Misadventure

6

Louis' POV

When Harry wasn't at school on Monday, I didn't think much of it. The recital let out fairly late. I just assumed he was at home resting or something.

When he wasn't at school Tuesday morning, I dropped him a text to check in. Maybe he was poorly with a bug? By Tuesday evening when he still hadn't answered my text, I started to worry.

Whenever we'd be hanging out together, he'd check his phone frequently. I didn't understand the full extent of his mum's addiction, because it wasn't an easy subject to broach, but I did know it caused him a great deal of anxiety. He liked to keep his phone on hand incase she had some sort of an emergency and needed to contact him. It was hard for me to imagine him not checking his phone all day, nor could I imagine him reading my text and ignoring it.

Wednesday rolled around and still no text back, still no sign of him. That afternoon in music class, Mrs. Jamison approached me. "It's a shame about Harry. I hope he's doing okay. If you still need the community service hours, I can try to find someone else for you to give piano lessons to."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

When Mrs. Jamison didn't write me a detention slip for cursing, I immediately sensed something was very wrong.

"Oh. I assumed he would have told you. He's moved back to Manchester." Her eyes filled with sympathy. "His mother passed away this weekend."

I was almost certain I was going to faint, but Mrs. Jamison put her hand on my shoulder to steady me. "I'm sorry, Louis. I know you two were very close friends."

As the news sank in, so did an overwhelming sense of dread. I desperately needed to make sure Harry was okay, but I already knew he wasn't, because how could he be, and he was currently a five hour drive away, and there was no way in hell my mother would let me go see him, and he wouldn't answer my texts, and-

"Louis, sweetheart? You look like you could use a hug right now."

Mrs. Jamison opened her arms and I shakily embraced her. She was warm and welcoming, and smelled like the perfume cards that always came in fancy catalogs. It brought tears to my eyes, because this was what being comforted by a mother was supposed to feel like. I hadn't experienced the sensation in so long, I'd nearly forgotten it completely.

****

Asking for a ride to Manchester was a mistake.

I hadn't even been home five minutes, and a terrible fight had already broken out. It was incredibly stupid of me to even bring it up. What did I think was going to happen? Even if by some miracle she'd said yes, I didn't have his address, and he still wouldn't answer his phone.

"You're not to contact that boy again. Don't make me tell you again."

"That's not fair! I can't just never talk to him again without an explanation!"

"I've had it up to here with your attitude lately!" She was the angriest I'd seen her in a long time. "I don't think you understand how this works, I'm the parent! You're the child!"

"His mother just fucking died!"

"Language, Louis! This is a perfect example of the concerning behavior you've been exhibiting ever since you started hanging around Harry. I miss my sweet boy who took piano seriously, who didn't swear, who didn't sneak around lying to me-"