Polar Opposites

Chapter 23

I stand in my living room with a box, patiently waiting for Louis to show up.

We haven't talked in over a week, other than last night, when I messaged him in regards to exchanging his stuff, with mine.

We've been best friend for 4 years. He's given me tons of his stuff, and I've given him tons of mine. I took some of his stuff without asking, as he did the same.

Packing the brown box brought back many memories, as I sobbed on my carpeted floor and ate an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's, the first thing I ate since the night before.

I look down, reminiscing on the things visible on top.

Our matching 'thing one, thing two' shirts he got us for Halloween freshman year.

His hardcover 'Hunger Games' book, something we quote and reference to quite often.

His blue ray copy disc of "The Fault in our Stars', our go to movie for cuddling, it never fails to leave us sobbing.

The list goes on. I want to cry, I want to scream, but I know he'll be here soon, and I need to act tough, like this friendship ending hasn't kept me up crying every night, that I haven't completely lost my appetite, and that my depression is completely under control. I'm acting as though in therapy because my mothers making me, not because I need it.

The pictures are all so old. I cringe at my eyes lined in black eye liner and Louis long, in-need-of-a-cut hair. Freshman year, the beginning of our friendship. Our baby faces are heartwarming, our smiles hold such excitement for the years to come.

I'm interrupted when the front door opens, revealing Niall first, then Lou. Niall whispers, and Lou nods, heading my way. Niall gives me a glare, as he runs up the stairs and leaves me alone with Louis.

His eyes are cold, and his hair is hidden under is dark green beanie. He stares at me, almost searching for any evidence of pain. I know he finds it from my bagged eyes, poor choice of clothing and gross hair. I find some in his cold, tired eyes, and impatient stance.

"Well here you go." He holds out his box, that is tapped shut. Its much larger than mine, and as we switch, I realize the weight is more than the one I hand him. I nod, looking his way as his mouth parts, seeing the memories and happiness of our faces. He stares for what seems hours, and I see his shoulders soften, his cheeks blush, and I almost see water build in his eyes. He looks up, his eyes soft but his mouth stern.

"I should go, your brother's waiting." I nod, as he turns.

"Oh, here." He takes the beanie from his head, his grip tight, as he reaches out to hand me the fabric.

I shake my head, and he just looks at me with confused eyes.

"Its yours." He nods, glancing at me as he walks up my stairs, leaving me on my couch with a box full of our past.

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It's been 15 days.

15 days since I've seen Lou, 15 days since I've talked to my best friend.

15 days since I've done anything other than go to school, work, and sit in my room.

I sit in the hard, spinning seat, waiting for The shrink to come in every Monday.

I continued to skip therapy, resulting in my mother shutting my phone off and me being forced to go, with my mother.

I haven't done much speaking. I have barely listened.

'Are you eating?'

'Nicole, you've obviously lost weight'

''I'm here for you, everything is confidential'

Harry has asked what's wrong, but I ignore his question each time. I haven't kissed him, I haven't touched him, I've barely looked at him.

I can't stop thinking about what Louis said. The shock on Niall's face. Did he say anything to Harry?

Of course not, because then he would have to explain Louis.

My heart aches, I can't stop crying, and I've never felt so alone in my life.

I miss my best friend. I see his converse by the kitchen door, and it pains me he's at my house for my brother, instead of me.

It's April, and April fools only brought me to miss his corny jokes and his ridiculous laugh.

I miss our ice cream runs, studying together, and telling him in detail of me and Harry's encounters.

I'm alone. The hollow space in my chest continues to grow, my will to try disintegrates, and my dedication to helping Harry lessens, as his presence only reminds me of the harsh words Lou had said.

I keep my grades up, the only thing I hold on to. I repeatedly am asked by teachers if I'm okay, and I play it off well.

My clothes become baggie, my hair falls limp, and my nails become brittle. My care to try is close to none.

I look up at Harry, snapping myself out of my trance as he reads his book, tapping his pencil to the beat of the music blaring in his headphone.

I smile, admiring his beauty and the way his tongue peaks through his lips. He looks up at me, pulling out an earbud. His eyebrow raises, questioning my starring.

"Do you have any pot?"