Polite//l.s

Thirty Two

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Louis

I got my plane ticket to Indiana in the mail last week, so I expected that I was still going on the trip. I had taken the entire month off anyways, having decided that I was going to be a complete drama queen about everything that had happened.

Zayn had told me that I shouldn't go, but he didn't understand.

I needed Harry. I needed to talk to him, hear his voice. Fuck, I just need to look at him.

I haven't spoken to him in two weeks, but I've spoken to Gemma.

According to her, his birthday is tomorrow. And also he's a fucking mess.

She told me that he hasn't really done anything the last week, tells me that he's just been moping around in his room. I remember her saying that their parents hardly even noticed how destroyed Harry's been lately. She also regretfully admitted that she most likely wouldn't have noticed before she got to know him either. He's just very shut off lately from what I hear.

I'm the complete opposite. I've been whining to Zayn about it ever since it happened.

I did end up walking halfway back to the coffee shop from Harry's house before calling a cab to take me to the bookstore Zayn was at. Well I had hoped he was still there.

Now Zayn's at work and I'm standing by the door with my suitcase at my feet while I wait for my cab to come pick me up.

I could feel a little bit of uneasiness creeping through my limbs, originating in my stomach.

What if Harry really didn't want to see me? What if he thought that teacher guy was better than me? Or had a bigger dick?

I already know that as soon as I see Harry I'm going to be an emotional wreck again. I can't even look at his contact in my phone without bursting into tears.

Zayn literally had to take my phone away from me because Harry was trying to call and it sent me into a borderline panic attack.

I mentally prepared myself for the two weeks ahead of me, hopefully that will be enough time to sort things out with Harry and for him to get off of whatever drug his father's given him.

The cab driver honked at me, pulling me out of my thoughts as I hastily yanked my bag behind me and forced myself in the car before I could chicken out.

Whatever happened to 'hey Z! Let's just live on the edge all the time! No cares in the world!'

Okay, I may have been high when I made that suggestion; but still. Where did the time go?

"Airport please," I sighed and leaned back in my seat. Thankfully this town was fucking monstrous and I lived in the middle kind of housing district area thing.

Wow. Great sentence.

Wow. Great mental criticism.

I just need to calm down.

I didn't have the time to debate whether or not I should call Harry or Gemma or someone because I had been so caught up in my thoughts, I hardly realized when the driver stopped and waited for money. Bastard left the meter running while I sat in the unmoving car and just thought.

"Fuck," I muttered to myself as I handed him the money and got out, pulling my bag behind me. I only had one, so I kept it in the seat with me.