Misadventure

26

Louis' POV

My mother had called last night, and for once I'd answered. That had to say something about just how miserably alone I was feeling.

She'd asked me to come home for the brief "autumn break", something I'd been unaware even existed, as I still hadn't been showing up to class. It didn't surprise me that my mother knew when it was. Knowing her, she probably had the university calendar printed out and hanging on the fridge.

I was an adult. She could no longer control my schedule, so tracking it would be the next best thing.

It was dark when I arrived at the house back in Eastbourne. When I opened the door to my old bedroom, I had never felt more detached from myself.

It looked the same as it always had for the most part.

Same walls decorated with reminders of my goals and dreams. Framed photos from past recitals. My acceptance letter into the university's music program. A mini whiteboard with my piano practice schedule I used to follow like my life depended on it.

God, I'd wanted it so bad back then. How did I go from feeling so excited about life to... this? To feeling this blank? This empty?

The wooden floor was cold against my bare feet as I moved to stash my backpack under my bed. Before leaving for university I had packed it full of sheet music, textbooks, and stationary.

Now I had brought the same backpack home full of vodka and pills.

I scrubbed my hand over my tired, dry eyes, flopping down on the bed.

It wasn't like I was perfect back then. Senior year, I'd still been drinking and doing whatever drugs I could get my hands on. But at least I'd felt a little bit of hope for the future.

Going to university was supposed to fix me. Now, I was at an all time low, and it seemed like I was declining by the day.

I got under the covers and pulled them up over my eyes, too exhausted to bother getting up and turning the light off. I would need to take drugs at some point, but felt really weird about doing so with my family still awake. My senior year, I'd avoided getting high at the house as much as possible, usually doing so at Will's instead.

Right now, I would sleep. I was almost certain I would wake up later in the middle of the night due to the withdrawals. By then my family would be asleep and I would do what I needed to do.

The memories of sleeping in this bed with Harry junior year were so visceral and vivid, I was tempted to go sleep on the couch. But again, my family was still awake. Someone would probably ask me why I wasn't in my own bed. Then I wouldn't know what to say, because talking about our feelings wasn't something we did in this house.

And I especially couldn't talk about Harry.

I squeezed my eyes shut and rolled over on my side, but I still couldn't fall asleep. He was all I could think about. About a week had passed since that dreadful encounter in the campus garden. We hadn't spoken since, and I honestly had no idea what to do.

I didn't reach out to him after that. What right did I have? I'd already hurt him enough as it was, and I hated myself for it every second of every day. I was waiting for him to reach out for me, but I was starting to worry he never would.

Maybe it was for the best. He didn't need any more people in his life disappointing him, and a disappointment was the only thing I knew how to be anymore.

****

"Thank you for doing this, Louis. It means a lot to the kids. It means a lot to me too."

"Anytime."

It was a beautiful sunny day, and about as warm as it could be mid October. The whole family was out in garden. My father was teaching the twins to ride their new bikes, while the older girls acted as spotters.

I sat at the old wooden picnic table with my mother. It was covered in dried leaves, sticks, and debris. I brushed it off with the sleeve of my jumper, so we'd have a clear surface to set our steaming mugs of tea.

"They miss you when you don't visit." Her eyes fixed themselves on mine in an almost accusatory fashion. It made my stomach twist almost painfully. I squirmed under her intense gaze.

She continued, "It's been, what? Almost two months since we saw you last."

I averted my eyes, staring down at my hands, which were folded in my lap. My skin was dry and cracked, and I picked at a loose bit of it along the side of my thumbnail. "I've been busy."

"I worry, you know. You look tired. Thin."

"I think stress has been wrecking my appetite. You know, from schoolwork."

She nodded with an unreadable expression. "I'm proud of you for working so hard in your classes, but make sure you're taking care of yourself too. Okay?"

"Okay." The word felt like a lie passing through my lips, and for some reason stupid reason, I was sure I was about to start crying.

"Louis? What's the matter? What has gotten into you?"

I rose from the picnic table, standing so fast my knees knocked against the wooden underside of it. "Nothing." I gave a weary smile. "I'm just tired. I'm going inside. Gonna lie down for a bit."

She stared at me for a moment, mouth slightly parted in surprise at the turn this conversation had taken. Finally she shook her head, as though to regain her own composure. "That's fine. Rest. Will you be joining us for dinner later?"

It seemed like an odd question to me at first, considering I always ate dinner with the family whenever I was home, but then I was hit by the startling realization that yesterday I hadn't. I'd somehow slept straight through it.

Last night was a bit of a blur after arriving at the house and settling into my room. After waking back up around midnight, I'd mixed a cocktail of drugs together, as I was the nearing the end of my supply.

I didn't have enough of any single substance left to get me truly high, and I didn't have any connections here in Eastbourne who I could meet up with. So I rationed what I had left, saving aside just enough to get me through tonight, then washed it down with a bottle of Smirnoff I'd picked up from the petrol station on the drive down.

"What's for dinner?" I asked, hoping to avert the attention away from my current emotional turmoil. I stood with my head hung and my eyes fixed on my Vans clad feet on the grass, still not convinced I wouldn't burst into tears.

I hated lying to my family, almost as much as I hated lying to Harry. In general, I hated sneaking around and hiding things. I knew it was despicable, but did it anyways. It felt more despicable to tell the truth and let everyone feel devastated.

"I'll cook anything you want, as long as you eat it," Mum said earnestly. "You're so thin, Boobear."

"I'm not that thin."

She sighed, not saying anything else.

"I'm going to lay down," I restated. I turned my back on her and heading for the door.

"Louis! Come ride bikes with us!" Phoebe called as I climbed the steps of the porch.

"Not right now, poppet. I'm tired from the trip down here."

She frowned, and it send a wave of guilt through my stomach. "We never see you anymore. You never play with us."

"I know. I'm really sorry." I was in serious danger of crying now, and I hurried inside. The second I was in my room with the door shut, I let the tears fall, laying face-down with my head buried in my pillow.