opia; matty healy.

24%

I'm so tired. Matty had thrown a punch at Alex and caused quite the damage. Alex had been attempting to get in contact with me all of Wednesday night, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd shown up at my door at some point and I hadn't heard him. It's been an exhausting day.

Coming home was strange because my parents were home. Both Mum and Dad were in the kitchen cooking, making me wonder whether this is what things will be like from now on, or whether it's a temporary medication of my mum's, settling in until the side effects hit.

It comes as a relief when Charlie texts me at the end of the day, five minutes before the bell signalling the end of the day rings. I'm quick to accept his request to come over, ready to forget about everything else for a while. Charlie seems like a good distraction, forgetting what had happened a few days prior and his sudden personality change. I come to the conclusion that everyone has bad days, and my feelings for Charlie are still very real.

No matter what, I can't shake this exhausted feeling, almost a feeling of fatigue. I try to join in on conversation with George throughout lunch as we re-tell stories of our worst school teachers – but after a few words, I'm staring out the cafeteria window wondering when the day will be over so that I can walk home and fall asleep.

The scent of winter approaching fills all of the air around me, allowing me to soak in a different atmosphere than I've ever experienced before. Considering Los Angeles had been on the warmer side of cool during its winters, Manchester is far more different than any West Coast cold. The trees have lost their leaves and all colour, similarly to LA at this time of year, but perhaps not as rapidly and drastically.

The walk to Charlie's is quiet. I force myself not to think about anything, ignoring a kind of sinking feeling in my stomach and another feeling of something going terribly wrong. I'm overthinking everything, the whiplash sending my emotions into a spiral of confusion that I'm unable to comprehend at any given moment.

Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I wait a few rings until I reach Matty's voicemail, "Hey Matty," I breathe, "do you wanna hang out tomorrow night? It's too cold to go out anywhere; maybe your mum will make an exception to let you come over for a little while. Please call me back – or answer the phone, you idiot. No one leaves voicemails anymore Matthew!"

It had been a spur of the moment phone call, derived from no particular thoughts – because I had forced myself not to think – but not thinking led me to Matty, for one reason or another. I had the sudden urge to see him, most likely because spending a day at school without him was incredibly unusual to my daily routine.

Alex hadn't showed either, although I'm not surprised. I hesitantly kept an eye out for him most of the day, hoping there'd be no confrontation moments while at the same time hoping he was okay from Matty's hit. If I could've stopped it, I would, because as much as Alex needs some sense knocked into him, I'd never physically allow that to happen to anyone if I had the choice.

Arriving at Charlie's leaves a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach as the feelings from the night before sink in, tied together with the notes I'd received being all too real. I'd seen my potential boyfriend material as a distraction from all that, but the walk here was far more calming than as I wait for him to open the door. I look to my right, then to my left, my cold hands tucked away in my pockets to warm them up.

Charlie's face appears in the doorway soon, peeking out before opening the door completely and grinning. He does something that surprises me; Charlie kisses me as if it's the most normal thing on the planet. I give in, enjoying it and letting myself. He smiles when we pull away quite soon, leading me inside and making conversation about my day.