Lock the Doors - Mattdock

Chapter Eight - You Watch Too Many Horror Movies

After about thirty minutes of talking to Lloyd, he said he had to go home soon because one of his friends was coming over.

He's so fucking social, Jesus Christ. How can he do that?

"What's wrong?" he asked, glancing at me.

"Nothing."

"How many times have said that to someone, and they believed it?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully.

"You look sad. Are you okay?"

"Why are you acting like a fucking therapist?" I asked.

"I'm sorry Nick, I'm just worried about you."

"I am fine," I said slowly.

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes, Lloyd, I am. Please just go hang out with your friend."

"You can't just push people away when they're trying to help yo—"

"How is interrogating me helping?" I asked.

"I'm sorry! I'm just worried about you."

"Yeah, when you shouldn't be."

"Well, excuse me for worrying about my best friend's mental health!"

Jesus, I'm an asshole. "I-I'm sorry, Lloyd. I'm just stressed."

"About what?"

"Just school starting."

"Are you sure?"

"What other reason would I be stressed?"

"I don't know. You just keep to yourself a lot, and—"

"You're worried, I know."

"Hey, do you want to hang out with me and Johnny?" he asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"No," I said quickly.

He frowned. "Why not? Is it because you think that my friends hate you?"

I didn't answer. He got the point.

He sighed. Great. Now he's annoyed at me.

"None of my friends hate you, Nick."

Are you sure about that?

"Okay," I said, not believing him. His friends hate me, I can just tell.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Nope."

"Why not? I'm serious, Nick, they don't hate you."

"Please just go and hang out with Johnny."

He sighed. "Fine," he said, getting up and walking away.

Once he was gone from my view, I groaned. Why am I such a douchebag to nice people? Lloyd doesn't deserve to get yelled at. I don't even know why he's still friends with me. I seriously don't get why he hasn't told me that I'm a selfish piece of shit. He's probably thought of it, though.

He's better off without me. Hell, everyone is. All I do is fuck things up.

I got up from the tree and started walking back home.

Seriously though, why am I like this? I take my problems out on the wrong people. I'm fucked up.

When I got to the house, I opened the door, slipped off my shoes, and walked into my room.

I picked up my phone and looked at the time. 12:34. That's why I'm so hungry. I went to the kitchen and made a bowl of cereal. That'll at least fill me up.

After I was done with the cereal, I put the bowl in the sink and turned around. I nearly yelled in surprise because my mom was standing there.

"Jeez, Mom, you scared me."

She laughed. "You watch too many horror movies."

I shrugged. I can't exactly argue with that.

"Oh, by the way, do you know what happened to the scale that was in the bathroom?"

"Why?"

"Because it wasn't in the bathroom, and your dad hardly touches it. I haven't moved it, I don't think. Did you move it?"

I swallowed. "Yeah. I moved it to the basement bathroom a couple months ago."

"Why?"

"Because in Health class, the teacher made us see what our BMI was."

I totally did not make that up as I went...

"Oh. Is it still there?"

"Probably. If it's not, Dad probably moved it."

"Okay, thank you."

"You're welcome."

When I heard her walk downstairs, I ran into my room and got the scale out from under my bed. I went to the bathroom and shoved it under some towels in the bathroom cabinet.

I got out of there and went back to my room, flopping down on the bed. I unplugged my phone from the charger cable and turned it on, scrolling through my notifications.

I heard my mom walk down the hallway and I saw her stop in my doorway.

I looked up at her. "Was it there?"

"Nope. Your dad must've moved it."

"Okay."

She walked away. I'm guessing she went back into the bathroom.

"Found it!" she yelled a couple minutes later.

"Great," I called out.

Jesus, that was close.

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Why is Hands Like Houses' music and lyrics so beautiful? I don't get it.