Can't Get Enough

1.

1.

People always say I push myself too much.

My answer? It's passion, not pain.

But lately I'm beginning to think they're right. I always thought high school was meant to be enjoyed, but now that I'm well into my junior year, I'm starting to think that this whole deal had a "but wait, there's more!" Offer no one bothered to tell us about. Being number one in the class is hard, and all these AP classes give me a headache, but I need to go to college and make my mom proud of me. But it's so overwhelming.

Life was easier when I had Harry by my side. You know that one person who you can't stand the fact that you think about them all the damn time? Trust me, I'd much rather be thinking about sedimentary rocks and how some guy hit another guy in the head with his cane in the 1800's, but all I can seem to wrap my brain around is Harry. And Harry. And Harry. Fourteen was three years ago, and it was a long three years ago. And I'm supposed to be find by now, that's how it worked in the movies. Or at least Legally Blonde. Elle focused on her studies and wound up totally kicking ass and made Warner pay. So why am I not fine at all if it's long gone and there's nothing else I can do?

Sometimes all I want is to feel him against me, his warm heart and smile engulfing me in a warm embrace.

But he chose the druggie life over the educated life, a path I refuse to go down. Sometimes when things get really tough, though, and I want to calm down, I miss him terribly. He would always encourage me to be carefree and remind me countless times,

"L, let go."

And as I get dressed for another day at school, my eyes drift to a picture frame on my neatly organized desk. A look of shock on my face. Harry with flowers in his lap, sitting on my driveway next to a chalk drawing of a single word.

"Homecoming?"

I smiled, reminiscing. He looked so happy. And clean. Nowadays he just looked happy.

And stoned.

--

I usually sit by myself at lunch. My best friend, Michelle, spent lunch with her boyfriend on account of not having classes with him. I could sit with him or any of my other school friends, but their conversations are so dull and don't interest me. Plus I'd much rather get ahead on homework. It's a great feeling. I remind myself of this countless times as I bite into my sandwich and mull over my APUS History notes. I got lost in the American Revolution when I caught a strong odor of marijuana and Drakkar Noir. I half expected to look up and see the cute guy from Breaking Bad, but alas. I was greeted by familiar green eyes that were slowly become unknown. They still twinkled under the terrible lighting of the school. I couldn't help but twirl my boring blonde hair around my finger-it was something I did when he got nervous. And when he spoke, my knees trembled slightly.

Of course, I would never let him know that he did this to me.

"Been a while, Bookie." Bookie? What? What a horrendous nickname. His friends must be watching. I decided not to look and test my theory. His smile said hello but his eyes said something else I couldn't put my finger on. So I took the ill-thought out bait and he sat down across from me.

"Honestly. But I'm literally swamped in homework and-"

"I need you." His abruptness caught me by surprise and intrigued me. Why would the king of the school suddenly want my approval on anything? My silence urged him to move on. This has suddenly become very awkward and I want out of this situation. Now. 

"I'm trying to quit, I am. But it's just so hard. My friends--something's not right. Something is gonna happen very soon, I can tell, and it's gonna change forever. Sorry for being so 7th Heaven, but it's true. And you're the only person I can think of who won't judge me," he continued. I glanced over at the "friends" he was talking about. Pretty rich prepsters with nothing but a bowl and some bud. I rolled my eyes and I didn't have to look to know that his were flaring at my gesture.

"You should've thought about that before you left me stranded two hours away because you heard Louis Tomlinson scored mollie." I was bitter, so my comebacks were very lame and I wish I was witty. Freshman year, I decided I had enough of Harry's endless games and addiction. After that fiasco, I never spoke to him again. Until now. I don't think he ever realized that I never recovered from that. He was a lost cause. And yet, I couldn't help but lose my mind whenever he was around. I noticed he went quiet. 

"I never really did apologize...and I am sorry. It wasn't even the real stuff...but I am trying to change." I snapped my history book shut.

"You're pathetic."

"Dammit, Leila, would you just listen to me?!" He slammed his fist on the table and his voice rose slightly.

"I'll listen to you once you show me you're serious. Don't ask for my help reeking of pot." He furiously rose.

"I thought you of all people wouldn't judge me."

The lunch bell rang, and I got up and walked away, silently cheering myself on. Hooray for me being so independent and fierce.

--

I was battling my shoulder angels all the way to the parking lot after school. The angel told me to reach out and help an old friend, and the devil said who needs him? Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn't notice one of Harry's drugged up friends, Zayn, run to me. At least I think the one with the eyebrows is Zayn. 

"You're Harry's nerd friend right?" I rolled my eyes and nodded, sparing the argument.

"You're smart right?" He was out of breath and deeply worried, I hurriedly nodded again, wanting him to go away.

"We'll good, because, Harry man, I don't know, we skipped our last class, we were smoking, and he found some pills, and then, he just..."

"What happened to Harry?" I felt my chest clench up.

"I think he overdosed."