my help with? I wonder if something has happened to Noah and my anxiety spikes. I can't hear past the blood rushing in my ears and I can't feel my hands. What is wrong with Noah?

You owe me he texts again when I don't answer immediately.

Is everything alright? Is something wrong with Noah? I text back.

He's... fine-physically. However, he's making a questionable decisions and I need your help he tells me.

Whatever you need, as long as it doesn't hurt him

Do you even care?

Texting back and forth like this is stupid, I take my phone and exit the bus.

"What the fuck, Ruffilo?"

"Just making sure you were still in there, I haven't seen you in a while," he says nonchalantly.

"What does that even mean? Can you stop talking in riddles? I didn't leave because I didn't care, I left because I cared too much."

"Either way, Noah has been spiraling since AP wrote a whole article about you juggling two guys just because you know them. I offered to hack the magazine and get it taken down, but it would have went back up. I think deep down he knows you aren't sleeping with Andy, but it fucked him up. He met this groupie and she paid him a little too much attention at the time all of this was going on."

"What are you saying, Nick? Did he move on?" Tears prick my eyes as I listen to him go on.

"I thought it was just going to be a fling, or I would have stopped it before it started. She's imbedded herself into his life, like a fucking leech, and he's completely blind to it."

"So, what, you just called to rub it in?" the tears are falling in earnest as I yell angrily into the phone.

"No, drama queen, I called because I want my best friend back and he hasn't been the same since you left. Haven't you been gone long enough, Olivia?"

"I- I don't know, Nick," I admit.

"Jesus Christ, Olivia, this isn't that hard. Do you love him?"

"Of course," I sob.

"So what are you doing?!" he shouts into the phone, the deep bass of his voice vibrates against my ear.

"It doesn't matter now, does it? You just said he's already moved on."

"That's why I need your help."

"What can I do?"

"You are going to be my date to the album release party," he says, the anger in his voice has faded.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No, nothing will make him more jealous than seeing you on a date with me."

"I'm not going to break up his relationship. That's so messy, Nick."

"You aren't doing anything but reminding him that you are still around," I can hear rustling on his side of the phone.

"And then what, I don't even know where I'm going to live when this is over. I'm not going to uproot his life when I can't even promise to stay." This conversation has gone on too long and I sit down on the curb in front of the bus.