Book Club

-SEVENTEEN-

CELIA'S POV

I get home at three in the morning. Alec is sitting on the couch in his sweatpants, watching something on his phone.

"Hey." He says as I untie my boots. I ignore him and walk towards the stairs to my room.

"Celia, wait." He calls after me but I slam the door behind me.

I reach the bottom of the staircase when he opens the door, following me. I sit down on my bed and grab my headphones. Alec sits down beside me and takes them from my hand.

"What the fuck?" I reach for my headphones and he tosses them across the room.

"What is your fucking problem?" I spit.

"Celia." He says my name softly. He isn't at all phased by my tone or choice of language.

I stare back at him instead of responding.

"Can we talk?" He asks.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Celia." He says my name like Cherry does when I say or do something I shouldn't have.

"What?" I groan.

"I'm worried about you." He crosses his legs on my bed.

"Why?" I ask while picking the skin on my hands.

"Why?" He puts his hand on mine and I stop picking. "Because you're clearly not okay." He says.

"I'm fine." I falsely remind him.

"You're not. You never sleep despite taking more pills than you should. I haven't seen you eat in a couple days. Your friend just-is in the hospital. You stopped  going to therapy. Must I go on?" He counts on his fingers.

"Thanks for the reminders."

"Talk to me." He pleads and looks so genuinely concerned that I consider it.

"About what?" I ask.

"What's on your mind?" He asks me.

What's on my mind? I have so much in my head right now I can't process what I'm thinking most of the time. I can't clear my head. I can't.

"I can't do this." I sigh, running my hands through my hair and crosses my arms over my chest.

"I'm sorry." Alec wraps his arms around me.

I start crying. I don't know why or how but I can't stop. He rubs my back gently and I don't have the energy to brush him off. I let him comfort me as I sob uncontrollably.

"Talk to me Lia." He says softly and I calm down.

"I wish," I take a deep breath. "That things could go back to the way they were in September." I say.

"Why?" The way he asks reminds me of my therapy and I hate it.

"Everything was simple then. Everything was okay." I let out a shaky breath.

"Because you had no friends to care about? Because you actually went to therapy like you should?"

His words sting and a tear escapes my eye,  rolling down my cheek.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." He apologizes.

"No. You're right. I should go back to therapy. And I- I didn't know friends would be so hard." I admit.